The Rogue’s Christmas Gift (Wicked Widows League #24)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

F our days later, Kitty found herself in Harrison’s carriage en route to Lady Wyndam’s townhouse. The founder of the Wicked Widow’s League was still in Town for the winter, and Kitty could not believe her own luck.

She had spent four glorious days with Harrison, but now it was time to remedy her precarious situation. No matter how much she enjoyed being at his home and in his bed, Kitty had a life and a business to return to.

Siegfried had written to her, informing her of the horrific changes Pierre was making. For instance, he had opened the house to anyone, as opposed to Kitty, who sold memberships to only a vetted few men and women.

Pleasure House reopened that evening with new rules, a new owner, and a new Madame. It would be the first night that Kitty would not be in attendance at an event at Pleasure House. Pierre had appointed Lilias to be Madame over Kitty’s business. Reading the words nearly had Kitty expelling her simple breakfast.

A small part of Kitty was pleased it was Lilias. The other woman knew the ins and outs of the pleasure house as well as anyone did. It didn’t matter if she could be hostile and problematic—well it did—but Kitty could trust Lilias to look after the workers, or so she hoped.

Pierre had also released half of the household staff including Emmaline. Kitty was furious and hoped that Lady Wyndam could offer her sound advice.

“Are you ready?” Harrison asked, placing his hand on her knee.

He’d insisted on accompanying her to Lady Wyndam’s, as if Kitty was not accustomed to being on her own.

It was a new feeling to depend on another person. Kitty loved Winnie and knew the other woman would always be there for her, but having a partner beside her, supporting her was a strange turn of events.

“Yes, but really, Harrison, you did not have to join me. I am perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” Gazing over at him, she tried to ignore the image of that morning that was on repeat in her mind.

He’d taken her over the breakfast table, after they had a soft-boiled egg and porridge. The feel of him pulsating inside of her was one that she would carry always.

He took her hand in his, pressing it to his chest. The gleam in his green eyes was intense. “I know you don’t need a protector. I’m well aware that you are more than capable of anything.” He kissed her knuckles. “All I want is to stand beside you and fight as your second as you take on the world.”

Kitty couldn’t speak or move. The last four days had been filled with confessions of love, praise of her character, and gleaming attention. It was the same as it had always been between them.

The carriage came to a stop in front of an abnormally large townhouse. Kitty didn’t know if Lady Wyndam could give her any assistance at all, but she wouldn’t rest until she’d tried everything to get Pleasure House back from Pierre.

A knock on the carriage door rang through the small compartment. Kitty took a deep breath, deciding to focus on her visit with Lady Wyndam, not Harrison’s words.

If she thought too long, Kitty would surely dream of a life that had been stolen from her years ago.

Stepping out of the carriage, she walked up to the fine gilded doors, held open by an older butler.

“Lady Wyndam is expecting you,” the butler said, taking Kitty’s card out of her hand.

Kitty and Harrison handed over their cloak and great coat, before following him down the long hall. Her gaze shifted around, taking in the general splendor of it all. The house was a grand mansion, larger than any place she’d ever been. Kitty was sure one could fit the entirety of Pleasure House in Lady Wyndam’s home.

The high ceilings were painted with angelic figures in the middle of what seemed to be a fierce battle. Gold trim lined walls covered with landscape paintings of rolling hills and valleys. Intimidating statues greeted them when they turned down a long hall.

Beside her, Harrison took in their surroundings. They both were born to modest families, their fathers’ business partnership had provided well for them, but nothing compared to the wealth that Lady Wyndam possessed.

It still shocked Kitty that she was around such wealth. Whenever she entered a grand home, she remembered her humble beginnings.

Fortunately, Kitty’s family wasn’t poor, her father was an accomplished furnisher maker, with his own business. His mother was a former enslaved woman, who’d worked as a maid in order to send him to school and make a life for himself.

The wealth of the ton was something Kitty had never dreamed of accomplishing; she’d always thought that her life would be a simple one with children and Harrison. They would spend their evenings listening to her play the piano. Never did she imagine wealth like that of Lady Wyndam.

