A Very Ruby Christmas

by Lavinia Kent

  Forever. She would be his forever. She would trust him and care for him—and depend on him.

  She pressed closer, returning his kiss—and let the magic take them.

  Epilogue

  Mrs. Derek Price stood on the docks, watching the dinghy that would take her out to the Dawn’s Light draw closer. The great ship lay at anchor a hundred yards out in the harbor, sailors bustling about on deck, stowing away cargo. Derek was already there, making sure that all was ready for her arrival. Her chest grew tight as she stared at the ship.

  This was it, the moment Ruby had been waiting for with great anticipation. The moment she’d been dreading.

  She’d taken care of everything that needed to be dealt with immediately and found ways to manage everything else until she could return at the end of next summer.

  The sea wind beat against her face, wiping away the tears that threatened. She had no doubts that she was doing the right thing, but, as with a small child, any first step could be hard.

  She turned back from the water and found her sister staring at her intently. Leaving Jasmine would be the hardest thing of all. Even a few weeks ago she had thought that leaving Madame Rouge’s would be hard, but in the end it had been surprisingly easy. It was leaving her newly discovered sister that was pulling at her heartstrings. And that wasn’t even thinking about sweet little Hope, who lay in her mother’s arms, well bundled.

  “You are worrying about me,” Jasmine said.

  “No, I am already missing you. I would never have dreamed how much I would come to care for you in such a short while. I didn’t even know something was missing until I met you and you filled a hole.”

  Jasmine smiled. “I know. And I don’t know how I can ever thank you for all you have done for me. I never imagined the life that you have offered, a life in which I am in charge of everything.”

  Ruby forced her cheeks up in a smile. “You say that now, but wait until the first time a patron asks for something you have never even heard of or the first time that Lord Thorton starts to bellow that he will ruin you.”

  “Madame Noir has promised to help with the first. I could never have done this if she had not promised to stay in London for a few months. And Lord Swanston has promised to be sure the second cannot cause too much trouble,” Jasmine answered.

  “And Colton will help too. He has much experience with Lord Thorton.” Angela stepped out from behind Jasmine, Louisa at her side.

  “And do not underestimate us,” Louisa added. “We can be far more help than you could ever imagine. I already have a dozen ideas.”

  That thought almost made Ruby shudder. She did love Louisa, but she feared that Swanston’s family might be rubbing off on her. She’d expressed some of the most outlandish ideas recently.

  There was a cry from behind and the sound of a rope whistling through the air as it was thrown and caught and tied off. The dinghy had arrived.

  It was time to go.

  Ruby caught her sister tight, the small warm body of Hope wiggling between them.

  Louisa and Angela huddled close, adding their own hugs of farewell.

  Ruby had to fight to hold back the tears now. She might be heading toward everything she had ever wanted, but that did not make it easy to leave things behind. She knew she would be back in less than a year—her grandfather had made certain threats to Derek if they were not—but still it felt as if she was leaving something behind forever. “And do give Bliss my best. I was so glad I got a chance to visit with her before I departed. I wish I could stay long enough to meet her coming child. And when Sarah returns, thank her for the mistletoe. I have written her, but letters are just not the same.”

  “I promise I will,” Angela said, and Louisa nodded her agreement.

  Then it truly was time to go.

  One last hug to her sister and each of her friends, and then she turned and strode toward the dinghy.

  Only as she stepped into it did she look back.

  Her sister stood there, straight and tall, her pale hair rioting about her head as the wind pulled at its pins.

  Ruby gave one last wave and grabbed hold of one of the oarsman’s hands, stepping down into the boat.

  Madame Rouge was finished.

  It was time for Madame Blanche.

