2
“M
aman ...”
Christian tried to interrupt his mother again, but she was in full flow and quite unstoppable. Not that she looked old enough to be anyone’s mother as she paced the space in front of his desk, her face flushed, her hands eloquently emphasizing each point. He sat back and just admired the sight, his irritation dying.
Helene stopped and stared at him. “Why are you smiling at me? Were we not fighting?”
He shrugged. “We were, but I was struck anew by your magnificence, and I decided to hold my tongue and save my arguments for something I really care about.”
“You do not care about the future of the pleasure house?”
“
Maman,
we are hardly discussing its demise. You still have ten applicants for every place and our coffers are full.”
“I know that.” Helene resumed her pacing, the blue silk panels of her dress kicking out behind her as if she were a sailing ship in a gale. “But we have always prided ourselves on offering something
more
to our clients, and I fear we are no longer doing so.”
“Because you’ve left the general management to me?” Christian sat up, his good humor evaporating. “I am quite capable of running the business and turning a profit, ma’am.”
“I do not doubt that, but ...” She hesitated and Christian tensed. “I’m not sure if you have the soul to truly understand this place.”
“The soul?” Christian laughed. “Whatever you choose to call the pleasure house, it’s a high-class brothel,
Maman,
and I could run it blindfolded.”
“But it’s not just a business. There’s an art to it and a personal element, which I fear you lack.”
A flicker of heated emotion clenched in Christian’s chest and made it hard for him to breathe. There was a slight movement as the other occupant of the room, who had so far remained silent, cleared his throat.
“Helene ...” Christian stared at his father, Philip, who was watching his mother with a frown. “I hardly think that is fair. Christian has proved an exemplary manager.”
Although Christian resented his father’s quiet interjection, he managed not to show it. He’d learned to his cost that sometimes Philip was the only person Helene would listen to.
Helene sighed. “Of course you would side with him. You are a man. You do not see things the way that I do.”
Philip walked over to Helene and took her hand. “I see that you are worried about your business. I’m just not convinced Christian is the cause of your concerns. You have been closely involved in this place for many years and have only recently attracted some competition. Madame Helene’s is not the only pleasure house available to the rich and sexually adventurous anymore.”
“That is true.” Helene looked up at Philip, and he brought her hand to his lips. “You have a terribly annoying habit of being right, my dear.”
Christian cleared his throat before his parents forgot he was present. “I do agree that we need to formulate some new strategies for the pleasure house. Ambrose and I were talking about it just the other night.”
“What did you envisage?” Helene asked, her face alight with interest.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I have something more definite to share,” Christian said neutrally, and then took a deep breath. “If, however, you have lost confidence in me as your manager, I would be happy to step down.” He would be damned if he’d bow down to all his mother’s whims. He was twenty-six and had been involved in the running of the business since his nineteenth year.
“You do not mean that,” Helene said sharply, her blue eyes flashing. “You are just attempting to put me in my place and I will not have it!”
Christian stood up and rested his hands on the desk. “And weren’t you just trying to do the same to me? I’m tired of this,
Maman
—either let me manage the place in my own way or take it back and run it yourself.”
Helene glared at him. “Perhaps I will do just that!” She turned toward the door. “If you cannot come up with a comprehensive plan to improve our business within the next week, I will be forced to reconsider both my position and yours.”
Christian bowed. “As you wish, ma’am.”
Helene swept out and Christian stared after her. He cursed eloquently in French and sat down with a thump. Philip closed the door and turned back to him.
“That did not go well.”
Christian raised his head to look at his father, who seemed his usual pleasant self. Although Christian favored Helene in looks, he had his father’s hazel eyes and calmer temperament, for which he was secretly grateful. “As you know, my mother is rather overemotional about this place.”
“Do you think so?” Philip contemplated his boots. “She founded it from nothing and under great adversity. I suppose she is entitled to have some attachment to it.”
“I know that, but surely she must realize that she cannot control every damned thing? She questions every innovation I suggest, countermands my orders, and confuses the staff.” Christian shoved a hand through his blond hair. “You cannot wish for her to take complete control of the place again.”
“You are right about that.” Philip smiled. “In truth, I would prefer her to hand over control of the house to you entirely.”
Christian went still. It was the first time Philip had been quite so open with him about the matter. “You would?”
“I’ve waited a long time for your mother, and as you’ve taken more on your shoulders, I’ve enjoyed the last few years immensely.” His smile this time was rueful. “So it seems that for once we are on the same side, Christian.”
“I would be more than willing to work with you, sir, to achieve our aims.”
“I’m sure you would. You’ve always shown remarkably good sense when needed.” Philip checked his pocket watch. “I will find your mother. We are supposed to go and see Lisette and Gabriel this afternoon.”
Christian stood, too, and came around the desk to shake his father’s hand. “Give them my best, won’t you?”
“You don’t wish to accompany us?”
“With my mother in this mood? I think not.”
Philip’s answering smile died. “Families can be very complicated sometimes, can’t they?”
“Well ours is certainly unconventional.” Christian studied Philip’s face. “Is there something else I should know about?” He thought of his younger half sister. “Emily’s well, isn’t she?”
“Emily is very well, although she spends far too much of her time in the kitchens here for a young unmarried lady.” Philip hesitated. “I had a letter from Richard. He’s decided to come to London.”
Christian’s eyebrows rose. Philip’s legitimate son had previously scorned to know his father or his half siblings, preferring to roam Europe and live as a permanent houseguest with his friends rather than deal with his father’s scandalous second marriage.
