A Very Ruby Christmas

by Lavinia Kent

  “I do know, but we both know it is not truly the answer. I must find my way on my own.”

  “As long as you know we are here and ready to help you find an answer to your troubles.”

  A light laugh rose to her lips. “The problem with lords is, they always believe that they can find an answer. We working women are far more practical.”

  His fingers bit into her arm gently. “I mean what I say, Ruby.”

  She looked back at him and met his gaze squarely. “I know you do, and I am grateful, Colton.” She shook his hand off. “But now I must go speak to Thorton before I lose all taste for it.” She gave the briefest of smiles and turned for the door—but then she stopped. “I have a little something extra for you for this evening. I’ll have Simms deliver it. You may think it silly, but it is the least I can do after all your help.”

  Chapter 2

  “I wish to speak with Madame Rouge. Now.” Lord Thorton’s voice filled the hall as she pushed open the door to the library.

  “Is there some difficulty?” she asked Simms quietly as she entered.

  The poor man raised his shoulders and then let them fall, his expression beleaguered. His eyes darted between her and Lord Thorton, and then, with the slightest headshake of apology, he fled the room.

  She turned to Thorton, chin high. “My lord, I am surprised to see you. I did not expect you to be out in such weather. Can I offer you a drink?” She nodded to the brandy decanter. “Or perhaps you wish me to have something hot summoned. Tea? Coffee? I do believe that Cook may even have some warm chocolate. It is a good night for it. And a bite to eat? You do have a fondness for my cherry tarts.” She let a hand drift down from her waist, skimming the lush curve of her hips.

  “Oh, do stop,” Lord Thorton said. “Your tricks do not work on me any longer. Cherry tarts, indeed.”

  Oh dear, he was determined to be a nuisance, and if any man could be a nuisance it was Thorton. She squared her shoulders.

  “I meant no trickery. I merely sensed your mood was not pleasant and sought to sweeten it. And I would ask that you treat my staff with more care. If you are angry at some fault, you know that you can always speak with me. I do believe I will have a cup of chocolate myself. Just looking at the blowing snow makes me cold.”

  Ignoring Thorton’s clear impatience, she walked back to the door and gave Simms her request. Then, without another glance at her unwelcome guest, she strolled to her chaise and reclined upon it, as was her habit. Her posture and expression gave no clue to the carefully banked ire within her.

  Thorton strode over and stared down at her, his figure stiff and unbending. If he was trying to intimidate her, he would have to work harder. She’d had it out with him months before and felt no need of a rematch.

  “What do you need my help with? Did one of the girls give you trouble? I do know you like everything just so.”

  His lips grew tight. “No. What I want is an answer to my offer. I’ve offered twice what this place is worth, and I know that nobody else will meet my price. I want an answer.”

  And there it was. She was selling Madame Rouge’s. She’d been dreading this moment for a week now. Thorton was correct; he had placed the highest offer. There had been a couple of others who expressed interest, but deep in her heart Ruby knew that the only gentlemen who had any possibility of matching Thorton’s price were either not truly serious or were only acting to help her. They might toy with the idea of purchasing Madame Rouge’s, might even purchase it temporarily, but no gentleman wanted to be known as the owner of a whorehouse.

  Except, evidently, Lord Thorton.

  “I am still thinking about it,” she said, turning to stare at the flickering flames on the hearth.

  “That is rubbish.”

  She forced her gaze back to his not-unattractive face. “Actually, it is not. I care about my girls and wish to be sure that they will be well cared for. That is more important to me than the money.”

  He let his eyes run over her in a way that made her want to recoil. “I don’t believe anything is more important to you than the money.”

  She had to fight back a laugh. For all the years he’d been coming here, for all the gentle conversations they’d had, he clearly didn’t know her at all. Before the incident in the spring, when he had suddenly threatened to ruin both her and her house, she had believed him almost a friend. And, yes, the money would be nice, very nice. She had needed to make a living after her father’s—what was the right word?—abandonment, but it had always been about so much more than the money.

  “Think what you will. I still want more time to make up my mind. Madame Rouge’s has been my life for more than a decade. It is not so easy to give away.”

  “I certainly do not think you are giving it away. My offer is far more than it is worth.”

  She doubted that. It might be a few years before Thorton would recoup his full investment, but it would not be decades. Madame Rouge’s had always done well and would continue to do so, as long as it was managed properly.

  “And why do you want my house, my lord? It does not seem like the proper choice for a gentleman, and I do know you like to be proper.”

  “It is not a matter of being proper but of doing what must be done.”

  “And you must have Madame Rouge’s?” It was hard to believe.

  He pulled himself even straighter. “I have come to believe that someone must be sure that order is restored here and that the rules are followed. Do not think I have missed how often you have allowed ladies of quality to sneak in through your doors. It is horrifying.”

  She actually thought it was rather wonderful. When she’d taken over from Madame Noir, she’d done it with the intention of helping women who were trapped beyond the edges of society, women who had no other place to turn, no one to help them. It had never occurred to her that women who society embraced might need her also, but time had proved differently. Now she had true friends, like Louisa and Angela. And Sarah and Bliss as well. Women from all realms of life needed the safety and comfort that Madame Rouge’s could offer.