  BY LAVINIA KENT

  Bound and Determined series

  Mastering the Marquess

  Revealing Ruby (novella)

  Bound by Bliss

  Sarah’s Surrender (novella)

  Ravishing Ruby

  Angel in Scarlet

  A Very Ruby Christmas

  About the Author

  LAVINIA KENT is a former two-term president of the Washington Romance Writers and a four-time Romance Writers of America Golden Heart nominee. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her family and an ever-changing menagerie of pets.

  Want more from Lavinia Kent?

  laviniakent.com

  Facebook.com/​LaviniaKent

  @laviniakent

  Read on for a sneak peek of the next intoxicating, erotic historical romance in Lavinia Kent’s Bound and Determined series

  Tangled in Sin

  Available from Loveswept

  Chapter 1

  “Is it really you?”

  Cynthia Westhope heard her own words echo about the finely appointed parlor of Madame Blanche’s Club for Gentlemen of Taste and wished she’d exhibited more control. She had planned her words so carefully and now couldn’t remember a single one. Just being here filled her with nervous energy. She was at a brothel, a notorious brothel. Her toes curled in her slippers.

  “I am not sure what you mean.” The reserved woman dressed all in silvery white stepped closer, her pale blond hair swept back tightly, a delicate half mask covering her upper face, although it was not yet noon—nor a masquerade. Her lips were colored the crimson of a midsummer’s rose, the only splash of color on her icy countenance. Icy. That was exactly the right word; looking at her made Cynthia want to shiver.

  She must be Madame Blanche, but could she also be Cynthia’s dear friend Jasmine? It seemed impossible, and yet there was no single facial feature that made it so. The shape of the chin was Jasmine’s, as were the vivid blue eyes. But could this cold figure really be the friend she had so dearly loved? Could her childhood best friend have become a scandalous madame? “I don’t know why you feel the need to pretend with me, Jasmine.” Her friend’s name left her lips both as a statement and a question.

  “I am Madame Blanche,” the woman stated, her tone stiff and calm, lacking the joy that had always marked Jasmine’s voice. She did not move to take a seat of her own, did not sit down to gossip and catch up as Jasmine would have.

  Cynthia bowed her head, resting it upon her palm, examining the woman. She was as slim as Jasmine, the stiff brocade of her gown highlighting the fact. Her bosom was larger than Cynthia recalled, but such things could change—or simply be padding. Was she Jasmine? She had to be, didn’t she? All the rumors said she was, and why else would the woman even have allowed Cynthia entry? But how could Jasmine, daughter of the Duke of Scarlett, have come to manage a brothel? The idea was horrifying—but also a little exciting.

  Chewing on her lower lip, Cynthia considered. Why had she come here, risked so much to see her friend? She knew she should not have. She should have stayed safe at home and ignored the rumors, but from the first moment she’d heard them she’d known they were true, known that this explained why Jasmine’s father had refused to allow Cynthia to visit his sick daughter for almost half a year—and why Jasmine had failed to answer Cynthia’s many notes. “Why did you not tell me?” she asked her voice low. She did not look up.

  “Tell you what?” Madame Blanche replied, not a drop of warmth in her tone.

  “Tell me what happened. I would have helped. I still want to help.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” the woman answered, her voice growing sharp.

  Cynthia raised her head and stared at Madame
Blanche until the woman turned and met her gaze. “You know exactly what I am talking about, Jasmine. We have played dress-up together since we could walk. Do you think a little powder and a mask will keep me from knowing you?”

  Madame Blanche drew nearer, stopping only when she stared down at Cynthia. “I think if you are wise you will let it be—you will realize you are mistaken.”

  Cynthia blinked back tears at the cold words. All she wanted was to help. “I am already not wise; you know that. I should not even be here.”

  “No, you should not.” The woman looked away again, heartless.

  Closing her eyes to hold back her emotions, and the questions that had been troubling her for days, Cynthia asked, “How could I not come? You were my best friend. I know I should have inquired earlier, but…”

  “It is too late now. And it was probably too late even then. Go home, Miss Westhope, and forget about this day. Forget about everything.”

