The Accidental Courtesan by Cheryl Ann Smith

distance to the stable to retrieve his horse. The evening was quiet but for the sounds of revelry from a tavern one street over and a few crickets in song. The area was what one could call seedy, and not the type of neighborhood for Noelle to visit unchaperoned and without an armed escort. But as it seemed to be her wont to stumble into mischief, she hadn’t allowed something such as traveling to a dangerous part of London to deter her from seeking him out.
    Noelle. His extremities tightened with the image of her smoky eyes and delightful mouth. She was certainly an unusual mixture of prickly quills and the softest silk. One had to traverse the barbs to get to the latter, but it was well worth the effort for a chance to taste her mouth.
    So caught up was he in his musings about what she would look like sans clothing, he failed to hear running footfalls behind him until a footpad was upon him.
    Gavin spun about just in time to take a cudgel to his left brow. Thankfully the blow was ill-aimed and glanced off his head. He dropped back and managed to keep his footing. He faced his attacker and quickly realized the blow had been meant not to kill but to weaken his defenses. The giant of a man could have killed him quite easily.
    A second man rushed from the darkness, and then another. There was a time in his youth when the odds would have been against the men, but age had certainly slowed him down, and his fighting skills had grown rusty.
    He had no time to clear his head and come up with a plan to outwit the footpads when he caught a fist to the chin. Fireflies danced in his eyes. The man landing the blow was huge in both height and proportions. He didn’t wait before taking Gavin to his knees with a ham-sized fist to the side of his face.
    Gavin briefly considered staying down and letting them have his purse. Unfortunately, his pride wouldn’t allow such a thing.
    Wobbling back to his feet, he felt one of the men catch his arms behind him, and the stranger with the cudgel circled around to bend and look into his face. The sour smell of an unwashed body drew Gavin upright, past the pain to his face. He met the man’s eyes with defiance. Any sign of weakness would please the trio, and he had no intention of adding to their fun.
    â€œWhere’s the necklace?” the cudgel wielder asked, his breath a foul mix of rotten teeth and ale.
    â€œNecklace?” Through the tufts of linen currently occupying his muddled brain, he realized quite quickly these were no common footpads, trolling for any hapless victim who had the misfortune to cross their path. They clearly thought he possessed a treasure they wanted back. “I have no necklace.”
    Ham-Fist cuffed him again, and it was the hands on Gavin’s arms that kept Gavin upright. Cudgel-Wielder chuckled. The two resembled each other enough to be kin.
    â€œThe necklace with the purdy blue stones.” Cudgel-Wielder tipped his head and stared. At least Gavin assumed he was staring. It was difficult to see anything in the darkness and through one good eye. The other was already swollen shut. By morning, the eye would be of little use. “Ye have it, and we want it.”
    Gavin opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. Could these dimwits be speaking about the necklace Charles had discovered the morning after Noelle’s visit? The item was a sapphire and diamond confection. The question remaining was how they could know about that particular necklace. It had spent most of its existence in Bath, decorating the neck of the lovely and sharp-tongued Lady Hortense.
    His cousin had brought the item to London to repair its unusual clasp, but Gavin was certain Charles had it tucked away for safekeeping. There was no possible chance the trio had seen it in any public setting.
    â€œPerhaps you gents should give me further details.” He peered up at Ham-Fist and relaxed his body in a sign he was cooperating. “I cannot recall the item of