The Rake's Proposition

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The Rake's Proposition Page 19

by Bess Greenfield


  At last, Claudine had confirmation of her belief, but her apprehension remained. “You would think Mr. Fowler would forbid the performance of those songs in his theater. They must remind him of his wife’s infidelity night after night.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt, but nothing rates higher than making a profit in his book. Those songs have been an enormous boon for his business. He’d only be spiting himself to toss them out. Your cousin was a very talented man. What a waste!”

  “Why must you speak as though there’s no hope?”

  Mrs. Feldt gave her a sad, skeptical look. “No one has heard a word from either of them in how many months?”

  “But he told me he’d be lenient toward my cousin if I made a deal with him.”

  She glanced at the doorway again and whispered, “Don’t believe a word he says. If he’d killed them both, do you think he would have told you or anyone?”

  Claudine’s chest constricted as she considered this scenario. No. She could not accept that. “He’s alive. I know it.”

  Mrs. Feldt pressed her thin lips together. “Anything’s possible, dear.” Then her face went blank as she noticed something in the hallway. Instantly, she began sewing up the opened seams of the swimming costume. “Good evening, sir,” she called as the man they’d been discussing sauntered forward with his hands in his waistcoat pockets.

  He looked almost civilized in dark formal attire, but he was dressed far too formally for The Crystal. “Evening, Hannah.”

  He surveyed the long worktable as though he’d misplaced something. Then he ambled to the costume racks behind Claudine. The sudden weight of his big hands upon her shoulders made her jump. “You handled that heckler well tonight, and I can tell you’re enjoying yourself up there. I think you’re a natural at this.”

  The contact and the friendliness of his tone stunned her. She tried to conceal her revulsion as she turned to face him, stepping away as she did.

  “Would you mind leaving us for a while, Hannah?” he asked, never taking his eyes from Claudine.

  “Not at all, sir.” Her ankle boots clicked across the linoleum as she rushed from the room.

  Mr. Fowler leaned his hip against the worktable, a few feet away from Claudine. Why was he staring at her so intently? The longer he hesitated to speak, the more she dreaded hearing what he had to say. “That’s quite a suit,” she said lightly. “You look as though you’ve just been to dinner with the mayor.”

  He shoved a rolled-up bolt of red satin and watched it unwind along the table. “Would that impress you?”

  Claudine caught the fabric before it fell on the floor and looked up at his swarthy face with a neutral expression. “I don’t care whom you dine with, sir. It seems to me if you cared half so much about your wife as you claim to, you’d spend your evenings trying to find her and win her back.”

  “When did I ever claim to care for my wife? I have no use for that deceitful whore… My interest has gone elsewhere,” he murmured in an intimate tone that made her shiver.

  “If you no longer want your wife, why do you carry on this vendetta against my cousin?”

  He smiled at her like she was a simple child. “Because he took what was mine, and I must have justice.”

  “What about our deal? You’ve profited enormously from my act. From what I’ve heard, far above what you’re paying me. Won’t that suffice as recompense?”

  He tilted his head in contemplation, rubbing his middle finger over the scar on the right side of his face. “Oh, yes, our deal. I’ve reconsidered. It seems to me the sacrifice is all on my side. My friends think I’m weak because I allow him to live. They mock me, but I’ve kept my word to you so far.”

  Something had changed since they’d last spoken. Her throat was so dry she could barely utter the question. “Do you know where he is?”

  He flashed a predatory smile as he inched forward and brushed his calloused thumb across her cheek. “And what have you really done for me that a hundred other pretty girls couldn’t do? But I’ll tell you what might make a difference…”

  “There you are!” Minnie called from the entrance. “I’ve been looking everywhere. You have two minutes.”

  Mr. Fowler shot a furious look at the now terrified girl, then turned back to face Claudine with utter composure. “Another time.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The day after Claudine ran away from him, Leo decided to buy her an engagement ring as an act of affirmation. She loved him. She would come back to him eventually, and when she did, he intended to be well prepared.

  His second proposal would succeed where his first had failed. He would say whatever he needed to say to convince her to accept him, and she would make the logical choice. Marriage would solve everything, and they belonged together. She had to see that.

  He chose a 17-carat emerald cut diamond in a platinum setting and imagined placing it on her finger. The adoration and trust he’d once seen in her devastating eyes would be there again as she looked up at him to say her vows…

  When she did not return after two days, he hired a private detective.

  When the detective still had no leads after two weeks, he could no longer stand the sight of the ring, a constant reminder of his stupidity. She hadn’t come back because she didn’t love him any more, and he had no one to blame but himself.

  Late on a Saturday afternoon, he set out to return the cursed ring to the jewelry store on the west side of Madison Square Park. Traffic was thick along Fifth Avenue so he advised his driver to take an alternate route. A series of turns took them through the sleazy Tenderloin District. As most of the commerce in that neighborhood occurred after dark, the streets tended to be quiet during the day. The saloons, vaudeville houses, and dance halls looked deserted.

