Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

K itty stood staring at the door willing him to return, but minutes—maybe hours—had passed and still Harrison did not appear. Kitty’s harsh pants and the loud pounding of her heart in her own ears were the only sounds in the otherwise quiet room.

Gone.

She had always assumed that, like her; he was happy with their arrangement—no, not happy, complacent. He’d always wanted to marry her, but the thought of giving up everything after enduring Jacques for years scared her. But that wasn’t her only reason for refusing him. The truth was that Kitty feared his reaction to the truth about the child she was carrying when her family had disowned her.

Closing her eyes, she allowed the tears to fall. She’d lost him once and survived. Kitty would survive again without him. What choice did she have? Pleasure House needed her. Her employees needed her. She couldn’t run away and become a countess.

Not only was she a Madame, but she was also a woman of color. Was he really so ignorant to believe that society would ever accept her as his wife?

Glancing around the room, her gaze landed on the hideous painting of Lyon that Jacques’s mother had gifted him. Grimacing, Kitty wished she had the heart to throw it out, but it was one of the few things Jacques had ever asked of her. For some strange reason, he wanted Kitty to keep the painting always, and so she had.

“Kitty,” Winnie’s light voice called from the doorway.

Kitty spun around to face her friend, wiping hastily at her eyes. She hated that Harrison had the power to turn her into a simpering young girl. It had been years since she’d felt any emotion at all. After she lost the babe, it was difficult for her to feel anything ever again.

“Winnie, have you and Richmore come for more excitement?” she asked her friend as she continued to brush the tears from her cheeks.

Winnie closed the door behind her, giving Kitty a sad smile. “If you would just tell him?—”

“No. It was a long time ago.” She swallowed before sitting down in one of the black upholstered chairs in front of her desk. “It doesn’t matter. Besides, I can’t just marry an earl. I’m a businesswoman. People depend on me.”

“What about you, Kitty? Haven’t you sacrificed enough? Don’t you deserve to be happy with the man you love?” Winnie asked, taking a seat in the chair beside her.

Winnie was her oldest and dearest friend. In some ways, she was her only friend outside of Pleasure House, and though their lives had taken different routes, Kitty could always depend on her friendship.

Kitty closed her eyes, fighting the emotion that was swelling up inside of her. “I don’t love Harrison, Winnie.” The lie felt heavy on her tongue. “Not anymore. A foolish girl loved him once. I am not her.” That was the truth. She wasn’t the young, na?ve girl who fell in love with her friend.

The idea of love and romance had long perished in Kitty’s mind. After being disowned by her father, and abandoned—or so she believed—by Harrison, she’d given up all hope of happiness. For months, her every desire and dream were all wrapped up in the tiny being growing inside of her. Until she held the babe’s small lifeless body in her weak arms.

Kitty could still remember thin wispy hair and beautiful brown skin, the perfect combination of Harrison and herself.

Winnie reached over and placed her gloved hand on top of Kitty’s, which laid limply on her thigh. “I think it is time you realize that you were a young girl in need of help. You put your trust in someone who may not have deserved it. But Harrison is not Jacques, and I know how much he still loves you.” Winnie stood before she knelt down in front of Kitty. Her kind blue eyes sparkling in the candlelit room. “It’s time you told Harrison about Christopher.”

The breath left Kitty at the mention of her son’s name.

Christopher Thomas was born six months after Kitty’s father disowned her and Harrison’s father inherited an earldom. He took three shallow breaths in her arms and was gone before she could tell him goodbye.

A knock on the door startled her. She stood abruptly, trying to compose herself before she drifted back in time. They were her darkest days, and Kitty had feared that she never would recover, but little by little, piece by piece, she had. Surprisingly, it was Lilias who had helped her through losing a part of herself.

Winnie stood with Kitty, passing her a small smile. “Think about it, Kitty,” she said. “You can still have all of this, and the life you lost with Harrison.”

Once, she’d dreamed of a simple life with Harrison in Nottingham. When she’d learned she was with child, Kitty had feared many things, but not once had she doubted Harrison’s love for her. Not until her father deemed her a foolish girl who had allowed herself to be ruined, and he never arrived to redeem her. When she finally learned that Harrison did indeed want her and had traveled both to her parent’s and uncle’s homes, it was too late. Kitty had married Jacques and lost Harrison forever.

Words failed her for several long moments until another knock on the door snapped her to action. There was no time for the past, only the present.

“Enter.” Her voice was loud and commanding.

She was Madame Delcour, not some simpering girl with no family, no connections, and a babe in her belly. With or without Harrison, Kitty had always made a way for herself and that would never change.

Siegfried entered with a grim look on his face. “Delcour is here.”

