Chapter 9

The ballroom of Pleasure House was slightly less crowded than a typical ton event, but Letty was still surprised by how many members of society were actually in attendance. She’d heard bits and pieces of information from gossip—and Cleo, of course—on the famous establishment owned by Madam Kitty Delcour—a woman of color. Letty had never dared to grace its doors with her presence … until now.

It was the perfect distraction she needed to forget about her parents with their conditional love and Mac with his dubious attempt to ruin her.

It was still difficult for Letty to absorb how terribly wrong she’d been about Mac Meriweather. He wasn’t the honorable and trustworthy man she’d fallen in love with at all, and that realization broke her heart all over again.

Perhaps that man didn’t even exist.

She stood at the entrance of a glittering ballroom completely decorated in red and black. The flickering glow of candlelight giving it a forbidden appeal. Letty held her head high as she plucked a glass of champagne from a passing servant. Taking a sip, she fought against the large birds that had taken flight in her belly, wishing she had the protection of a mask. Perhaps that would have given her more courage—but no, she was done hiding and sulking like a wounded animal.

Most events at Pleasure House were more discreet in nature, but that night, everyone’s identity was revealed.

Gazing at the uncomfortably thin chairs against the wall, Letty ignored the need to flee all the attention she was currently receiving just by standing there.

“What an enticing creature you are,” an extremely tall man with blonde hair said, blocking her path.

“Creature? Really, do most women like being called a creature?” Letty asked, finding it rather difficult to speak with anyone who would label her an animal.

“Bollingbrook, I can’t allow you to keep this one to yourself.” Another man closer to her father’s age joined them, and suddenly Letty realized she was being surrounded by different gentlemen.

“Indeed, he cannot. I wouldn’t mind fancying a taste of you.” A short, stout man, closer to her mother’s age, trailed a fat finger down her exposed arm.

Letty jerked back, unable to hide her shock at his words and the audacity he had touching her.

“Please keep your hands to yourself, sir,” she said glaring at the man, who took her comment as a jest.

His laughter felt like fingernails against her skin. Letty turned to walk away from the growing crowd of gentlemen admirers. Before she could move away from the hungry men, somebody grabbed her arm and hauled her into a hard body.

Drat!

Was this the treatment that was allowed at Pleasure House?

“Gentlemen, please release the lady,” a beautiful woman of African descent commanded as she threaded her way gracefully through the crowd.

“Madam Delcour, we had no idea you were hiding such a treasure,” the stout man who had grabbed Letty said.

“No matter, please do not manhandle my guests unless asked, Lord Ashwood.” The smile on Madam Delcour’s pristine face was friendly enough, but her steely gaze left little doubt that the consequences of disobedience would be dire.

It was then Letty noticed two men standing at the ready behind Madam Delcour.

“Thank you, Madam. If you’ll excuse us,” Winnie, the Duchess of Richmore, said from beside the proprietress of Pleasure House.

Letty couldn’t stop staring at Madam Delcour. She was simply radiant in a black and white gown that clung to every dip and curve of her body. The bodice was cut obscenely low, revealing her ample bosom. Thick curly black hair hung in ringlets down her long slender neck.

Letty allowed Winnie to pull her to the small section of chairs. Unlike at a regular ball, there were only four chairs in a small circle. They were embroidered in black satin and were the most comfortable set of chairs she had ever felt.

She sighed, sitting back against the smooth material. Once a wallflower, always a wallflower. She could admit to herself that she had always quite enjoyed being a wallflower.

“What on earth are you doing here, Letty?” Winnie asked, radiant as ever in a dark blue gown.

Letty sighed, happy that the young duchess and the proprietress had orchestrated her escape from the crowd of admirers she had unwillingly attracted.

“I thought it would help me forget my problems,” she admitted, suddenly weary and ready to return home.

The argument she had with her parents sat heavy on her heart. She had said some rather harsh things to both of them and could still see the hurt in their eyes.

The duchess sat down beside Letty. “Yes, there are rumors about you and Meriweather, but surely you didn’t have to come here?”

“It seemed a grand idea at the time. However, I never thought I would attract unwanted attention.” She admitted her naivete clearly now that she was at Pleasure House.

“Yes, they do get rather indecorous when there is a new lady around, I’ve noticed.” Winnie sat down beside her.

“Why are you here?” Letty couldn’t help but to ask.

“Richard brings me sometimes to celebrate how we met and to forget our duties. It is a way to keep our marriage lively.” She winked at Letty.

Letty laughed, hard, for the first time since the previous evening. “Lively? Is that what we’re calling it?” she asked, remembering the same words from Winnie’s husband when they discovered her and Mac together.

