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

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

T he cool December air whipped across Kitty’s skin as she and Harrison ran through the gardens of Pleasure House. She stopped beside the shed, the loud sound of music and debauchery floating in the air.

Couples were scattered on the balcony, the doors of the ballroom opened. Kitty frowned. She would never have the doors open during the winter, letting out the heat. What on earth was Pierre thinking with the price of coal being outrageous?

“Dear God, you should wear breeches all the time,” Harrison whispered against her ear, one of his hands roaming her curves.

They left their cloaks and greatcoats in the carriage, preferring not to be hindered as they maneuvered around Pleasure House.

From the moment Kitty had exited the countess’s rooms wearing a pair of his breeches, Harrison could not keep his eyes off her derriere. The tightness around her thighs and bottom was not lost to her, but she did not think it would have such a lasting effect on him. Since they were a tad too long on her much shorter frame, Kitty had rolled them repeatedly, holding them in place with pins.

Stopping the descent of his hand, Kitty peered at him over her shoulder, a teasing grin on her lips. “Follow me.”

“Anywhere,” he replied.

Since Kitty had revealed the secret of their son’s life and death to him, everything between them had changed. Their conversation lighter, more flirtatious and teasing.

Kitty herself no longer had the impediment of the past pressing down on her, threatening to crush her from within.

Guiding Harrison behind her, she was careful to stay hidden in the shrubbery. The occupants on the balcony were too busy engaging in their wicked activities to notice them. Kitty stopped cold as one of the men became too forceful with one of the women.

Forgetting for a moment that she should not intervene, Kitty aimed for the balcony, but Harrison stopped her with a gentle tug.

“Kat, we have to get the will,” he reminded her, capturing her attention once more.

Taking one last long glance at the balcony, she centered herself, deciding that the best way to save her employees from such behavior depended on locating Jacques’ will and ending Pierre Delcour’s reign at Pleasure House forever.

She tugged the worn cap on top of her head down, trying to conceal her signature curls. Not many ladies were of African descent with a head full of long dark curls, not even at Pleasure House. If Kitty intended to be able to enter and leave without being seen, a heavy disguise was her only option.

When she reached the heavy door of the servant’s entrance, Kitty inhaled deeply, the crisp cool air centering her. Everything depended on finding Jacques’s will. If it wasn’t behind the painting that he treasured almost as much as himself, then all would be lost.

The door opened with a smooth turn of the handle, warm air greeting her. The first thing that caught her attention was the lack of servants in the kitchens and the halls.

Where was everyone?

She’d only been gone four days, and the amount of damage that Pierre had caused would take Kitty weeks to reverse.

Before they could step further down the long hallway that led to the servant stairs, the cook, Mrs. Pennyloaf, came bustling down the hall, her plump body moving like a woman twenty years younger. A young maid ran to keep pace behind her. “Tis unheard of working in such condition, no staff. Two maids. Girls meant to have two or three men in one night. No seamstress on staff! Madame would have never allowed such things,” she said in a thick Scottish accent. “Oh, who are ye two?” she asked, head swiveling between Harrison and Kitty.

The motherly woman peered at Kitty, taking a step closer to her.

Kitty removed her hat. “Hello, Mrs. Pennyloaf?—”

“Madame! I knew ye’d return, lass. It’s been hell without ye.” She grasped Kitty’s hand in hers, squeezing it tight.

Placing her hand on top of the woman’s much smaller one, Kitty gave it two gentle pats. “I know, Mrs. Pennyloaf, and I promise I am doing everything in my power to prove that I am the rightful owner of Pleasure House.”

“I know ye are.” She nodded, her white head bobbing up and down.

“We have to go, but you mustn’t tell anyone we’re here,” Kitty pleaded, tilting her head toward Harrison.

Kitty placed her hat back on her full mane of hair, tucking it under the small cap.

“Of course, Madame, not a word,” the portly woman said vehemently. “And don’t ye worry, you can depend on wee Nellie too.”

“Thank you, both,” Kitty said, giving the older woman a quick hug before she continued on.

Harrison followed close behind her as she climbed the small set of stairs leading to the main floor.

“I’ll go first.” Harrison stopped her with a hand on her shoulders.

Speechless, Kitty gave her head a quick nod. Harrison had become more protective of her since her confession of love.

His offer to add a clause in the marriage contract whirled in her mind. Kitty had always believed that she would spend the rest of her life alone. Never did she imagine that Harrison, the boy she’d loved since she was a girl, would still love her after all this time. Even after the revelation of their son, Christopher.

The smile at the side of her lips was her constant companions.

“Is it clear? We should go left, then right, and that will lead us to the main hall.” She instructed cooly.

Every part of Pleasure House was engraved in her memory. She’d spent years becoming a newer, stronger version of herself in those old halls.