  Leo noted without surprise that The Crystal Music Hall, seedier than ever, was still in business. There would always be a market for lowbrow entertainment, and Jonas Fowler was just the man to deliver it. With idle curiosity, he observed the glass encased poster to the right of the front doors. His eyes locked upon the name spelled out in bright red capital letters. MADELEINE VALE. A knot formed in his stomach. “Stop here!”

  As soon as his driver reined in the horses, Leo jumped down to the sidewalk and studied the poster at close range. The words Gorgeous, Talented, and French jumped out at him. He felt as though he’d been punched in his gut without warning.

  It had to be Claudine. While he’d been agonizing over her, she’d been here, at one of the bawdiest music halls in the city, working for his former business partner, the detestable Jonas Fowler.

  They’d lasted a little less than a year as partners. Fowler not only skimmed off the top, but he also had a nasty habit of harassing the young women who worked for them. The final row erupted when Fowler insisted they expand their enterprise to include the sex trade.

  In the end, Fowler had done exactly as he wished. Everyone knew The Crystal offered more personal services in several of the upstairs rooms. For that reason, the theater attracted the lowest type of audience.

  The thought of Claudine flaunting herself for money before prospective johns made him ill. He didn’t think for a second she would sell herself, but she was connected with the trade all the same. She had to know what went on upstairs. How could she not? How could she have anything to do with that scum? If she’d taken this job as an act of revenge, she’d achieved it very well.

  The excuse of desperation occurred to him, but he knew she could have found a place in any number of far more reputable music halls. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. She was either impossibly naïve or she’d done this to spite him.

  The urge to go inside and confront her immediately brought him as far as the oak double doors, but he paused long enough to master his temper. Maybe her act wasn’t as risqué as he imagined. He went inside and bought a ticket. He’d see for himself rather than assume the worst.

  The floor was sticky with spilled beer and the remnants of food. Music halls were
not permitted to serve alcohol or food, but apparently, Fowler had found a way to circumvent that law.

  Leo sat down at one of the long dining tables facing the stage. A group of men in flashy attire a few places to his right were having the sort of bawdy conversation one might hear in a saloon. He supposed that was appropriate. The Crystal was nothing more than a saloon with a stage.

  The heat and sheer mediocrity of the first two acts added to his discomfort. The audience talked all through the third act, a man in a striped jacket and a boater singing about his tragic realization that the love of his life was the girl who’d married his best friend.

  The next performer’s name drew murmurs of excitement. Leo felt something very like seasickness as he watched Claudine come on stage. The bodice of her sparkly white shepherdess costume scooped so low her breasts practically overflowed. Her mouth and cheeks were artificially reddened like those of a common whore. Her gleaming chestnut hair was piled high in front. The remainder fell in artful curls over her pale shoulders and down her back.

  The lyrics she sang were innocent only on their surface. The audience got the double entendre they were meant to receive. The messenger was very good at her job. The men around him cheered and guffawed.

  But it was the expression on her face as she sang that transfixed him, and every other gentleman in the room. Here was a natural seductress, a woman who knew her power and reveled in the knowledge of it. There was no trace of the innocent, vulnerable girl he loved. This new version of Claudine drank up the spotlight as though it were necessary for her own survival. It was horrible to watch her pander herself to her vulgar audience, and still he couldn’t look away.

  * * *

  Clutching a basket of laundry on her hip, Minnie opened the dressing room door. The instant she did a male chorus of pleas erupted, all begging for the same thing: to meet Miss Vale.

  “Sorry. She’s indisposed at the moment.” After collecting the floral bouquets thrust at her, Minnie stepped back into the room and kicked the door shut with her foot. “The line seems to grow longer each night. Miss Larraby didn’t get half so many.” Her large brown eyes gleamed with excitement. “Some of them were very dapper.”

  “Thank you for sending them away. I’m not feeling up to meeting anyone.” Claudine rested her elbows on her dressing table and frowned at her dejected face in the mirror. Her high spirits seemed to have been wiped away along with her stage makeup.

  Her fans would only be disappointed to witness her like this. When she was on stage, she forgot who she was and the rules that had constrained her all her life. She became someone else, someone bold, glamorous, and self-assured. Madeleine Vale flirted, teased, and basked in the adoration she received in return.

  The sensation lasted no longer than the duration of her act. Afterward, Claudine quickly returned to being her usual self, clammy from stale excitement and dreadfully self-conscious about what she’d just done.

  Minnie helped her remove her risqué shepherdess outfit and don her cream silk dressing gown trimmed with ruffled lace. While she worked, the 17-year-old chatted about the young pharmacist who’d been courting her. Apparently, his mother didn’t think Minnie, an aspiring singer, was good enough for her son.

  “I don’t care if I ever see him again,” Minnie said, hanging the sparkly costume on the costume rack. “Why should I bother with people who would judge me ill for doing an honest day’s work?”

  Claudine wished she could be so indifferent to the opinions of others. She could think of a lot of people who would judge her harshly for the way she’d just behaved.

  Someone pounded on the door. Claudine put her finger against her lips to signal for quiet, but the knocking continued. Minnie marched up to the door and opened it only enough to address the rude visitor through the crack. “Miss Vale is not seeing any of her admirers tonight and, for your future reference, those without manners will never have an audience with her.”