Kitty groaned, not wanting to have Jacques’s infuriating brother anywhere near her at that moment. She wasn’t surprised that Pierre had the audacity to interrupt one of her parties. The man was simply ridiculous.

After battling Pierre for over a year in the Court of Chancery, she had hoped that his claim on Pleasure House would be dismissed. But really, what did she expect from a court filled with men? Of course, they believed Pierre’s lies.

Running her fingers through her curls, she pulled at them, attempting to make herself more presentable. Showing any signs of weakness with a man like Pierre Delcour was a mistake that Kitty could not afford to make.

“I will see you in the ballroom. I’m sure Richard must be looking for me.” Winnie gave Kitty’s hand another squeeze before walking out the room.

“What would you like me to do, Madame?” Siegfried asked, standing by the door with his arms folded.

He was a soldier ready for battle at all times, and she could always depend on his unwavering commitment to her and Pleasure House.

“Nothing. I’ll handle Pierre.” Kitty straightened her shoulders and held her head high, like her mother had instilled in her as a girl.

Kitty would not cower in the corner and allow Pierre to take everything that she had worked for away from her. Strolling past Siegfried, she glided through the halls, trying not to allow her mind to wander to Harrison.

Pain coursed through her at the very thought of losing him forever. Kitty gripped at her abdomen. The hollow, empty feeling that had always plagued her threatened to engulf her whole, but she couldn’t allow that to happen.

Gliding past couples intertwined in various states of undress, she perused them, ensuring that there was nothing too untoward happening. Kitty didn’t allow public displays of lewdness at her establishment. Yes, it was a gentlemen’s club, to be sure, but it was not a bawdy house where someone would just shag in the middle of the hall. It was a business with class, and though it was not an event of the ton, she still expected everyone to conduct themselves with some comportment.

She stopped in front of a couple hidden in an alcove right outside the ballroom. One of the woman’s brown legs was draped over the man’s muscled arm as he fumbled with opening his trousers.

“Fatima,” Kitty said, addressing the young, pretty Indian woman in her employ. “Please escort the viscount to the Paris room.”

Fatima jumped into action, removing herself from Viscount Ashwood’s embrace. “Yes Madame.”

Leaving the fumbling couple, Kitty continued to the front door, where she discovered her dead husband’s brother glaring at her security like they were beneath him.

Pierre Delcour looked nothing like his late brother. Where Jacques was tall and handsome with a personality that could charm the dead into waking, Pierre was unpleasant, short and overly large for his height. His long dark hair hung to wide shoulders, sunken eyes often peered at one too long, as his thin mouth was permanently pursed in disapproval.

As Kitty slowed in front of the small crowd in the vestibule, Pierre looked at her in triumphant. “Hello, dear sister?—”

“I’m not your sister,” she said, reaching him.

“No, you’re not. That will be evident when I have you on your back like the whore you are,” he sneered.

“I see that you’re still delusional. Now please leave my business Pierre?—”

“See, that is where you are wrong, my dear. I have been informed that soon it will be my business.” He gave her a triumphant smile that caused fear to seize her in place.

No. It couldn’t be possible. There was no proof.

Kitty knew that Pierre had no proof that he had given Jacques the funds to open the business. Jacques himself had informed her that he was gifted the large townhouse from his grandfather, and that the funds used were his own.

The Court of Chancery could not be so cruel. Or would they?

“I just wanted to inform you of your choices.” His eyes perused her person, and she suddenly felt ill to her stomach. “You can stay and work as my whore. It’s what my brother should’ve done with you. Why he ever married you, I have no idea.”

The triumphant gleam in his eyes unnerved Kitty completely, and all she wanted to do was rush to court and demand answers.

Taking several deep breaths, she centered herself, refusing to allow such a man any power over her. It didn’t matter what Pierre thought he knew; the truth was that Pleasure House was hers and she would not relinquish it to him.

She took a stepped toward him, looking into his eyes. It was an easy feat, as they were the same height. “I will never be your whore. You couldn’t pay me to be in your bed.” Kitty turned to address security but was suddenly grabbed.

“Don’t you dare turn your back on me.” He jerked her to him.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” she said, pulling her hand from his grasp as Siegfried and his team took hold of Pierre. “Escort him out, please.”

Siegfried grabbed Pierre by his lapels, dragging him toward the door. A small crowd of guests had come out to witness the commotion.

“Yes, Madame.”

“I’ll be back and when I do, you’ll be on your knees begging me to let you stay.” Spittle ran down his chin.

“I’ll never beg.” Kitty held her head high, but inside she was shaking. “I’ll destroy you.”

It didn’t matter what the outcome of the court was, she would never allow such a man to destroy everything she had built.

Pleasure House was her legacy, her home, and she would always have it, no matter what.