Entwining her fingers with his, Kitty happily followed as Harrison led her down the hall.

Finally, everything in her life seemed to be within her grasp, all she needed was to find Jacques’s will.

The first hall rendered their path free, but the second one had occupants. A couple that were not Pleasure House workers, were wrapped in an intimate embrace. Harrison stumbled in front of Kitty, causing her to slam into his back, before he continued walking. The sounds of the couple’s bodies joining filled the hall along with the woman’s moans of pleasure.

Rage simmered in Kitty’s blood at what Pierre was doing to her precious reputation. She had impeccably chosen every member of Pleasure House, interviewing them personally. Kitty took great care in deciding who was worthy to interact with her employees.

When they reached the main hallway that led to her study, Kitty swallowed her nerves and fears that the will would not be behind the painting.

The sounds of drunkards filled the air. A sigh left her when she did not hear anything too untoward like a brawl. At least she took comfort in knowing that Siegfried would never allow such behavior. It didn’t matter that Pierre claimed to be the owner, she took comfort in knowing that the Pleasure House residents were loyal to her.

“I-if you gentlemen would like to return to the ballroom.” A nervous Lilias stood in a small alcove, two men blocking her in.

One of them grabbed her by the arm, forcefully pulling her body to his. His hands roamed her body uninvited. “I think we should all go up to one of those fancy rooms and get personally acquainted. Don’t you think so, Traverse?”

Traverse squeezed roughly at one of Lilias’s breasts. “I’d like that very much,” he drawled stepping closer to the woman.

“S-stop it,” Lilias said, swiping at his hand.

Having heard and seen enough, Kitty marched over to them. “Get your damn hands off her right now, gentlemen,” she demanded.

Kitty didn’t give a damn that she wasn’t dressed in her expensive gowns or that technically she shouldn’t be in Pleasure House. She wouldn’t just allow such filth to do anything they wanted to Lilias. It didn’t matter that the two women often disagreed. The other woman had been there for Kitty when she’d needed her, and Kitty would never forget.

“Get your damn hands off her and remove yourselves from this establishment,” Kitty said.

She didn’t care if doing such a thing would reveal her, she couldn’t allow anyone to succumb to violence, especially not Lilias.

“You can join in the fun if you’d like,” the one closer to Kitty spewed out.

“You heard her, release the woman.” Harrison stood in front of Kitty, officially standing toe to toe with the men.

“Do we have a problem here?” Siegfried asked, practically marching down the long hall.

His stern wide gaze crashed into Kitty’s. “Yes, these gentlemen were just leaving,” she said, feeling the power spread through her bones.

The past four days had temporarily made her forget her responsibilities, but being back at Pleasure House revived her anew.

“Wait a damn minute, you’re not supposed to be here,” the one named Traverse said pointing to Kitty. “Delcour is the owner now. Does he have you on your back too? I’ll pay good money for you?—”

Shocking Kitty, Harrison pulled the man up by his lapels. “Watch your fucking tongue,” he sneered.

“Escort these two gentlemen out,” Siegfried instructed two members of his security, as he grabbed both men by the back of their tailcoats.

Once the men were safely away, Lilias relaxed against the wall. “Thank you, Madame,” she whispered her gaze downtrodden. “I know I haven’t been kind to you.”

Kitty shook her head, her cap falling to the floor, unable to stay on top of her head. “You have been kind to me when I needed you most, that is all that matters.”

“Madame, what are you two doing here? You must go before Delcour sees you.” Siegfried stood in front of her, peering over his shoulder making sure that Pierre was not around.

Thankful for his loyalty towards her, and Lilias’ kind words, Kitty gave Siegfried a small smile. She couldn’t leave Pleasure House without Jacques’s will. The longer Delcour stayed at Pleasure House, the more damage he would surely cause. Kitty could not allow such a man to ruin everything she’d built with her bare hands.

“No. It’s imperative that I go to my study. There is something there that will prove that I am the rightful owner of Pleasure House.” Kitty took several deep breaths, looking up and down the hall.

“I’ll take you there.” Lilias stepped forward. “You were right. I don’t like it when men run Pleasure House. You are the rightful owner, and I’ll do anything to help you.”

Siegfried pointed at Lilias. “You help Madame. I’ll make sure that Delcour stays occupied.”

“Occupied?” Kitty asked in shock.

Lilias laughed. “Yes, apparently some things do run in families. His appetite for whoring is very much similar to Jacques’s.” She peered down the hall, ensuring that no one was in the vicinity.

A part of her was ecstatic that Pierre had been occupied, however if she received word that he’d harmed any of her workers, he would pay greatly.

“How much time can we have?” Harrison asked.

“No more than fifteen minutes. I believe he’s been meeting men in the study regularly to take payments?—”

“Payments for what, exactly?” Kitty asked, wanting to know everything Pierre had done to her precious establishment.