“Yes, and soon you’ll understand when you and Mr. Meriweather marry.” Her words were so sure that a small portion of Letty wished there was some way for her to forgive what Mac had done to her, but there wasn’t.

Letty shook her head, fighting back the tears that wanted to fall freely. “I won’t be marrying Mr. Meriweather.”

Pain pierced her at her own confession, and not until that moment had she realized that marrying Mac was exactly what her heart desired.

The duchess took Letty by the hand. “Why do you say that? Did something happen?”

She cleared her throat, afraid that she would cry right there in the crowded ballroom. “It was all a lie. My brother paid him to pretend to care for me, and he agreed to save the print shop.”

That was the truth and it hurt, but hadn’t she told him to do whatever it took to save The Hard Truth? Letty just had not fathomed that hurting her would be the thing to save his paper.

“Save the print shop?” Winnie tilted her head back in thought. “There must be some mistake as Mr. Meriweather sent Richard a note accepting his offer of funds this afternoon.”

Letty’s broken heart filled with hope at Winnie’s words. It didn’t make sense that Mac would need to accept funds from the duke if Bertram had already paid him what they’d agreed.

Swallowing several times, she tried to speak but was unable to find her voice through the chaos that was running through her mind. Gripping her seat, Letty closed her eyes, cursing herself for wanting Mac to be innocent.

“Why don’t we get you home.” Winnie stood, looking down at Letty. “I’ll get Richard and we’ll escort you in our carriage.”

Letty shook her head. “No, I couldn’t pull you away?—”

Winnie waved her hand, then tilted her head toward the small crowd of admirers looking hungrily at Letty. “Nonsense, besides, I think it’s best that we get you away from the wolves.”

Yes, it was time for her to go home. Letty was suddenly weary and knew that coming to Pleasure House had not been her brightest idea.

“Very well, I’ll meet you both at the entrance.” Letty stood, straightening out her gown.

“Good.” Winnie gave her a bright smile. “And a word of advice …” Winnie took her hand again, giving it a squeeze. “When I was in a similar position as you, I found that talking to Richard helped.”

The duchess walked away in search of her husband, leaving Letty alone with her thoughts.

She didn’t want to talk to Mac. She wanted to shout and demand he tell her why he would deceive her in such a way. Purposely conspiring with her foul, loathsome brother to take what was hers by right.

There was a part of Letty that no longer wanted her inheritance. If Bertram was willing to stoop to such lengths, perhaps he should have it.

Letty maneuvered her way through the throng of people, avoiding several gentlemen who tried to engage her. Letty made haste toward the ballroom exit, but was surprised by her brother blocking her way.

“Well, well, well,” Bertram sneered at her, his cold hazel eyes taking her in with distaste. “I would say I’m surprised to see you here, but I suppose you need a profession now that father has come to his senses.”

Letty couldn’t stop the laugh that broke free when she realized the power she had over her brother. “You’re so pathetic, Bertram. Your entire life ruined because of me, and you think that gives you the right to ruin mine? Well it doesn’t, and I don’t care if Father gives you every farthing because unlike you, it doesn’t define who I am. Now move out of my way.” Letty tried to push past her brother, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

“It doesn’t matter that Meriweather refused to take my funds. Father knows exactly what you are— a worthless whore just like your mother.”

Along with the other occupants in the ballroom, Letty gasped in shock. Before she could defend herself or her mother, Mac appeared, snatching Bertram away from her and punched him.

Bertram fell to the ground, his hand holding his jaw.

Letty stumbled for a moment before she righted herself. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mouth was suddenly dry, and she could do nothing but stand there and stare at Mac.

“If you ever fucking touch her again, I’ll do more than punch you in the face!” Mac shouted.

Silence smothered the ballroom, everyone staring at the scene in front of them. Letty stood as still as a Greek statue, her gaze on the man she’d thought had betrayed her.

He hadn’t taken the funds. That was the only thought playing repeatedly in her mind.

“Meriweather, step away,” the Duke of Richmore said, pulling on Mac’s arm as the duchess led Letty out of the ballroom.

Once outside the ballroom, Mac cupped her cheek with shaky hands. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine, Mac.” She shook her head, basking in his touch. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here because I can’t live without you. Nothing matters but you. Not the print shop, not me, nothing.” He pressed his forehead to hers, tears in his eyes.

“Meriweather, don’t do this. Escort Lady Leticia home so that you can speak more privately,” the Duke of Richmore said from behind Mac.

“I have your father’s carriage. Come.” Mac took her by the hand, and she couldn’t help but feel the rightness in that single act.

Letty’s body trembled as Mac led her out of Pleasure House. She didn’t know how it was possible that he was in possession of her father’s carriage and coachman—all she knew was that he was there.

For her.