Free Never Entice an Earl by Lily Dalton

ill-fitted great coat and top hat strutted to the center
     of the stage and bellowed, “Gentlemen, gentlemen. Do control yourselves!”
    Hands held high for quiet, he waited for the clamor to subside.
    “We have assembled here, for your personal erudition and viewing pleasure, four of
     the foremost actresses of Drury Lane presenting the finest in tableaux vivant .” He gestured toward the young women. “For your eyes only they will enact the most
     memorable scenes of the classics, the first being the story of Electra and the grievous
     murder of her father, the king Agamemnon.”
    Cormack chuckled. Actresses, indeed. Though he could not claim to be an expert on
     strumpets, these four were clearly of a higher quality than the others who crowded
     the room. Young and pretty, at least from this distance, they had bodies to match
     with high breasts, pinched waists, and flared hips. Having studied the classics, he
     could not discern what any of the poses had to do with Electra or Agamemnon, but he
     supposed that wasn’t the point.
    His attention lingered on one of the dancers in particular, one with starlight-blonde
     hair and luminous skin. Something about her commanded his attention. Perhaps it was
     the blue flash of temper in her eyes, or the quarrelsome set of her pretty mouth.
     He felt as if he’d caught sight of an angel masquerading amongst lesser mortals, who’d
     become entangled in mankind’s sin and was now helpless to escape.
    Apparently he wasn’t the only one who noticed her, for suddenly the young woman yelped
     and smacked the hand of the patron closest to her, a man who, after being so rebuffed,
     snatched his hand away from the girl’s well-turned ankle. The collective thunder of
     male laughter shook the floor beneath Cormack’s boots.
    Cormack did not laugh. Instead, he maneuvered closer to the stage, fixated. Inexplicably
     smitten. A bright flush moved up the girl’s throat, into her cheeks, to disappear
     beneath her mask. She resumed her pose, and yet…her hands trembled.
    He realized instantly that she didn’t belong in this place.
    With each step forward, a tangle of memories and regrets welled up inside him along
     with a sudden impulse to protect her, to make right whatever had gone wrong. Something
     he’d been helpless to do for Laura.
    So distracted was he by the girl that he almost… almost …missed the man ducking down the back corridor, dressed in the clothes of a gentleman,
     his top hat tilted so as to conceal his silk-obscured face.
    *  *  *
    Daphne glared at the filthy creature who had grabbed her leg, and resumed her pose.
     Was it only her imagination, or did her skin now itch where he had touched her? Ugh. A shiver of revulsion rippled through her.
    But being on the stage meant her time at the Blue Swan was almost done. In just a
     matter of moments, she’d be in the carriage on her way home.
    She kept telling herself that, but another, increasingly hysterical voice continued
     to break in, emphatically demanding: What have you done?
    It had been easy to imagine doing “the right thing,” but it was completely different
     now that she was here on the stage, surrounded by a hundred men with lust in their
     eyes. The peril of her situation closed in on her like a thick fog until she found
     it difficult to breathe.
    Stop it! It was too late for fear. Hysterics would only draw attention and increase her danger.
     She had to push through, not only for herself but for Kate. According to Mr. Bynum,
     that foul-mouthed bully of a stage master, they would perform their rotations on the
     stage ten times before taking their leave of the stage. Only then would Kate’s debt
     be satisfied, at least for the night. Given a day or two, Daphne was certain she could
     come up with some other solution for satisfying the remainder of the Fickett family’s
     debt.
    She simply had to be home tonight by the time Clarissa and her mother returned from
     the Heseldons’, else her