Page 10 of The Rogue's Christmas Gift
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, naïve 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?—”