by Lavinia Kent
Cook just stared at her. “Still, I think you should. A woman needs a little every now and then. I heard he was a sailor, which means he’ll be gone soon. Why not have a little fun?”
“Did Madame Noir ever…? Besides her duke, I mean.” The question just slipped from her lips.
“Now, that would be telling. But she certainly did smile many a morning after she’d been out visiting friends for the evening.”
Ruby chewed on her lower lip. She’d run the house for nearly a decade and only taken two lovers, neither of them patrons. She’d never felt the need for more.
But something was stirring within her now, something she wasn’t sure she wanted to give in to.
Hell, she didn’t even like the man.
She might even strongly dislike him.
He was an arrogant ass, walking into her house and making demands.
Only…only something about him did capture her interest, and given how long it was since that had happened it was worth paying attention to. Even her last lover had not affected her like this, not made her breath grow shallow and her breast peak, not caused that unquenchable ache between her thighs.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Thinking about him?”
“Yes.” There was no point in denying it when Cook was watching her so closely. “It is a bad idea, however. My life is quite satisfactory as it is. Why should I take risks by changing it?”
“I don’t see any risk. He’ll be gone in a week, two at most. You can always wear a wig and hope he doesn’t recognize you.” Cook laughed, her eyes on Ruby’s bright red curls. “What would be the harm? It’s not like you’re a virgin.”
No, she wasn’t a virgin, hadn’t been one for more than a decade. She knew how to prevent a child, and if she was here in the house she would be safe. What would be the harm? It wasn’t like she was in danger of falling in love with the man. She didn’t even like him; emotional attachment was not a danger.
So, why not have a little fun? Tilly had certainly looked satisfied, and if she was going to take a lover why not take one who lasted the entire night?
Only, it all seemed a little sordid. He had been with Tilly just last night. And she did like to think she still clung to some standards.
It would never do.
And the only way to protect her identity would be to let him think her a whore—an ambition she’d never had. She might not look down on her girls, understanding the necessity that had driven them to their position, but it didn’t mean that she wanted to join them—and if she took the captain’s money she would.
How could she not take it? If she refused payment he’d become suspicious and if somehow she slipped from his room, he’d just pay Madame Rouge—assuming he hadn’t already paid her. The whole thing was far too complicated.
“You are thinking too much,” Cook said, rising from her seat.
Ruby was not at all sure about that. How could it be possible to think too much? Her life would have been very different if only she’d thought more and acted less ten years ago.
Chapter Three
Ruby heard the first patron come through the door. Lord Thorton. The man was one of the few who strode in as if coming home after a long day. He greeted everyone with a smile and called hellos to any girls who were in sight. Most men snuck in or walked with purpose—knowing just what they wanted and not looking about. Lord Thorton always stopped and chatted. Granted, the man’s wife had died a few years before and he had no children. He just might actually consider this home.
Ruby glanced in the mirror by the door, being sure that she was fit for display, because display it was. Madame Rouge was all glitter and shine, ready smiles and deep sexy laugh. The laugh was natural, she’d had it since she was a child, but she would have been an idiot not to understand its effect on men.
Her dress this evening was blue, sapphire-blue velvet. A dress that begged to be stroked and petted. Tiny puff sleeves edged the shallow bodice. The waist was high, as was the fashion, and the skirts fell loose. Or it should have been loose; the soft silk velvet clung to her like another skin. The red wig lay in loose curls about her face and shoulders. Her cosmetics were restrained, a darkening of lashes and lips, her cheeks left pale.
Men always expected her to be wearing red or black, but she liked to add a bit of variety to the mix. And she’d come to realize that in their minds she wore red no matter what. Half the men who saw her tonight would swear the gown was red.
Perfect—or at least almost so. Reaching into the drawer nearest the door she pulled out a large pair of sapphire ear bobs. She wore them every night that she worked. They were her private talisman. They hung an inch or two above her shoulders, dancing in the candlelight. Everyone assumed they were paste. She could probably have worn them out walking at midnight and escaped theft. They were far too large to be real.
But they were.
Her father had given them to her mother upon her birth. It was why she wore them each night when she opened the doors and invited guests into her parlor, a symbol of what her life had been and what she had made it.
There, now she was perfect.
Placing a look of warm welcome upon her face she swung the doors wide, inviting the men into her elaborate parlor.
“Welcome, Lord Thorton. It is so good to see you again.”
—
Derek almost hadn’t come. It was true that he still felt anger at being cheated, but the amount had been trivial in the great scheme of things. The last thing he needed was another confrontation with the far-too-intriguing madame. Ruby was trouble and anybody with eyes could see that.
He should have sent his cabin boy over to pick up the monies. No. He was all too aware what young Peter would have thought upon entering the house. A boy of that age had enough dreams of naked women running through his mind without confronting him with the actual thing. Not that one was likely to see more than a flash of shoulder or ankle at Madame Rouge’s before one had presented payment. Ruby had been a stickler for having the money first.
Still, he could have sent any one of the sailors. He couldn’t claim that the rest of his men were too innocent to visit a whorehouse.
