Page 38 of An Extraordinary Lord

As she rose gracefully to her feet, Madame combed her fingers through her hair to shake it loose over her shoulders. She nodded at Veronica. “Miss Chase will be our guest for the next two days. Have a room prepared for her, and please see that all her needs are met.”

“Yes, ma’am.” A curious glance in Veronica’s direction followed, but the maid knew not to ask who she was or why she was here. Questions were dangerous in a brothel.

“That will be all, thank you.” Madame dismissed her by reaching for the chocolate pot and giving the molinet a quick twirl to whip up the chocolate. “I’ll send for you in a few hours when I’m done napping. You may come for Miss Chase when her room is ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The maid drew the heavy drapes in the adjoining bedroom so Madame could sleep away her morning, as she most likely did every day. She sketched a curtsy to both women and left.

“You seem surprised,” Madame commented, holding out the cup of chocolate toward Veronica. “Didn’t you think I have a maid?”

She accepted the chocolate with a sting of chagrin. “I didn’t expect uniformed servants.”

“I keep a full staff here.” Madame reached for one of the strawberry tartlets. “Maids, footmen, housekeeper, butler.” She took a bite of the tartlet and gave an appreciative sound. “And the best cook this side of Piccadilly.”

Prodded by Madame, Veronica helped herself to one of the berries. The tartness of the berry followed by the sweet velvet of the chocolate—divine. Luxuries she never would have expected to find in a brothel.

“This place is my business, but it’s also my home and the home of the other women who work here.” Madame finished the tartlet, her lips nearly as red as the strawberry filling. She delicately brushed the crumbs from her fingertips, then reached for the chocolate pot to pour a cup for herself. “I keep it just as I would any other house in Mayfair, including making certain I have the staff necessary to run it properly and ensure it remains a safe haven for everyone who lives here.”

“Other brothels don’t do that.”

“Other brothels don’t cater to the same level of clientele that I do.” Pride laced her voice.

“Is that why Merritt keeps threatening to shut you down?” Veronica cast a glance out the window at the row of buildings lining the opposite side of the street, one of which housed Almack’s. “You’re awfully close to their world.”

“Mr. Rivers is a mere nuisance, although he certainly has the power to do exactly as he threatens.” She warned quietly, her gaze intense, “Do not underestimate that man.”

Veronica had already learned that lesson.

“I do as he asks because it’s in my best interests to remain on the favorable side of a barrister, not because of his threats.” Madame’s red lips curled slowly. “And he’sveryentertaining.”

Yes. Veronica had learnedthatlesson, too. Quite well.

“London is full of women who have no choice but to sell their bodies to survive. Here, I provide a place for them.” Madame gestured a hand to indicate the house around them. “But make no mistake—I am first and always a businesswoman. But my business also helps the dozen or so women I’m able to hire, women who would still be forced to sell themselves but otherwise not have anyone to offer support. In exchange for a portion of their earnings, I let them live here in comfortable rooms and ensure they have everything they need, including security, clothing, food, and servants to take care of them and the house.”

Veronica thought of the Court of Miracles, how she and Filipe worked to provide the same for the people who lived there. “So they’re family to you?”

“Of course not.” Madame sent her a bemused look. “They’re my employees. They’re business assets, and a woman in my business always takes care of her assets.”

“Yes,” she mumbled against the rim of the cup as she took a sip of chocolate, hiding her amusement. “I suppose she does.”

“It’s quite simple. I offer them protection, and in return, they offer me their loyalty.”

In that, Madame was no different from Filipe. He had made his way through the world by constructing a web of favors and opportunities that allowed him to profit from others as they profited, just as she had. He’d also carefully crafted a persona that allowed him to hide the truth of his past, just as she had.

Veronica stared down into the dark puddle inside the cup. “Merritt said you were at the court of the Holy Roman Emperor.”

“I was. Vienna before 1806 was simply amazing.” Madame’s eyes brightened with a faraway gleam. “Such grand palaces, gardens, fountains—music everywhere, even drifting from open windows as you walked past on the avenues below. Ladies wore wide dresses of shimmering satins, and distinguished gentlemen donned their red heels, all vying to be noticed at court.”

“How lovely.” Veronica paused as she traced a fingertip around the rim of her cup. “But while you might have been at the Viennese court, you weren’t a high-ranking courtesan.”

She raised her eyes in time to see a stunned expression flash across Madame’s face.Caught.

“I’m not judging or accusing,” she amended. “It doesn’t matter to me what you did in your past. We all have our secrets.” The surprise in Madame’s eyes darkened inscrutably. “But I would like to know how you came to be here, how you created a better life for yourself than the one fate gave you.”

“Tit for tat,” Madame purred, having corralled her surprise behind the mysterious air she cultivated. Then she attacked—“Who areyou?”

“I told you.” She carefully sipped the chocolate, more to hide any stray emotions that might be visible on her face than because she wanted a drink. “I’m a thief-taker.”Of sorts.

“Hmm.” The disbelief in that single sound resonated as loudly as cannon fire. “And where do you live? It isn’t Mayfair.”