Cora (Virtue & Vice #4)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CORA

February ~ Wilder & Co.

“T o what do I owe this unexpected visit, Cora?”

“I need you to teach me to play billiards.”

Eryx barely glanced up from the papers stacked on his desk. He looked like he was being buried in paperwork. Haphazard piles listed dangerously on every square inch of surface.

But the pinched expression was gone from his eyes. His shoulders weren’t stiff and next to his ears. He was more relaxed than she’d seen him since before Christmas, and that brought Cora some relief.

Now, if she could only fix her own predicament.

“I don’t have time for games. Wentworth is making me straighten out years’ worth of documentation. I am loath to admit your husband is right, but there it is. Once I get this sorted, I should have a free hand to run my bank again.”

“Have you heard from Countess Oreste?” she asked.

He sat back and sighed, covering his face with both hands. “No. I’m worried, Cora. Bella doesn’t disappear on a whim.”

Cora’s hands worked in a mindless, soothing notion. How well did she really know the countess? How well did anyone? Belladonna undoubtedly had her reasons for staying away for so long.

“Do you know where she might have gone?”

“France.” Eryx’s attention was already back on his stupid paperwork. He wanted her to go away. Cora was accustomed to ignoring such unspoken requests.

“Has anyone gone to inquire at her residence in Paris?”

“Yes, Cora. Her brother and I both sent inquiries. Her housekeeper says she hasn’t visited in almost a year.” Frustration clipped his words.

Why keep an apartment if one never used it?

Owning property was a way to store wealth, Cora supposed. “I’m sure there is no reason to worry. The countess will come home when she is good and ready.”

Eryx tented his fingertips and gave her a look. The kind of look that made her feel small and powerless—a mix of pity and frustration at her ignorance, tempered with affection.

“I fear for her safety. Particularly after…” He broke off. “After Erskine’s death.”

“I remember.” How could she not? The Opposition Leader had been found dead at a house party last autumn. His death had been ruled an accident, but there were whispers about him being poisoned—by Countess Oreste. Now, she had disappeared.

“She didn’t have anything to do with it, though. Did she?”

Cora’s certainty that the woman could take care of herself wavered.

“Bella has made enemies. Many of them. Powerful ones. Your husband wants the bank separated from her influence. He says it’s unseemly for a woman to be involved in business. Moreover, the Queen doesn’t like it.”

Cora had several thoughts on the subject of Queen Victoria pushing a successful businesswoman out. She didn’t dare voice them.

“Enough about my worries.” Eryx shoved back his chair and came out from behind the desk. “How are things with your wretch of a husband?”

His eyes searched her face. Cora didn’t have an answer.

“Your honeymoon has been…” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “Acceptable?”

Cora had the mad urge to laugh. What honeymoon? They had spent the first three weeks arguing whenever they saw one another, and avoiding one another as much as possible.

And then there was last night. The billiards table. She was still reeling from what she’d inadvertently revealed. She had expected anger. Certainly, an argument. Instead, he’d stalked away seeming…sad.

She hadn’t been able to shake the shame that clung to her ever since.

“Gideon bought me a piano,” she blurted out. Heat rushed to her face as she realized she’d used his given name. Eryx’s eyebrows shot up.

“You speak of him familiarly now?”

“I—”

Cora turned away. She didn’t know how to explain the situation with Gideon. Luckily, she was spared the difficulty of trying to articulate her evolving feelings about her marriage.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me, Cor. I’m surprised to hear you’re getting on, is all. Happy for you. But I don’t know what to make of the piano. Do you think he bought it to taunt you about what happened at the Pindell’s?”

“I don’t know what he meant by it.” Strangely, she was starting to believe Gideon’s explanation.

“Have you played?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

She could only shrug. She did miss the smooth glide of keys beneath her fingers and the vibrations deep within the instrument. Not playing piano for all these years felt like silencing her own voice. She had done it out of hurt and stubbornness, but she wanted to move past that.

Heat rushed through her again as she recalled what had happened on the billiards table. Not from embarrassment, although that was part of it. From the things he’d said as he touched her.

Say you forgive me, and I’ll give you the stars.

She wanted the stars Gideon had dangled. She wanted sparks and fireworks, all the explosions his sinful lips had promised. Yet she wasn’t sure she could tamp down her pride long enough to truly forgive him for publicly humiliating her, and she knew in her bones that he would accept nothing less than total capitulation. That was his nature. Wolfish.

The question remained: was she part of his pack, or was she the prey he hunted?

“You were an excellent player, Cora. Would it be so bad to try it again?” Eryx said quietly.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I am more interested in learning how to play billiards well enough to defeat my husband.”

“Can’t help you there, Cor.” He returned to his desk with a sigh. “Ask Lysander. He might have time to show you the basics.”

