THE VIRGIN COURTESAN by Michelle Kelly Page B

chair up under the handle. To prevent her rescue? With a rush of terror she contemplated the idea that the thief had mistaken her for a fine ton lady and intended to hold her to ransom. If that was the case, what would he do when he discovered that wasn’t an option?
    Shaking, Juliana lowered herself quietly before he turned and saw her awake. She must gather her wits. Although she was in her underwear, she appeared untouched, so he had not tried to ravish her at least. Struggling to piece together her recollections, Juliana had to wonder why on earth a highwayman would hold up the stage and abduct the traveller. She had never heard of such a thing. Had he struck her, rendered her unconscious and carried her back here? Wherever here was.
    No. Juliana remembered with a stab of disgust that she had fainted. Swooned, like any jingle-brained young lady with less sense than she had been born with. Right into the arms of a dangerous criminal, no less. Which only deepened the puzzle; why had he brought her here? If he had been intent on ravishment she doubted he would go to the trouble of bringing her to a room. It looked to be an inn rather than anybody’s home. He must have simply seen an opportunity, once she had rendered herself helpless, to kidnap and ransom a woman he assumed to be a connected lady. Surely he would have recognised her status by her attire, but then Juliana had to concede that there were many fashionable young women who attended the theatre in dress that would rival any courtesan’s, swapping their thin chemisettes for a bare décolleté. The lining of the pelisse Rose had loaned her was very fine, as was the lace on her dress and her gloves. It might have been an easy mistake to make, particularly in the dark.
    Juliana closed her eyes and lay still as she heard him approach the bed. As the scoundrel leaned over her, she fought not to whimper with fear and betray herself. She tensed, swearing she would claw his eyes out if he made any attempt to touch her. In spite of her fear, however, she could not help but be acutely aware of the nearness of him and the very smell of him. Clean and crisp, but unmistakably male. She heard him straighten and couldn’t prevent herself breathing out in a sharp sigh of relief.
    ‘You are awake, madam.’ A statement, not a question. Juliana opened her eyes, glaring at him to try to conceal her fear.
    He still wore his mask, though he had taken off his hat and cape, and once again she couldn’t fail to notice how handsome he was, with dark hair and full lips at odds with his strong jaw. He had a fine, manly figure, too, with those broad shoulders and long thighs. Juliana swallowed, struggling to compose herself and rid her mind of such nonsense. She must have hit her head when she swooned, she reasoned.
    The man smiled at her and stepped back. ‘Would you care for some food?’
    Juliana stared. Sitting up, pulling the covers over her chest, she demanded in what she hoped were imperious tones, ‘Why have you brought me here? Where is the coach driver?’
    He looked almost amused at her tone. ‘It was not my intention to scare you. When you fainted I lifted you out of the coach, hoping the fresh air would wake you. The coachman drove off—there are many cowards abroad this night—and when I couldn’t rouse you, I could hardly leave you out there.’
    ‘And my clothes?’
    He nodded towards the fire. Sure enough her cloak, gown and corset had been carefully laid out to dry, and her gloves lay on the chair, neatly folded with her fan on top. There was no sign of her purse, however. But he had taken some care of her. She tried to push away the thought of him undressing her with those strong hands while she lay helpless in his arms. Could he truly be after a ransom? How long before he realised there was no one to ransom her to? Her mind whirled with dreadful possibilities.
    The highwayman went to the fire again, glancing back at her. ‘Would you care for a small gin? It