by Maddy Barone
Husband? Rose swallowed her wine too quickly and fought not to cough. The girl looked like she was fifteen. The man had to be fifty years older. “It’s a beautiful picture.”
“My daughter was a beautiful girl.” The cool voice held a shadow of bitterness. “She died in childbirth less than a year after the wedding.”
Rose’s gaze shot back to the portrait. “How terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” Mayor McGrath was formal, standing as stiff as a fencepost. “It was nearly twenty years ago.”
The bitterness grew on Mrs. McGrath’s face. “Sixteen. A mother never stops grieving for the loss of a child.”
Rose shifted her weight and scanned the room for a change of topic. A row of faded photographs lined the wall behind the mayor’s wife. They showed a boy grow from a curly headed toddler to a lanky teenager. “And is that one of your children in those pictures?”
The mayor topped off his glass, frowning over the simple task. “Our son, Ryan. He’s gone too.”
Great. Rose couldn’t look at the McGraths. She focused on her wine and almost cheered the appearance of the butler when he stepped just inside the door and announced, “Dinner is served, madam.”
“Wonderful. I have worked up quite an appetite.” McGrath handed his wife his wineglass and she held his and hers while he positioned himself behind her chair. “Follow us, please,” he said, casting Rose a too-warm smile that would have earned snarls from Stone.
Sky extended his hand in a gesture for Rose to follow them. She walked behind the McGraths through the parlor. The furniture with its gold velvet upholstery was placed strategically to allow Mrs. McGrath’s wheelchair a clear path to the door. They passed along a short corridor to the dining room, which featured a glossily polished cherry wood table that could comfortably seat twenty. It was set with fine china and crystal, and the silverware gleamed. She wondered if this was where the McGraths usually ate their quiet family suppers.
McGrath positioned his wife on the right side of the table where an open space allowed her to sit in her wheeled chair while she dined. He stood at its head and waited for Sky to seat Rose to his left before sitting down himself. The west-facing windows poured golden light from the setting sun into the room. It would have been beautiful except the glare hit Rose square in the face and she had to squint to see anything. The Mayor gestured to the butler.
“Davidson, close the blinds and put on the lights.”
The light, to Rose’s amazement, came from an electric chandelier above the table. She stared up at it with her mouth hanging open. Electric lights? She hadn’t seen light appear at the flip of a switch in eight years.
“You look amazed, Mrs. Wolfe,” the mayor said.
“I am amazed,” Rose said almost reverently. “You have electric lights. And a car.” And hand-painted portraits and multiple photographs. She didn’t want to mention those and remind the McGraths of their grief, but both were expensive luxury items. Clearly the mayor of Omaha liked the finer things in life.
The mayor leaned back in his chair so Davidson could serve cream of potato soup in beautiful bowls that would have been antiques in 1998, when Rose had been born. The smug, self-satisfied smirk on McGrath’s face screamed his impression that Rose was a hick from the country.
“Just a few of the perks of living in Omaha. You’ll need to visit our museum. It has a marvelous display showing how Omaha has grown since the Terrible Times. It’s probably immodest of me to point out just how much of our advancement is due to my leadership. The last mayor, Mike Belsly, did a lot for Omaha, but I was the one to find the money we needed to maintain order. I established the Omaha City Guard. Now Omaha has an extremely low crime rate.”
Rose touched the whistle that hung from her neck and listened politely while he spent the next ten minutes describing the glories of Omaha and why he deserved the credit for each one. He finally came to a halt when the butler entered to remove the soup bowls.
“Fascinating,” she said earnestly. “Does everyone have electricity?” She looked at Sky beside her. “Do you have electricity?”
“Yes, my house has electricity.” He buttered a slice of bread. “It’s available to most businesses and the wealthier neighborhoods of Omaha. We don’t use it all the time, though, because it’s expensive and I want to save money.”
The mayor waved his spoon at Sky. “True. Electricity costs money, and if we want to be able to provide electricity and other luxuries to Omaha, the Single Status Tariff and the Marriage Tax must remain high enough to generate the necessary income.”