  Trying to be strong, to do what she must, Cynthia raised her head and stared at Madame Blanche. “It would be impossible to forget. How can I forget when I loved you like a sister? How can I forget when I failed you in some way so that you could not come to me? Just tell me what has happened and then I will go.”

  The woman gave a small snort, the first sign of actual humanity, of the friend Cynthia had known so well. “If I were to admit to knowing you, Miss Westhope, I would surely know that you rarely follow through on such statements. There is always one more step before you will do as requested. If I were to tell you my story then you would have six more questions.”

  “But, Jasmine…?”

  “No.”

  “At least tell me if the rumors are true. Do you have a child? Is that why…?”

  “That does not matter. I have already said too much. Go home, Miss Westhope. Go home and forget this all. What is done is done. There is no going back.”

  It was what she should do, what a proper lady would do, but how could she? And deep in her soul she was curious. This was a piece of the world she had never dreamed to experience. “Talk to me, Jasmine.

  “Please just let it go, Sin.” There was a desperate edge to Madame Blanche’s voice. “Please. There truly is nothing that can be done now. If you’ve heard rumors, then surely so has half of London. Let it be.”

  Hearing the familiar nickname, Cynthia felt a pang deep in her chest. James, Jasmine’s brother, had first taken to calling her Sin, and Jasmine had soon followed after, both making it clear that it was “Sin” and not “Cyn.” At first she’d hated it, but now it made her long for the world she had always known, the friend who was closer than any sister and the aggravating young man whom she’d liked far too much.

  And that was the problem. She knew Jasmine was right: She should leave, should pretend never to have come to this place. She should leave the infamous brothel, draped in all her disguising veils, and never think of it again, never think of the friend she had loved and lost, never think that she might have helped, never think that…How could she leave Jasmine, leave her here? Even thinking about it made her stomach roil, made her forget the sense of adventure she’d felt in coming. “Please Jasmine, I need to understand before I go. I need to know there is nothing I could have done. I will never forgive myself if I leave without knowing.”

  If it was possible, Madame Blanche grew even paler. “And you think this is about you?”

  “You know I don’t mean it that way. I care about you. I have always cared about you. Let me know how I can help.”

  Madame Blanche turned and walked away, standing at the window, but clearly not seeing anything. “There is no help. You must accept that, Miss Westhope, and also accept that I am not distraught. I have found safety in this place, and it provides me with far more than I ever dreamed.” She gestured about the elegantly appointed room.

  “How can being at this place be considered safe? I know what this place is. How can working as a whore be a good thing? Please come with me, Jasmine. I have enough money that I can set you up someplace—nothing grand, but someplace clean, and…and if we told my father, you know he would help you regardless of what the story is. The earl has always regarded you a second daughter.”

  “My own father, the duke, was more than ready to help—I just did not care for the type of help he offered. His help came with a stiff price, as it always does. If my father would not help me freely, do you really think your father would be any different? Men always want something.” It was impossible to mistake the bitterness of her tone.

  “Your father, the duke, would not…?” Cynthia was tired of not finishing sentences, but this whole conversation was filled with things she didn’t have the words for. A father who would not help his daughter was more than she could understand.

  “The Duke of Scarlett would not.” The words were said with such vehemence that Cynthia knew better than to pursue that line of conversation.

  “I can still help you myself.”

  Madame Blanche turned back. “How? Do you really have such funds? Are you going to send me your pin money for all eternity? And what of when you marry? Will you explain me to your husband? No, Sin, you must go. Go and not look back. Go now, before anyone finds you here. You always were foolish, but this is beyond all.”

  “How can you say that? You know I only want to help. I have been eaten alive with guilt that I did not try to find you earlier. I should have known something was wrong when you left in such a fashion, but I could not see beyond my own hurt. I thought it was me you were turning from. I never even imagined that…”

  “Then don’t imagine.” Madame Blanche finally came and took the seat across from her as if wearied beyond all thought. “Why must you always be so difficult? Can’t you do what you should, just this once? You always did act before thinking. Anything for your sense of adventure.”

