Free The Harlot Countess by Joanna Shupe Page A

night?” Mrs. Timmons nodded, so Simon said, “Tell the staff to give her some time to heal before putting her to work, then.”
    â€œI will, my lord.”
    â€œThank you, Mrs. Timmons. Show Hollister back, if you please.”
    She returned a few minutes later, a beefy, unremarkable man behind her. The man entered and gave a polite bow. “My lord. It is an honor.”
    Simon’s approach to finding Lemarc had many facets. Quint would study the bird paintings to narrow down a possible location, and Maggie could examine the works for any clues in the artist’s technique. But the most likely method to elicit results would come through an investigator.
    Hollister came highly recommended. He’d toiled for Bow Street for years, more recently taking on discreet work for members of Society. On looks alone, he seemed well suited for it; one could imagine the man blending in anywhere.
    â€œThank you for coming, Mr. Hollister. If you’ll have a seat.” He gestured to one of the chairs opposite the desk.
    Hollister, limping ever so slightly, came forward and lowered into a chair.
    â€œI’ll get to the point,” Simon started. “I need you to find someone. Have you heard of the artist Lemarc?”
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    Maggie arrived fashionably late.
    The stone monstrosity that passed for the Duke of Colton’s residence loomed like a setting in a gloomy Gothic novel. The lamps and torches blazed in the darkness to illuminate the pointed arches and flying buttresses. Good heavens, were those gargoyles? She often sketched buildings and churches, and her fingers itched for her charcoals as she waited on the stoop.
    Hard to believe she’d been invited tonight. It’d been quite some time since she’d been asked to a dinner party of this caliber. Of course, she had reached out to the Duchess of Colton first, to request an audience, when the duchess replied with a dinner invitation.
    One could only hope for an intimate gathering or, at the very least, that the guests had been warned of her attendance. Perhaps then the whispering and snickering would be kept to a minimum.
    The door swung open and she was shown in. At first glance, the inside of the structure was nothing like the outside. Warm and comfortable, the home had fresh flowers and plenty of bright candlelight. As Maggie climbed the stairs, she noted a Greuze painting on the wall. Impressive. The duke and his duchess had excellent taste.
    When she stepped into the salon, the first person her eyes found was Simon. He stood across the room, tall, lithe, and handsome. The shock of his appearance felt similar to a kick to the stomach, and she appreciated it about as much.
    Blast it all . She should have expected him to be in attendance, considering his relationship to the duke. If she’d known, however, she certainly would have refused the invitation. The memory of their last exchange still haunted her. Why did he, of all men, elicit such wanton, lustful feelings from her?
    A blond beauty in a pale pink gown rushed forward to clasp her hands, diverting her attention. “Lady Hawkins,” the duchess exclaimed. “I am indeed grateful you decided to attend our motley gathering.”
    â€œTruly, I am honored,” Maggie replied, with a genuine smile and a proper curtsy.
    â€œNone of that,” the duchess said. “We’re amongst friends. Well, mostly friends anyhow.”
    â€œLady Hawkins.” The Duke of Colton arrived at his wife’s side. A dark and handsome man, one could easily imagine how he’d earned his reputation as the Depraved Duke. “How lovely to see you. My wife has been speaking of you all week.”
    â€œGood evening, Your Grace. I am happy to be included.” Not to mention baffled.
    â€œCome along,” the duchess said, “and I’ll introduce you to tonight’s group.” Slipping her arm through Maggie’s, the duchess thankfully steered them in