* * *

Lysander laughed in her face.

“No, I won’t teach you, Cora. Ladies don’t play billiards. What would Mrs. Wentworth think?”

“I have been trying not to consider what Martha might think, actually.” It did not take much imagination to know that her mother-in-law would not approve—which only made her more determined to learn. Once the Season was in full swing, she wouldn’t have as much opportunity to practice.

Lysander didn’t ask what her husband would think. Nor did he inquire about the state of her marriage. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He considered other people’s marriages none of his business. A defense mechanism, she knew, from the way his parents had used him as collateral in a proxy war against one another.

Cora couldn’t ask Honey for help. Her friend would barely know what billiards was, and asking her would only invite questions that would inevitably make their way into the ears of polite Society, thus undermining Gideon and Martha’s efforts to prove she was in fact a lady worthy of respect and admiration.

That left only underhanded means to attain her objective—a return to the House of Virtue. Ladies did not resort to underhanded means, but desperate times, desperate measures and such. Under the pretext of visiting Honey, she took a detour to Number 9 Dove Street.

“Visiting hours aren’t until the afternoon,” Starke informed her bluntly.

“I am not here to pretend I’m reforming whores,” Cora said just as bluntly. “I want to see Tulip. I have personal matters to discuss with her.”

“Wait here.”

Cora examined the elegant foyer with its marble and gold trim, silk wallpaper, and tasteful art.

“Tulip will see you,” Starke intoned. This time, she was permitted past the tasteful foyer and beyond the front parlor. He led her down a hallway that caused Cora to gape at the statues in niches. Naked. Every last one of them. The male form in all its splendor.

What would Gideon look like naked?

After a month of marriage, she still didn’t know. Her throat closed as she was swamped with an unfamiliar feeling: longing.

For the man who had ruined her life, then caged her in an unconsummated marriage. If he’d waited years to claim her as he said, then why was he ignoring her during what was supposedly their honeymoon?

Cora’s education in the world of highbrow brothel art continued when Starke led her into a tastefully appointed library. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary, an exceptionally luxurious and comfortable place to read.

But now that Cora was attuned to the true nature of the House of Virtue, her gaze kept snagging on small details: the gilt-stamped titles on the spines of books that hinted at salacious content, mixed in with classic works of literature. The statuette of a?—

Her teeth clicked together. She hadn’t even been aware of her mouth hanging open until the life-sized figurine of man’s erect penis sitting on a shelf caught her attention.

“Mind your step.”

Cora stumbled. Starke caught her elbow to steady her. He led her to the corner where Tulip, her blond hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, sat ramrod straight at a delicate escritoire. The visual contrast between her black leather corset with a short leather skirt, and the dainty lady’s writing desk, startled Cora into stupefied silence.

She settled into the chair Starke pulled out for her on the opposite side of the desk.

“Is Daisy not joining us?”

“She’s tied up at the moment. With a ball gag in her mouth.” Tulip’s mouth turned down at the corners. “It’s the only way I can stand that woman. When she’s immobilized and silent.”

“What on earth is a ‘ball gag’? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Tulip’s lips twitched. “Are you sure? I could give you a tour. Your brother might murder me for it if he finds out, but he doesn’t come around much anymore.”

Cora raised both hands. “Stop. I don’t want to know anything about my brother’s activities here, or anywhere else.”

“What about Annalise’s?” Tulip folded her hands and placed her chin on them, grinning mischievously.

“No.”

She knew her sister-in-law had spent time here, but Cora preferred not to know the full story of how she and Eryx had met. Some secrets were better left in the dark.

“How’s the honeymoon?”

Cora huffed and glanced away. Heat raced over her skin, thinking of their billiards game the night before.

“That good, huh? I could teach you a few tricks for the bedroom. If you wanted.”

“Does he ever come here?” Cora demanded. She glanced guiltily around the library, but they were alone. Still, she whispered when she said, “For sex?”

Tulip threw back her head and laughed. “Wentworth? Visit his enemy’s brothel?”

Confused, Cora sat back. “Countess Oreste and Gideon are enemies?”

“Not Belladonna. Your brother.”

“Oh. Right.”

She knew that. She had simply always assumed the loathing was one-sided, flowing from her family toward him. Gideon had always appeared indifferent to the havoc he’d wrought. This tidbit of information added to her questions and piqued her already-unbearable curiosity about him.

“That isn’t why I’m here today.” Cora inhaled a fortifying breath. This was hardly the first time she’d been in an unfamiliar situation. She would manage. There was no one she knew socially here to witness her embarrassment, which helped. After one had endured a public humiliation, the prospect of a second held less terror.

Tulip tapped her toe impatiently. “What does bring you to the House of Virtue, then?”

She inhaled deeply. “Can you teach me to play billiards?”