So why was he standing outside the bright red door waiting to go in? He glanced at the discreet brass plaque to the left of the door: Madame Rouge’s House for Gentlemen of Taste. It didn’t say just what they required a taste for. And based on some of the things he’d seen and heard he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He loved women. They were magic creatures, but all he wanted from them was a simple fuck. He didn’t need any complications.
And he still had Thompson to worry about. He’d tried again to persuade his mate to accompany him, but to no avail. If the man didn’t cheer up soon Derek would be tempted to toss him to the sharks. A knot curled in his gut as he considered his friend’s predicament.
He lifted the large knocker and let it fall. Instantly the door swung open. The older man who’d greeted him, and then given way to his ire earlier, answered. His eyes grew large as he first met Derek’s gaze, but then he carefully covered his expression with a welcoming smile. “Please come in, Captain Price. I believe Madame Rouge is waiting in the parlor.”
Derek followed him down the hall to the door he had passed through that afternoon. Now the door stood open and a woman’s low, husky laugh drifted through it. His body tightened at the sound, his toes curling. Was that her? It was not the laugh he would have imagined, far deeper and huskier, but it suited her. Oh yes, it suited her.
He strode in without looking about.
Ruby reclined upon the chaise in much the same manner as she had earlier that day, one arm draped elegantly across the back, the other lying by her side. He wondered if she’d practiced the pose to make it look so natural.
He blinked. Bloody hell, the woman knew how to dress. His fingers longed to brush the velvet over those mounded breasts, to stroke and squeeze until her nipples puckered against the fabric. His cock was firm against his leg and rising steadily—and he was sure th
at was just what she’d intended.
She glanced up as he entered, her lips curving in a slight arch, telling him that he’d guessed correctly about her intentions. She held his gaze for just a moment, her sparkling blue eyes speaking of forbidden delights, before she glanced back to the somewhat older gentleman who sat across from her. “Lord Thorton, I’d like to introduce you to Captain Price. I am afraid he’s American, but he seems to have some degree of taste despite that fact. Captain Price, Lord Thorton.” Ruby nodded as she spoke, her smile light and careful, holding back any offense her words might cause.
Lord Thorton turned. “Pleased to meet you—and clearly he must have taste if he finds himself here.”
Ruby tittered, far different than the laugh of a moment before. “You are such a flatterer.”
“Evidently not enough of one or you’d not be sending me upstairs to another,” Lord Thorton replied.
Derek’s hands curled into fists at the man’s words and he forced them open. The man was a good two decades older than Ruby and beginning to grow a paunch. “I believe we have some business to attend to, Madame Rouge.”
Ruby nodded, and then turned back to Lord Thorton. “Mary should be here any moment to take you up. I’ve put you in the green chamber just as you requested and asked that a light repast be served there. Is there anything else that you require?”
“Not that you’re willing to give me,” Lord Thorton replied.
Derek worked to keep his hands open and loose. “Shall I wait?”
Ruby turned to him. “Perhaps I can have Mr. Simms show you upstairs and I’ll join you as soon as I have Lord Thorton settled. Is that acceptable?”
Derek glanced at the other man, who was staring straight at Ruby’s breasts. He had to admit he felt some sympathy for the fellow, but that didn’t prevent the desire to punch him. “That would be fine.”
“Joining the captain upstairs, are you, Ruby? I do hope you’re not offering him anything you refused me, my dear.”
Ruby slapped Thorton lightly. “Of course not. You know I always stick to my rules.”
Thorton’s face grew solemn. “That’s good. I am a big believer in not breaking the rules. Bad things happen when you break the rules.”
Derek’s desire to plant a fist in the man’s face grew. Life was so much simpler at sea. There was no need for pretense there, no need to hide behind the veneer of civilization. “I do hope that is not a threat, my lord. I am sure you realize that Madame Rouge is more than capable of making her own decisions.”
“Still, a gentleman always cares for a lady, when possible.”
Well, at least he called her lady, even if Derek was none too fond of the man’s tone or the fact that his eyes were still on her breasts.
Before he could reply, the older man, Mr. Simms, came to the door, and directed him to the stairs. He wasn’t quite sure why he couldn’t just take care of the matter in the parlor, but perhaps Ruby guessed he’d have other needs this night. He hadn’t come here intending to indulge, but seeing the delectable madame in that dress had definitely stirred things down below. He wondered if it was worth propositioning her again.
Probably not, which was a problem because he wasn’t sure anyone else could relieve his growing frustration.
—
Normally, Ruby would have admitted to feeling an edge of exhilaration over having two men fighting for her attention. There was something about rippling muscles and flared nostrils that did get to a woman. They might as well be stallions scenting a mare, ready to do battle.
And she had enjoyed watching Captain Price curl and uncurl those long, calloused fingers. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wishing that Mary would arrive. Lord Thorton was good company and he always kept his flirtation to a light level; it was only the captain’s presence that had brought the escalation.
Turning to look at Lord Thorton, she wondered why she’d never found him desirable. He was a trifle older, it was true, but she’d never found that unattractive. He was kind, well-spoken, and she’d never heard a girl complain about him, but he simply didn’t interest her. It was a pity. If she was going to take another lover he would have been an excellent choice. She imagined he’d have no problem agreeing to a discreet arrangement away from the house.