“Aren’t you pleased?”
“I’m terrified. He’s never hidden his distrust of me, or his displeasure at my marriage. He idolized his mother.”
“Perhaps he’s realized the error of his ways and wishes to make amends.” Christian couldn’t quite believe he was the one trying to reassure his father. Their relationship had scarcely been less complicated than Philip and Richard’s. “By the way, I’m quite willing to meet with him if he wishes to do so.”
Philip clapped him on the shoulder. “I appreciate the offer. It can’t be easy for you either.”
“Do you think Richard fears I’ll kill him in a rage over my illegitimate birth?” Christian shrugged. “He’s more than welcome to your titles.” He walked away from Philip and opened the door. “Now go and find my mother and use your exceptional talent for soothing her ruffled feathers.”
“I’ll do my best, but I suggest you come up with a plan to transform the pleasure house as well.”
“Agreed.”
Christian went back to his desk and sat down. With a groan he put his hands in his hair and stared at his blotter.
“Am I interrupting something?”
He slowly raised his head to find his eyes level with Lieutenant Paul St. Clare’s amused brown gaze.
“What do you want?”
He’d inherited Paul from his brother-in-law, Gabriel Swanfield, when Gabriel had transferred his club membership into Paul’s name. It had been Gabriel’s suggestion that Paul should explore his sexuality at the club. Paul had embraced the opportunity with great gusto and seemed to be always under Christian’s feet.
“Marie-Claude said I should check with you that I am allowed to play the part of a Roman centurion in the orgy room this week.”
“Why does she need my agreement?” Christian asked irritably.
“Because I believe it is to be an all-male affair.”
“I don’t care who or what you fuck, Paul.”
“Well that’s good to know.” Paul crossed one booted foot over the other. “Your brother-in-law still keeps urging me to try new things.”
“Gabriel feels responsible for you.”
“And I keep telling him that is nonsense. My sexual choices are my own.”
Christian held Paul’s heated gaze. “And I agree with you. Do whatever you want.”
“Thank you, Christian.” Paul rose to his feet. “Did you know there is a woman in your kitchen?”
“God, not you as well,” Christian groused. “Another one?”
“I’m not sure what you are talking about, but there is a woman picking very daintily at a croissant in your kitchen. In truth, she reminded me of one of the wax dolls my cousin used to play with—all glossy perfection and tumbling ringlets, but fragile as hell if you dropped them.”
“Ah, that woman.”
“You know of her?”
“I know about everything that goes on here,” Christian snapped at Paul, who looked remarkably unrepentant. “She arrived here about a week ago. Her name is Mrs. Smith and she is seeking a job. She has been recovering from exhaustion. I was unaware that she was up and about.”
“Well, she’s talking to your mother.” Paul yawned as he sauntered over to the door, his uniform coat unbuttoned and his cravat wrinkled. Christian suspected he hadn’t been to bed at all that night. “They seemed to be getting along very nicely. Her French is excellent.”
Christian shot to his feet. “My mother?”
“Well, we all know your mother’s French is excellent, seeing as she was born there. I meant Mrs. Smith’s.” Paul yelped as Christian shoved past him into the hall. “I take it you didn’t wish for them to meet?”
“I ...” Christian stopped walking and stared down the hallway. He had no idea what Mrs. Smith might be saying to his mother, but he had no doubt as to the outcome of her little chat.
“I cannot go back, madame. There is no question of it.” Elizabeth swallowed hard and forced herself to keep her gaze on the beautiful blond woman sitting opposite her. “As I mentioned to your son the other night, I truly have no option other than to remain in England and earn my living.”
Madame Helene nodded, her blue eyes full of sympathy. “France is not a particularly tranquil place at the moment, especially if you are English. There is much resentment over the demise of that upstart Napoléon. I am glad that he was defeated, but there are many who are not.” She reached across and took Elizabeth’s hand. “You must not despair, my dear. Are there any members of your own family who might take you in?”
“I fear they are all deceased, madame.” Elizabeth manufactured another sigh, fairly certain that the astute woman sitting opposite her would not be fooled. “I am truly on my own.”
“Ah, there you are,
Maman
. I believe Philip is looking for you.”
Elizabeth tried not to jump as Christian Delornay’s silken voice came over her shoulder. Madame Helene kept a firm hold on her hand.
“Christian, I think I have a solution to your dilemma.”
“
My
dilemma, ma’am?”
Helene stood and smiled at her son, and Elizabeth suddenly wished she could hide under the table.
“Indeed. I’ve said all along that you lack a woman’s sensitivity for this place.”
“Perhaps because I’m a man? I can scarcely help that, can I?”
There was a snap to Mr. Delornay’s words that made Elizabeth stiffen.
“And you do not need to worry about it anymore.” Helene pointed at Elizabeth. “Mrs. Smith will come and work as your assistant and help you reinvigorate the pleasure house.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and anticipated the explosion of wrath that was sure to come. Instead there was a frozen silence, and she finally had to turn her head to stare at Mr. Delornay. He appeared to have been struck dumb, but his hazel eyes were brimming with fury.
He bowed and Elizabeth flinched.
“As you wish.” He turned to Elizabeth. “Perhaps you might accompany me to my office and we can discuss your duties. I am glad to see that you have recovered.”
Madame Helene gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s right, my dear. Go with Christian. He is an excellent teacher.”