  Cynthia forced her cheeks up. “Why would I change now?” A thought came to her, a way of delaying the inevitable. “Let me see the baby, if there is a baby, and then I will go. Let me have this one chance to see my best friend’s child. I always thought I would be there with you when the time came, that we would be mothers together.”

  Tired blue eyes stared at her from behind the satin mask, considering the truth of her words. A long sigh. The rigid features melted just a little. “Oh, Sin, you always could wear me down. Will you promise me you will leave, then, and mean it? I cannot bear it if you get dragged into this mess as well. I know that you always keep your promises.”

  That was true; a promise was sacred. And there was a child. She had known that there must be, that nothing else would explain everything, and yet it took her by surprise. Jasmine had a baby. Jasmine had had relations with a man, sexual relations—relations she had not told her best friend about. Still, Cynthia kept her face calm. “Yes, I promise. Let me see your child, and perhaps hold the babe for a moment, and then I will leave.” She was not promising not to come back. If Jasmine did have a child, then she needed Cynthia more than ever, and Cynthia would not desert her friend a second time.

  Madame Blanche rose, walked to the door, opened it, and poked her head out, speaking to whomever stood in the hall. She came back and took her seat again, her back straight as a board. “Are the rumors really so clear that you knew where to find me?”

  That was easy, at least. “You should not wear the diamonds if you don’t want society to know who you are. There is only one diamond necklace of that description about, and everyone knows you had it. Why did you wear it if you are trying to hide? I hear Scarlett threw a goblet across the room when he heard.”

  “That does sound like my father—like the duke.” Madame Blanche lifted a hand and stroked her neck, bare now. “I don’t know why I wear it, but I felt I had to. Madame Rouge, the old owner, always wore sapphire ear bobs, and I wanted my own token. I feel stronger when I wear the diamonds, and yet removed from myself. When I put them on I feel powerful and strong. I forget my fears. I become somebody else. I don’t need to be afraid.”

/>   And she was afraid the rest of the time? Cynthia could feel her friend’s pain, could not even imagine what it must be like to be forced into such a position, to be alone in the world. “You are strong. You always have been. You do not need diamonds for that. And why court trouble?”

  “Do you think I am—courting trouble? I admit I was worried at first, but now I think that I have actually made it impossible for my father to do anything. Whatever he does will be seen as confirming rumor, and he would never want that. If he ignores it he can pretend that the necklace is paste, that I am some charlatan. I am sure that if asked directly he would still say that I am off in the country recovering from some illness. I am not sure how long it will be before I die a mysterious death. He’s probably already arranging the tomb.”

  Cynthia could not even imagine such a thing. “Don’t say that. He is your father. You know he cares for you. I am sure he is trying to find a way to bring you back home. Although you are correct, he does claim you are in the country and too ill to be visited.”

  Madame Blanche looked down at her hands. “I am not surprised. And yes, he does want to bring me home, but not with any plan that would find me willing. I will never give up my daughter.”

  “Daughter? You have a baby girl?” Somehow that made the child real, in a way she had not been until that moment.

  “Yes, the most perfect little girl.” Madame Blanche raised her head and something shone in her eyes, a glow that Cynthia had never seen on her friend’s face.

  Cynthia became more determined to find a road out of this mess. “Perhaps he could say that you are widowed? That would explain the child.”

  “You know better than that. Perhaps if the war still raged—not that I would ever wish such a thing—but then it might be believed that I had loved unwisely and married in secret before my husband went off to die a heroic death. But even then no one would truly believe it. Everyone knows my father is more than capable of bribing a vicar to change a parish record. You must face it, Sin. I am ruined, ruined beyond repair, and not as unhappy about it as one might expect. There is a strange power in being beyond society.”