Rose kept smiling, but inside she was frowning. What about the less wealthy neighborhoods? Do they get electricity? Aren’t they part of Omaha?
There was a lull in the conversation while the butler brought in plates of lobster and gingered carrots. Rose was amazed again. Lobster and ginger weren’t local, so the cost of shipping them was exorbitant. Without refrigeration food would spoil, so the lobster must be brought to Omaha live. She imagined huge fish tanks where delicacies swam until they were needed for dinner. If this was McGrath’s idea of a quiet family meal, she wondered what his formal dinners were like. She also wondered how much of the income from the taxes on women went to pay for his quiet family dinners.
“The Single Status Tariff and the Marriage Tax are the backbone of our economy,” the mayor proclaimed. He sounded like a lawyer making closing arguments. She knew what that sounded like because her mom used to practice in their living room. “Without that source of revenue, Omaha couldn’t afford to pay the City Guard, and without the Guard, law and order would fail.”
Beside her, Sky ate lobster with relaxed movements, but Rose had been around wolves long enough to know he was covering acute tension, and she was sure she knew why. Since McGrath already thought she was a moron, she put an expression of wide-eyed innocence on her face and leaned toward him.
“Wasn’t there going to be some sort of vote on that? The taxes, I mean?” She tilted her head to the side to look at Sky. “Didn’t you say something about that, dear?”
The mayor answered before Sky could. “Absolutely right, Mrs. Wolfe. Sky, you’ll be glad to know the vote hasn’t been taken yet. It’s been postponed until next Monday.”
Sky gave no sign at all that he was relieved, but Rose was sure he must be. “I am glad to hear it,” he said with what Rose called his smarmy smile. “I agree, Tim. Without the revenue the Women’s Acts have brought in, Omaha wouldn’t be what it is today.”
He sounded so reasonable, so respectful, that Rose almost missed the hidden meaning in his words. If women hadn’t been forced into prostitution, Omaha would be a different, and better, place today. That’s what Sky really meant. He turned to her with an earnest expression. “You see, my dear, just as the city was sliding into chaos, Tim found a way to save it. He considered what resources Omaha had, and found the one which no one had considered tapping into, and one which any man would be willing to pay for.”
She was utterly incapable of mimicking his respect. “Sex?” she guessed, hands clenched under the table.
“Exactly. I understand there was some resistance at first, but Tim knew how to quell that. The City Guard was new at that time, but they received the bulk of their pay in services. At least, at first. Later, when the city had more funds at their disposal, regular wages were paid to the Guard.”
Rose could imagine the men of the Guard dragging girls from their homes and raping them in the houses the city forced them to work in. In her world of 2014 something like that would never happen. Except…Well, maybe in some countries where women didn’t have rights. Sky’s fingers brushed her fist under the table. She couldn’t look at him or she’d slap that smirk off his face, fake or not.
Sky turned toward McGrath. “But now that order is established and the city treasury is full, revenue can be generated in other ways. When I was in Kearney I had the chance to see how the Eatery works. Men come from all over to be served by waitresses, and they pay we
ll for the privilege.”
“Yes, yes.” McGrath waved that away and waited for Davidson to serve dessert before continuing. “But no man will pay as well for a dinner as he will for a woman’s puss…” He trailed off, glancing at Rose. “A woman’s company in bed.”
The apple crisp was still warm, and Rose would have enjoyed it a lot more in other company, discussing a different topic. She forced a forkful into her mouth.
“A man will pay what he believes the product is worth,” Sky argued. “Six years ago, an hour with one of Ms. Mary’s girls cost a twenty bit, just one twentieth of a strip of gold. Today, an hour with Cayla or Tasha costs one gold. If a man has only a twenty bit or a ten bit, he can either enjoy an hour of conversation and dancing with one of my other ladies, or he can go to an inferior girl at another house.”
“Well, I’ve never argued with your business sense,” the mayor conceded. He waved his fork at Rose. The man liked to use utensils to make his point. “When your husband told me he didn’t expect any woman in his house to give more than she was willing to, I saw red. Thought he was going to ruin everything I worked so hard to build. I don’t know how he did it, but his house brings in more and better paying business than any other whorehouse in Omaha.”