They stopped in front of a large white door gilded with gold with a carved vine of roses trailing down either side.

“Enter,” a sharp voice called out.

Opening the door, the butler walked into the lavish sitting room adorned with dark blue furnishings and wooden bookshelves. The long white drapes were opened, revealing a picturesque view of the gardens.

A dignified woman, dressed in a red dress with a gold bodice, sat in a stately chair facing the door. Her dark brown hair was streaked with gray as sharp brown eyes surveyed Kitty then Harrison. She tightly grasped an ornate cane with intricate carving at the base.

“The Earl of Hendershot and Mrs. Delcour, my lady.” The butler bowed gracefully, and it felt more like Kitty was being introduced to the Queen herself instead a matron of the Widow’s League.

“That’ll be all, close the door behind you please,” Lady Wyndam ordered, pointing her cane at the butler, who obeyed immediately.

When they were alone, Kitty stepped forward. “Lady Wyndam, thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice,” Kitty said, inclining her head.

“None of that my dear Mrs. Delcour. I am duty bound to assist any widow in need, and you, my dear, are the most infamous of all.” She tilted her head at Kitty. “Now, please do be seated.” She pointed her cane to the sofa to her right.

Well aware of society’s rumors, Kitty was constantly being gossiped about. The women insisted she was sleeping with their husbands, and ruining happy homes. The men claimed they all had either slept with her or she’d done them some type of sexual favor.

All lies of course.

“My lady.” Hendershot greeted Lady Wyndam, walking over and taking her offered hand in his.

He bowed gracefully, and Kitty was sure that the formidable woman was blushing.

“The Earl of Hendershot in my home.” Her smile was wide as her eyes roamed his physique. “I had heard you had an obsession with our Mrs. Delcour here. I guess some rumors are true.”

Hendershot sat down beside Kitty. “This one is at least,” he responded, his hungry gaze falling onto Kitty.

Kitty could feel her cheeks heat with the memory of just how insatiable he was in bed.

“Hmm, I see indeed,” Lady Wyndam responded before turning to face Kitty. “I’ve heard of your recent troubles with your late husband’s brother, is it?” she asked, sitting back in her chair.

Kitty inhaled a deep breath, not accustomed to asking anyone for help. She had taken care of herself and those around her for years; now she was being saved by everyone. It was strange, to be sure, but also nice to know that others would help her in her time of need.

“Yes. My late husband, Jacques’s, brother claims that he provided the initial investment to open Pleasure House,” Kitty said, the words tasting like acid on her tongue.

In all her conversations with Jacques, not once had he mentioned receiving funds from Pierre. No matter who shared Jacques’s bed, he and Kitty had always maintained a close friendship.

She’d discovered only months after arriving at Pleasure House that she had quite a head for business and numbers. Kitty had always enjoyed helping her father keep his ledgers and had once dreamed of owning a business herself.

“Two judges of the Court of Chancery are backing his claim, saying he provided proof.” Harrison sat forward beside her.

“Woodson and Belville, I’m sure.” Lady Wyndam sneered out their names.

“How did you know?” Kitty asked her.

“Belville and Woodson’s proclivities are well circulated among the ton . Of course, they would work with your brother-in-law to gain access to your business.” She tapped her cane on the carpet twice. “Did your late husband leave a will?”

Kitty pressed her fingers to her forehead, dreading the mention of a will again. “He had one created after we wed, to ensure that me and …” Kitty closed her mouth, clearing her throat several times before she continued. “In the event of his death, he ensured that Pleasure House remained in my possession.”

She looked over to Harrison, praying he didn’t catch her slip of tongue. She had agreed to be Jacques’s wife on the condition that he would provide for her and her unborn child if something ever happened to him.

“Have you any idea where it may be?” The older woman peered at her, waiting patiently.

After Jacques died in a duel, it had been absolute chaos at Pleasure House. Half of the workers Jacques employed left immediately after the news of his death came. Only those loyal to Kitty remained, and Lilias, who had nowhere else to go.

