Page 39 of An Extraordinary Lord

“Saffron Hill. At the Court of Miracles.” Setting the unwanted chocolate aside, she summoned what shredded dignity she possessed and lifted her chin to boldly meet the woman’s gaze. “I’m certain you’ve heard of it.”

Madame’s eyes narrowed as she studied Veronica, the rim of the cup poised at her lips. “You might very well be a female thief-taker. After all, I’ve also heard rumors that fairies exist.” She lowered the cup and reached for a piece of toast. “You might live in Saffron Hill now, too, but you certainly didn’t come from there.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You possess a continental accent beneath flawless English, and I didn’t teach you about society manners so much as simply provide reminders of what you’d already been taught.” She waved the toast at Veronica. “The way you talk and move, how you know how to dance and curtsy and hold yourself—how you know French. Oh yes.” Her eyes sparkled at Veronica’s surprise. “Your facial expressions were quite clear whenever Madame Barnaud spoke. You understood perfectly everything she said.”

There was no point in denying it. “Every word.” Veronica paused before adding, “She’s not from royal Paris, you know. She’s lying about her past.”

“So are you. But she makes fine dresses, so I’m willing to live with her lies.” Madame nibbled at the toast, but the tone of her voice was deadly serious. “Why should I be willing to live with yours?”

“Because I make fine dresses,” she quipped.

Madame’s lips curled in amusement.

“And because neither of us seems to have a choice.”

Madame’s smile faded. “Whoareyou?”

“No one important.”

Madame set the unfinished toast onto her plate. “Ah, but Mr. Rivers seems to think you are.” She reached for the chocolate pot to refill her cup and mused, “I wonder what he knows about your past.”

Very little. And I intend to keep it that way.“About as much as he knows about yours.”

Madame paused in midpour. The threat was subtle but clear.

Veronica was done sparring. Now she went for the heart. “You see, I’ve known courtesans my whole life. I know how they move through daily life and society, how they conduct their business. I would assume one would have to be good—verygood—to succeed in Vienna, in the presence of the emperor himself, no less.” She paused for emphasis, the beat of a sword thrust. “And the good ones never end up in brothels. Not even running them.”Touché.She selected a coveted strawberry tartlet from the plate. “Who areyou?”

Madame brought the cup to her lips and smiled against the rim, her cat-like eyes gleaming as she repeated, “No one important.”

“Well then. It would be a shame if Merritt’s time was wasted by learning the truth about the pasts of two women who aren’t at all important.” Veronica popped the tartlet into her mouth. “Don’t you think?”

Madame’s smile widened against her cup, and their gazes met for a long moment, each recognizing the other’s power to inflict damage and knowing they were both on equal ground. Oddly enough, respect blossomed between them because of it.

“I agree,” Madame finally answered.

The tension eased from her shoulders, and Veronica pressed, “I don’t want to know the truth about your past, and I don’t really care who you were then.” But shewasdesperate for other information she could use to pull herself out of the hell her life had become. “What I’d like to know is how you ended up here, a place I’m assuming is far better than wherever you came from.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice, almost pleadingly, “How did you do it? How did you take control of your life?”

“Very carefully.” The enigmatic answer carried a finality with it. Apparently, the mysterious woman had no intention of disclosing anything about her past, including that.

Madame turned away from the breakfast tray to sit at her dressing table. She set down the cup of chocolate and picked up a bottle of lotion, poured out a dollop on her palm, and rubbed her hands together.

She looked at Veronica in the mirror. “Mr. Rivers isn’t the kind of gentleman who takes a mistress. Certainly not one from Saffron Hill.”

That stung, more than she wanted to admit. But then, didn’t the truth often hurt?

Madame didn’t lower her gaze as she rubbed the lotion over her face and neck. “How did you become involved with him?”

“Very carefully,” Veronica repeated dryly.

A knowing smile stretched tightly across Madame’s face. “A barrister with a thief-taker…yes, I’d wager so.” She sensuously rubbed the lotion down her neck and beneath her dressing gown. “Mr. Rivers is a young bachelor of theton, so God only knows what kinds of idiotic ideas are passing through his head about you.” Then she rubbed the lotion over both forearms, and Veronica was struck by how porcelain her skin was. But then, Madame obviously didn’t spend a lot of time outside during sunlit hours. “You, though, have a tendre for him.” Her eyes gleamed with wicked amusement. “Or for parts of him, anyway.”

Veronica knew better than to answer anything to that.

“You’re doing quite well for a woman from Saffron Hill,” Madame purred. “In addition to whatever other agreement you’ve struck, you’ve gotten a new wardrobe from him and an invitation to Carlton House to meet the regent.”

The thought of both made Veronica uneasy.