Only she didn’t feel desire for him, none at all.
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider my offer?” he asked, as if reading her thoughts. “I do think we could get along quite well together. I always find you such good company.”
Such good company? Wasn’t that what a girl wanted to hear? “I am sorry, but rules are rules.” She picked up her closed fan off a nearby table and batted him playfully.
He smiled back.
Normalcy returned.
“Oh, here’s Mary. And she’s wearing the gown you like so much.”
Mary came forth with a giggle and sway and led Lord Thorton away.
Letting out a long sigh, Ruby glanced about and then scratched under her wig. It was feeling monstrously heavy and she longed to take it off. If only there was a way. Perhaps she should tell Simms that she had a headache and let him care for the house the rest of the night. She didn’t do it often, but it would be far from the first time.
Only she did have to deal with Captain Price first. It would be cowardly not to. And a woman on her own who didn’t act bravely didn’t last long.
A quick glance in the mirror. Did her lips need more color? No, they were quite flushed, as were her cheeks. If anything she needed a touch of powder, not that she thought the captain would mind.
The captain.
He was why she was flushed. There was no denying it.
She wasn’t quite sure what it was about him that had her acting like a young girl, but there was something—and it was far more than the physical. She saw plenty of attractive, well-muscled men every day. If anything the man was too muscled, almost burly. He looked like a man who worked for a living. She bet he pulled on ropes himself—or whatever it was that sailors did. Heaved heavy crates? Climbed the riggings? He certainly did something.
Now, those thoughts weren’t helping. If she weren’t careful she’d be redder than her cherry tarts any moment now.
Just take care of the matter. Then it would be over and done with and she could put it, and him, out of her thoughts.
With that in mind she squared her shoulders while giving her lips a welcoming curl and proceeded up the stairs. She stopped to greet several patrons and to give a reassuring pat to one of her newer girls. She’d have to take a peek when she was done with Captain Price to be sure that everything was acceptable. Sometimes the newer girls didn’t know where to draw lines.
Ruby knew all about drawing lines. She wouldn’t have succeeded if she didn’t.
“You bitch.” The words were not screamed, but were spoken with such raw anger that Ruby felt the shiver run down her spine as they rolled down the hall.
Geoffrey, the Marquess of Swanston. That was unusual. She’d never seen him lose his control. Didn’t know it was possible.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, stopping halfway down the hall.
“Tell that bloody woman I never want to see her again. And if you had any sense you’d keep her from your house.” He started to walk past her, all dark cloth and masculine swagger, a riding crop tapping against the top of his boots.
“You need to tell me more than that if you want me to help.” This was not what she needed right now.
Geoffrey stopped and turned to her, his dark eyes flashing. “The Countess has a girl in there. I doubt she’s fourteen.” He nodded at the door he’d just slammed. “She seems to think I’d take pleasure in punishing an unwilling child. She is clearly mad.”
Before he could say more the door opened and a tall, black-haired woman exited, her mouth a slash of crimson. She stared at Ruby a moment, and then discounted her, her eyes moving to Geoffrey. She stepped from the room, letting her robe fall open, revealing that she wore nothing beneath it. Old welts marked
her thighs. “Come back, Geoffrey. It’s just a game.”
Ah, Lady Ormande, the Countess. Yes, that explained much.
“Not a game I care to play,” Geoffrey answered, turning away again.
“Come now. It’s not so different than the games we’ve played before,” the Countess answered. “I just thought it would be delightful to add something extra to the fun.”
“No. And we are done.”
“If you don’t like her I’ll find someone else,” the Countess tried again, stepping forward, her body sensuous and serpentine.
Geoffrey stared at her coldly. “I’ve told you. I like to play one-on-one.”
“But…”
“I mean it. I am done.” Geoffrey turned to Ruby. “Forgive the disturbance, Madame Rouge. You can send the bills for tonight to my man. After this I will never pay for her messes again.” He nodded to the Countess. “And please be sure that poor girl is well paid and taken care of. This was never what I wanted.” He strode down the stairs, boot heels clicking.
Ruby held in the sigh. One more thing to deal with this evening. She turned to the Countess. “Is what he says true?”
The Countess tightened her lips. “Of course not. It is all a misunderstanding. She merely looks young and is a better actress than I credited. I never thought he’d believe her performance.”
“I will need to talk to her. Tonight. You know there are things that are not allowed here. Not by anyone.”
The Countess looked about to argue.
Ruby felt Billy materialize behind her. The man had good instincts when it came to trouble.
The Countess took one look at him and stepped back. “I will send the girl out.”
Ruby considered. “I think Billy, here, can go in and wait with her until I am ready.” She turned to Billy. “You can send for Marie if the girl seems to need further help. I’ll come and talk to her as soon I finish with my business.”
“I tell you she’s fine. Just a little whore I picked up on the street,” the Countess protested.
Ruby wanted to slap her. She hated for one woman to have so little consideration for another. Men were bad enough. Instead, she pasted—and it took a lot of glue—her professional smile on. “I am sure everything will be fine, then, and we will have no further trouble. I do hate trouble.”