  “Tell ‘Miss Vale’ that Mr. Barnett needs to speak with her most urgently.”

  Claudine’s heart plummeted at the sound of Leo’s voice. Not here. Not now. Had he seen her act? Her stomach felt as if she’d just swallowed acid.

  “I don’t care for your tone, whoever you are, so I don’t think I will,” Minnie replied.

  Claudine stood up, turning to face the entrance. “It’s alright, Minnie. I know him. You may let him in.”

  Minnie opened the door and allowed Leo to enter but eyed him from a short distance away like a temperamental guard dog.

  His expression was brooding. He’d seen the act then.

  “You can attend to the laundry now,” Claudine told Minnie. “And then go home. I don’t want you to have to stay any later than you already do.”

  Reluctantly, the dresser collected her basket of clothing and departed. Leo leaned against the door, resting his top hat against his thigh. His gray trousers and navy coat conformed precisely to the lines of his muscular body. He seemed much larger than she remembered. Solid. Safe. She had the strongest urge to forget everything he’d said and rush into his arms, but she conquered her weakness.

  His eyes darted from her décolletage to her bare feet and up to her face again. At first she thought she saw hunger in his gaze. Then she realized that was scorn. “Do you know how worried I’ve been?” he said tautly. “The horrors I imagined? You might have at least sent word that you were safe.”

  Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear blood pulsing in her ears. She gripped the edge of her dressing table for support. “I believe I absolved you of all responsibility for me at our last meeting.”

  He scowled at the sparkly, feathery costumes hanging on the rack by the wall. The sequins and spangles seemed to be winking. “I can understand why you couldn’t find the time.”

  His disdainful tone made her feel at once exposed and defensive, muddling her thoughts. “I’m sorry to have caused you distress, but I really don’t see how you have any cause for grievance. We hardly parted on the best of terms.”

  His stance turned rigid. “I was shocked. I needed time to figure out what to do.”

  “Now you don’t have that problem. I’ve simplified your life.” This wasn’t at all what she wished to say, but her pride had assumed control of her tongue.

  For some reason, her conclusion made him laugh. “Did you know Jonas Fowler used to be my business partner or is that just a coincidence?”

  The pulsing in her ears grew worse. “No, I didn’t know that. My working here has nothing to do with you. I came here looking for Alexandre and found out that he ran off with Mr. Fowler’s wife. I tried to tell you that day I went to your office, but you were so awful to me I never got the chance. So I realized it was up to me to save Alex.”

  By the skeptical expression on his face, she judged she’d left out some important details in her rushed recounting, but she couldn’t recall precisely what she’d said or in what order.

  He gave her a patronizing look. “It all makes sense now.”

  She took a deep breath and tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart. “I made a deal with him. He said he would be lenient toward Alex if I worked here.”

  His mouth twisted. “I see. He coerced you.”

  “He’s intent upon revenge. Why is that so difficult to believe?”

  “You didn’t seem like a woman under duress when you were on that stage. You were quite in your element in fact. I nearly didn’t recognize you.”

  The way he looked at her, as if he truly didn’t know her, cut her even more deeply than his words. “I find your tone and manner positively hateful.”

  “Well, I found your exhibitionist display positively nauseating.”

  “Exhibitionist?”

  “I know. It was all done on Alexandre’s behalf. So selfless you are, flaunting yourself to strange men, in order to help your cousin. Let’s pretend for a moment that everything Fowler has told you is true because he seems a trustworthy sort of person. Do you think Alex would thank you? Do yo
u think he would be proud of what you do here?”

  She imagined his reaction and knew he would be outraged. “It doesn’t matter. He’ll never learn of it.”

  “Are you certain? You’re the headline act, not exactly a well kept secret. Alex is a concert pianist. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a doggery like this. At least be honest about why you’re doing this. I saw the look on your face when those men shouted their praise. You like displaying yourself. You love to tease. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

  She slapped his cheek before she even realized what she was doing.

  His only reaction was a smirk and a slight raise of his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t know it was true,” he said calmly.

  “You wanted me to sing at one of your theaters. How is this any different?”

  “You did everything but strip naked for those men! I never would have asked that of you or any woman. Fowler probably doesn’t even know your cousin, but he’ll hold this absurd fiction over your head until you cease to be useful to him. He’s a greedy, conscienceless manipulator. That’s why I could no longer tolerate working with him. He will always ask just a little more of you, lift your skirts a bit higher or maybe meet with a nice gentleman he knows.”

  She knew he was right about Fowler. His threats and insinuations might be completely fabricated. She might never learn anything more about Alex by staying here, and she was beginning to feel cornered. There had to be another way.

  “Why so pale? Has he asked that of you already?” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. “We will never speak of this again.”

  Leo may have been partially right, but she’d never own to it now that he’d insulted her. She shook free of his grasp. “I’m not the gullible fool you make me out to be, and you obviously don’t know Alex as well as I do. You still think of me as a child, don’t you?”

 

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