She and Lilias had packed up his belongings, the study and Pleasure House officially belonged to Kitty. All he requested was that she never take down the horrible painting of his beloved Lyon. His mother had painted it before the family moved to England.

A gasp left her. She had kept the painting hanging in the study since his death, never taking it down or throwing it out like she’d wanted. Although she’d never loved Jacques, he was a friend to her, and despite everything, he’d saved her.

“I believe I know where it is,” she said, shocked that she had not thought of it earlier.

It was the one thing he’d always insisted upon, that she never part with the painting.

“You do?” Harrison asked.

Doubt clouded her mind, but she hoped she was right.

“I believe so.” Renewed hope filled her, and she couldn’t stop her leg from bouncing up and down in anticipation.

“Good, retrieve the will and have your barrister take it to the court. Once that is done, your business will be yours.” Lady Wyndam gave her a triumphant smile.

“Is it really that easy?” Kitty couldn’t believe that her nightmare would soon be over.

Lady Wyndam stood, using her cane for leverage. “My dear, if there is one thing The Court of Chancery takes seriously it is a will. Believe me.”

Harrison stood, and Kitty followed, sensing that Lady Wyndam was bringing an end to their meeting.

“Thank you, Lady Wyndam. You are most knowledgeable,” Kitty praised, thankful that the woman was still in Town, and that she had agreed to meet with her.

“When you live as long as I, you learn how to think like a man thinks. No offence Hendershot, but your sex isn’t the brightest after all.” She patted Harrison on his shoulder like he was a small boy and not a grown man.

Kitty couldn’t control her laughter.

“None taken, my lady,” Harrison replied, ever the gentleman.

“Now, Mrs. Delcour, if you find yourself in need of lodgings, Matron Manor, the widows’ headquarters, can be prepared for you.” She leaned on her cane, peering at Kitty with a keen eye. “But I believe you are in excellent hands.”

Momentarily speechless, Kitty did not know what to say about her kindness. When one did not receive such treatment from family, it was hard to accept it from others, but Kitty saw she was no longer alone.

“Thank you, Lady Wyndam. That is most kind of you. If things change, I will consider it,” she said, honestly.

“Good.” She walked toward the door, the soft thump of her cane hitting the carpet. “One more thing, my dear.” She stopped, turning to look from Kitty to Harrison.

“Yes?” Kitty asked, expectantly.

“One way to protect yourself from ever losing your business again is to find yourself a titled husband. An earl perhaps?” She tilted her head toward Harrison, taking the breath away from Kitty.

Dear God, not her too.

Harrison, coughed beside her. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Coward.

He left her alone with the head of the Widows’ League. Kitty appreciated her opinion, but really marriage? She could admit to herself that as of four days ago, she never wanted to leave Harrison’s side, but marry him and give up everything, she couldn’t. That wasn’t her only reason—marrying him meant she would have to eventually tell him about Christopher.

“You want to be with him, don’t you?” Lady Wyndam’s sharp voice interrupted her musings.

“It is not that easy. Society would never accept me as his countess?—”

She sucked her teeth, a very un-lady like gesture. “Society can go to the devil. You two have feelings for each other, and you are staying at his home, are you not?” Lady Wyndam tilted her head, waiting patiently for Kitty to answer.

“Yes, but there are other reasons that I can’t marry him,” the words caught in her throat, wetness clouding her eyes.

Lady Wyndam placed a wrinkled hand over Kitty’s. “My dear, take advice from an old woman. If a man looked at me the way Hendershot looks at you, I’d marry him in a heartbeat, and to hell with everything else.” She lifted her cane slightly in the air.

Kitty couldn’t help but to admire the older woman. It seemed like she wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, something that Kitty tried, but deep down she was afraid of everything.

Shaking her head, “I wish it was that easy.”

“It is that easy if it’s love. All you have to do is be brave enough to take it.” She pointed her free hand at Kitty. “You don’t get many chances at happiness, Mrs. Delcour.” She leaned on her cane, her eyes blazing with fire. “What will you do with yours?”

She tapped the floor two times with her cane before she turned and walked out of the room.

Kitty stood for a moment, unable to breathe, to think, to do anything at all.