Sky ate a bite of crisp. “It’s no mystery. A worker who is happy in their job, whether it’s digging ditches or pleasuring men, will do their work better and give more satisfaction to the one paying their wages than someone who is unhappy. While I was working for Ms. Mary I learned that most men don’t get much pleasure from a frightened woman. But an hour with a woman who knows her business, and enjoys it, is worth a lot more than the other kind.”
Rose suppressed a shudder.
McGrath snorted loudly. “Some men do enjoy that.”
Had Rose not been looking at Sky she would have missed the tiny bit of tension in the set of his mouth. “Some do. They can pay for one of my ladies to act that way for him, or he can go to another house and find the real thing.”
McGrath laughed. “And some of the women in your house don’t even spread their legs for a man, but they earn as much as one of the whores down at Gabe’s does just by talking to him.”
“That’s right.” Dessert finished, Sky pushed back from the table. “As I said earlier, men will pay a twenty bit just to have a pretty girl’s attention for an hour. And he’ll buy them both a drink while he does it. The lady is happy because she’s not being forced to do something she hates, the man is happy because he spent an hour with a lady who knows how to make him feel big, and Omaha is happy, because the taxes are paid.”
“Hard to argue with that.” The mayor pushed back also and smiled at his wife. “You don’t mind, my dear, if we stay at the table instead of going to the parlor for coffee? I think the Wolfes are good enough friends that we can skip all the demands of formal etiquette?”
“Not at all,” the older woman murmured mechanically, lifting her glass for another refill.
“Splendid,” McGrath said. “Sky, did you know that while you were gone, Judge Case and his wife had twins? Another boy to add to his previous two, and a daughter. Another female added to the roster.”
“I’m happy for him,” Sky said in a tone that was more polite than interested.
“And the new school was finished just in time for the fall session to begin.”
While the men spoke of Omaha happenings, Rose managed to put away the last of her anger. She couldn’t believe Sky admired the mayor or the way he made abusing women legal, but his act was convincing. On the train he’d told her she wouldn’t always like the way he behaved in Omaha. It looked like he was right. And he was right about McGrath’s evil nature, too.
Mrs. McGrath had been watching her. The older woman’s eyes were a bit hazy with drink, but they seemed warmer now. “I hope you’ll come visit me again, Mrs. Wolfe.”
“I would like that,” Rose lied.
The mayor smiled at his wife. Rose thought it was the same sort of indulgent smile he would give a pet dog whose antics were entertaining. “Helen doesn’t go out, but you are always a welcome visitor, Mrs. Wolfe. Sky, your wife looks tired. I suppose being on the move all day has exhausted her. And being newlyweds, I don’t expect you’ve let her get much sleep lately.” His chuckle may have been meant to be friendly, but Rose froze at the lewdness hidden in it before the heat of a blush washed up her cheeks. “Davidson, have the car brought around.”
Sky stood. “Thank you so much for having us for supper. It was delightful.”
“Yes,” Rose agreed in a murmur. “Thank you for a nice evening.”
As they went past their hostess, Mrs. McGrath reached out to catch her hand. “Please do come, Mrs. Wolfe. It would be so nice to get to know you better.”
Rose held the fragile hand. From this angle she could just barely see the last portrait of the McGrath’s son. The expression on his mother’s face meshed with a memory and something clicked in Rose’s head. “What was your son’s name?”
The gaunt face showed brief surprise. “Ryan. Ryan Thomas McGrath.”
Rye Thomas. Rose’s breath left her in a rush. She opened her mouth to say something, but changed it. “I’m very sorry that I brought back bad memories earlier.”
Mrs. McGrath pressed her fingers. “Not at all. Some memories can hurt, but others bring joy. Do come again soon.”
“Thank you, I will.”