  She dropped her eyes to her hands, considering with care what she would say. While she was not afraid of Lord Thorton, neither did she wish to anger him.

  “And that, sir, is why I do not understand why you would wish to own my house. If you find anything about it horrifying, then why would you buy it?”

  “So that I can fix it.” His feet shifted, the high polish of his evening slippers catching the dance of the fire.

  Closing her eyes, she prayed for calm. “And what if I don’t think it needs fixing? I have built it to be just what I wish.”

  “But now you are leaving.”

  Her gut clenched. That was the problem. She did need to leave, want to leave, but how could she abandon all she had worked so hard to build? “That does not mean I wish to see it changed.”

  “Change is inevitable.” He turned and strode from her, so that now it was he who stared into the fire.

  It was true—change was inevitable—but Ruby was quite certain that the change Lord Thorton had in mind was not of a type she would find agreeable. “Still, I care enough to be sure that the next owner continues to look after my girls.”

  “And I will do that. I simply wish to be sure that they understand how things must be done.”

  She resisted the urge to let out a long sigh. “I believe we had this conversation months ago. I am quite content with the manner in which my girls follow the rules I set.”

  He cleared his throat. “And as you know, I am not. If you set a rule you must enforce it.”

  She let her eyes rise to his face. His color was high, almost florid. He was working hard to control his temper; it was time to calm things down.

  “My dear Lord Thorton, you must give me more time. I am sure that there is much truth to what you say, but I am undecided. And I did speak the truth that money is not the only factor. I want to know that my house will continue in the fashion that I desire.” That was concili
atory.

  “And do you not trust me?”

  How did she answer that? Once, she would have trusted him, but something had changed in him in the last year.

  “It is more complicated than that. I simply wish the best for my girls and want the time to be sure I am doing the correct thing. As I’ve said, I am undecided.”

  “Well, you are a woman,” he said, as if that answered anything. And then, as if he could not resist, “And as your sea captain has not returned, perhaps you are a little nervous that you will be remaining here?”

  How did Thorton know that? “My plans are my own. Forgive me if I do not choose to share.”

  “I do understand that you might not wish to share your disappointment.”

  Deep breath. Deep breath. “I have nothing to be disappointed in.”

  “Really. I heard that the Dawn’s Light docked yesterday and that—”

  Before Ruby could answer or even think about what Thorton was saying, there was a loud pounding on the door. What now?

  Without waiting for her reply, Simms burst in. “I am sorry, Madame, but you are needed. There is a—a problem in the kitchens—a problem I fear only you can manage.”

  “Not now, you stupid cur,” Thorton turned his head and snapped, his demeanor changing in an instant.

  Ruby came to her feet. Some things she would not allow, and abusing her staff was at the top of that list. Stepping past Thorton without even a glance, she hurried to Simms. If she said anything, there would be an argument, and something in Simms’s tone told her there was no time for such foolishness. She looked back only for the briefest moment.

  “I believe you know your way out, my lord.” She let her true feelings show in her tone. “I will let you know when I have reached a decision.”

  Not waiting for an answer or even to see the expression on Thorton’s face, she followed Simms out, her fingers clenched tight into fists. What could have caused Simms to sound that frantic?

  She pulled in a deep breath as the door closed behind them. She held up a hand, stopping Simms from speaking. “I know it is important. You would not have interrupted me if it was not, but first I must not forget my commitments. I will head to the kitchens, but I need you to take care of things for Lord Colton before you join me there.” She could see that Simms was unhappy with her words, but he nodded and she continued, “Good; you will find him still in the parlor where I left him. Do anything he requests. I would put him in the end room of the green hall, unless that is unsuitable for his needs. And I would also like you to…” She hurried on with her directions, dreading what might await her in the kitchen—and yet impatient to know what caused Simms such worry.

  —

  Ruby moved quickly down the hall, heading to the narrow servants’ corridor that led to the rear of the house. What could be so important back here? Had Simms simply been helping her get away from Lord Thorton? No, he had looked truly worried. Trouble never came from the servants’ area. Could somebody be injured? A serious burn? Or a fall? Had some lord mistaken one of the maids for one of her girls and…? She sped through the kitchen and then, seeing no one there, to the small chamber that was always cluttered with muddy slippers, work boots, and old jackets. Cook knelt there, her head bent toward a small figure that sat huddled on a rough wood bench beside the wall. Ruby paused in the doorway, taking in the scene, regaining her breath. A woman—the shoulders were far too narrow for a man. The cloak, although wet, windblown, and still heavy with snow, was of the finest quality. A narrow, slippered foot slid from beneath mud-splattered skirts. The slipper itself was so coated in dark grime as to appear almost black in the dim light of the room, but a few spots of light-colored silk peeked through.

  The woman shifted, her head still lowered, and Ruby saw the unmistakable full curve of a belly heavy with child.

  One of my girls? Not anyone working for her presently—she would have known if one of them were this far along—but someone from the past? Her mind sped, trying to recall which of her girls had left without notice in the past months. It was not an infrequent occurrence for a girl to be there one day and gone the next. Sometimes they stopped and told her why they were leaving—a new beau or protector, an offer of different employment, the chance to return to family—but just as often she was left to wonder and worry, to hope they had chosen to leave and not been forced to it, or worse…because that was the truth of the profession. Ruby might do all she could for her girls, might offer safety and support, clean beds, and a physician’s care, but her power extended no farther than these walls—and the world outside them could be very cruel, something her girls knew far too well. Not one of them ever came to her because being a whore was the dream of her childhood.

  The woman moaned softly and Ruby stepped forward, reaching a hand to brush gently at the loose pale-blond curl that escaped from beneath the hood. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

  She meant only comfort, but the girl turned her head away, shrinking more deeply into the cloak.

  Cook looked up to Ruby, her eyes troubled and questioning.

  Ruby glanced back, trying again to make sense of the situation.

  Collette? She’d left a few months ago under the support of a young earl. And she was heavy enough that she could have hidden a pregnancy. But, no, the slight figure was not Collette.

  Amy? She was slim, but she’d returned home with her family’s support, and having met the mother who welcomed her back, Ruby had a hard time imagining that she would be turned away again.

  Missy? She’d disappeared near nine months ago after working only a few nights. But would she have returned here if she needed help? It seemed unlikely.

  Annie? Another disappearance, but this time the girl had seemed well settled and almost happy. Ruby had never been comfortable with her departure, but there had been nothing she could do, no way to find her.

  “Can I get you something hot to drink? Tea? Mulled wine? I could even make up some more chocolate,” Cook said, patting the woman on the shoulder.

  No answer, beyond another low murmur.

  “I think some tea sounds just perfect,” Ruby said, rocking back on her heels. “I am sure that we all could use a cup. And, now, can we take this wet cloak away? I am sure it’s doing nothing but helping to chill you further.”

  A slender hand reached out and pulled the cloak tighter.

  Cook shrugged, then walked toward the kitchen to start the tea.

  Ruby looked at a young maid who huddled against the wall. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “There’s not much to tell, Madame. Cook heard a noise at the door and sent me to check. I found her leaning against the door and helped her in. Her legs collapsed under her once she was through the door. She hasn’t said a word since and won’t let go of her cloak.”

  It would not be hard to take the cloak from the woman, but what purpose would that serve? They’d see her face, but they were bound to see it soon anyway, and if she needed a few more moments to feel safe they could certainly give them to her.

  Ruby pushed to standing. “Well, it’s not doing any of us any good standing here in this chilly room. Why don’t we find a fire and settle ourselves about it?”

  The maid kept looking at her, clearly expecting more direction.

  Ruby allowed a sigh to pass her lips. “Take her to my chamber, if she’s willing, and be sure the fire is built high. Bring her up the back stairs; you won’t disturb any of the patrons.”

  She stepped away and let her gaze linger on the woman. “And also see if she’ll let Cook pull off those slippers and stockings and give her a pair of thick socks. Her feet must be freezing, and I don’t need dirt tracked up the stairs.”

  “I’ll get right to it, Madame.” The maid smiled and hurried away, happy to be set about a task.

  Ruby leaned closer to the woman. “You are safe here. I don’t know what your troubles are, but they will not follow you through my doors.” Not tonight, at least; she could only hope that her promise wo
uld hold on the morrow. “Now, will you let Cook help you? And then go up to my chamber for some tea and warmth. It cannot be good for the babe to be here, sitting in the cold. You can keep your cloak as long as you need, but at some point you will have to let it go, unless you intend to sleep huddled and wet in the corner.” She placed a hand on the damp wool of the cloak. “You came to me for a reason; now you must trust that reason. I will do what I can if you give me a chance.”

  Cook reentered the small room. “The tea is steeping, and I’ve got some lovely warm socks for those chilled toes. Come, child, let me help you.” She knelt down beside the woman and waited.

  Ruby watched for a moment, until a slender foot emerged slowly from beneath the skirt. “I’ll just check on the patrons and be sure that all is going smoothly, and then I’ll meet you in my room. I will not be long. I’d hate for my tea to have time to chill.” She turned and walked sedately from the room and back to the front parlor, leaving the woman to Cook’s motherly attention.

  Her mind was still churning with who the woman could be and why she had come.

  Chapter 3

  “I’ve got her settled by the fire, Madame,” Cook said, slipping into the empty parlor—rarely had Ruby been so glad to have so few patrons.

  Ruby nodded, leaving behind thoughts of business, difficult patrons, and her hopes for the special evening she had helped Colton arrange for Angela.

  Cook continued, “She’s had three cups of tea and two of my currant buns, but I’ve seen little more than the point of her chin. She’s always careful to keep her face covered. I don’t know why. How many secrets can a girl think to keep once she’s here?” Cook gestured about the house.

  Ruby smiled. “You know my girls have as many secrets as there are stars above, and there are many reasons a woman wouldn’t want it known she is here. You know how many ladies sneak in with their faces covered.”

  “But they’re ladies.” Cook stated the obvious.

  “And how do you know that she isn’t—or wasn’t? There are plenty born high who fall low.”