She could hardly stand to wait until she climbed into the backseat of the car next to Sky to tell him her discovery. But as soon as she opened her mouth to ask him if the McGraths’ son was really dead, he closed his over it. Any thought of the Rye Thomas Trading Company flew out of her head. This wasn’t a quick peck. It was a hot, overwhelming onslaught of tongue that froze her in place. She flashed back to the hallway of the den, eight years ago, when he’d pinned her against the wall and kissed her with unschooled savagery. A tiny pang of fear was squashed by trembling, uncertain passion. And just as she began to relax into the kiss, he lifted his lips and replaced them by his fingers.
“Hush, princess.” A flick of his lashes reminded her of the driver in the front seat. “We’ll be home soon. Then we can finish this.”
Chapter 9
Finish this. Her blood ran fast and hot through Rose’s veins. Finish the conversation, or the kiss? Much more kissing like that and she might forget their marriage was only pretend. Having sex with Sky would make it real. She inched away from him. As curious as she was about sex and as handsome as she found Sky, she was not ready to commit herself yet. She still wasn’t sure she even liked him.
She concentrated on looking out into the dark streets and inhaling the odd aroma of French fries. In a dim corner of her mind, she remembered something about cars running on strained fryer oil. Sky took her hand and held it for the fifteen minutes it took to drive to a wrought iron gate set in a stone wall. It was strangely arousing to feel the warmth of his fingers around hers, and it was a real effort to keep her breathing slow and calm.
The man beside the driver in the front seat hopped out and opened the door. Sky stepped down and kept hold of her hand to help her out. “Thanks, Barnes,” he said.
“Good night, Mr. Wolfe. Ma’am.”
The gate squeaked as it opened. Stone stood there, glowering. “I’m glad you’re back, Rose. Your cat has torn up two sets of curtains, smashed a dozen wine glasses, clawed three guests, and eaten half the snacks Mrs. Nord made for the guests.”
Her attraction to Sky was forgotten. “Oh, no. Poor Mitzi. She must be terrified.”
“Poor Mitzi?” Sky echoed, with a note of disbelief rising in his voice. “You’re worried about the damn cat, when she’s wrecked my house?”
“Yes. She’s afraid of being in a strange place without me.”
“I told you to leave her at the den,” Sky ground out.
Rose stuck her chin out. “I told you if she didn’t come, I didn’t come.” She turned back to Stone. “Where is she now?”
“In the laund
ry room. We caught her and locked her down there.”
Sky bunched his fists. “Why wasn’t she put there to begin with?”
“Well, we tried. That’s where Paint was taking her when he found two men getting ready to rape one of the maids.”
The temper on Sky’s face faded, replaced by something cold and still and infinitely more dangerous. “What. Happened?” Each word was distinctly separate.
“Well, when Paint grabbed them and took them upstairs, there was a bit of a tussle and that’s when Mitzi got loose.”
Sky strode through the gate, pulling Rose along with him by her wrist. “Close the gate. I don’t give a flying fuck about the cat. Where are the rapists?”
“Paint took ’em to the Guards.”
Rose watched Sky visibly wrestle with his anger. “Which maid? Is she okay?”
“It was Miss Katelyn.” Stone shook his head sympathetically. “Scared her bad. Once Paint took the men away I went looking for her with Mrs. Nord. When she saw me, she wanted to run. I stepped back so I wouldn’t scare her so bad and Mrs. Nord got her to come up. She made her drink something and then put her to bed out in the dormitory you have in back. I guess she’s sleeping now.”
Sky nodded. “How did they get in? Were they regular guests?”
“Nope. Turns out there’s a secret tunnel. It goes from a little door in a closet in the basement to a stand of trees in the park behind your house.” Stone gave his cousin a consoling pat on the shoulder. “Joe said it must have been built in the Terrible Times, like an escape route for whoever lived here then. You didn’t know about it.”
His tone didn’t make it a question, but Sky answered as if it were. “No. What happened to the door?”
“Looks like it got so rusted it broke. We closed it up again, but you can take a look in the morning. It will need repairs.”
“God.” Sky groaned, rubbing his free hand through his hair. “I don’t have enough men to patrol the grounds and guard the women.”
“You do now.” Stone grinned. “The six of us.”