At this rate, she’d be cleaning up his mess for decades.

“He’s selling ladies for particular services. Blackwood was so outraged that he dragged Alice out and said she would not return until you were back,” Lilias said before she began walking down the hall.

Dear God, it was a disaster.

“This ends tonight.” Kitty placed her hat back on.

She couldn’t leave Pierre there any longer. The man was a menace and had set out to destroy everything that she cared for.

Siegfried parted ways with them, sliding into the ballroom. The doors were opened, revealing the debauchery going on inside.

People were undressed and engaged in lewd acts. Rowdy drunkards tripped over each other, and she could see men gambling around tables.

Gambling? She’d never allow such a thing.

Ignoring the scene in front of her, Kitty followed behind Lilias, exhaling when they turned down the hall to her study.

“Go, I’ll stand watch,” Lilias said peering around the empty hall.

Taking the other woman by the hand, Kitty squeezed. “Thank you, Lilias, for everything.”

Harrison passed her, slowly opening her office door and peering inside. “It’s clear.”

Once inside, Kitty closed the door. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. The office was in complete shambles, papers flung to the floor, books off the shelves.

“He was looking for something,” Kitty said, as she ran to the hideous painting on the wall.

“The will. He knows he has no claim to this place.” Harrison joined her in front of the painting, staring up at it. “It’s hideous.”

Kitty laughed, pressing her hand over her mouth so that they wouldn’t make too much noise. The amateur painting done by Jacques’ mother, hung exactly where Kitty had left it for years. Jacques never made a request of her, but having her promise to never part with the painting had always felt strange to Kitty. She hoped that her inclination was right.

Harrison lifted the painting off the wall before he placed it on the wooden desk. The back of the painting was covered with fabric.

Kitty shoulders sagged, dread climbing up her spine.

No. This could not be happening.

Before she could flee the room, Harrison pulled at the fabric with his bare hands. The sound of it ripping sang through the study.

“Harrison, what are you doing?—”

Her words became stuck in her throat, as a heavy envelope laid against the back of the painting.

“Oh God!” Kitty reached in, taking out the envelope.

Her name was scrawled in Jacques untidy handwriting.

“Open it,” Harrison instructed her.

With shaky hands, Kitty opened the envelope that was marked with Jacques’s seal. Pulling out a stack of parchment, she opened it, her greedy eyes reading every word.

“This is it, Harrison!” She gave him the papers.

Tears of joy ran down her cheeks, happiness filling her. All she’d wanted the last four days was proof that Pleasure House belonged to her. Now that joy was covered in sadness at the thought that she would have to leave Harrison.

“I’m happy for you, Kat.” Pulling her close, he kissed the top of her head.

Her fingers gripped his waistcoat, dragging him down to her.

Pressing her lips to his, Kitty savored his mouth, wishing for more time with him.

Wishing for forever.

“Thank you for everything, Harrison.” She rubbed the slight stubble that had grown on his smooth skin.

“You know, you can always depend on me.” The intensity in green eyes stole her breath away.

Before she could say anything, the door opened, Lilias rushing in.

“You have to go.”

Harrison passed Kitty the will and she squeezed it to her chest before following Lilias out of the study.

They did it.

Finding Jacques’s will meant everything to Kitty. She could return home, to her life, her business, everything would return to normal …

A rock settled at the pit of her abdomen at what normal was like for her and Harrison. For a year, she had attempted to keep distance between them. Kitty had foolishly thought that not allowing a physical relationship with Harrison could save her from heartache. She soon learned that the real heart ache would be losing him.

A life without Harrison was no longer an option for Kitty. Spending the rest of her life wrapped in his arms, reminiscing on their childhood and the memory of their son was now the future she envisioned. Going back to the way they were wasn’t an option for Kitty. She didn’t want indifference and stolen kisses.

No, Kitty craved nights filled with lovemaking, kissing for hours, her fingers in his hair. The rightness of everything filled her, and in that moment all she wanted was …

Forever.

For years, Pleasure House was the only home she’d known, but now she had a new home with Harrison.

Harrison Christopher Montlake was her true home. That simple realization caused her to trip over her own feet.

“Are you well?” he asked, steadying her.

Kitty placed her hand on his. She had so much she wanted to say to him, but it could wait until they were safely out of Pleasure House.

“I am now.” A wide smile split across her face.

Happiness.

It had always been fleeting. After her family had disowned her and she had lost the man she loved, and then her precious child, Kitty hadn’t thought she would ever obtain happiness.

But now it lived inside of her, threatening to burst her from within.

Real Happiness. Not the temporary, kind she’d had the past eight years. Yes, working made Kitty happy, but it didn’t take the sadness a way. It filled a void inside of her, yet left a gaping empty hole that always felt incomplete … until she’d spent four glorious days with Harrison.

“I want her out right now!” Pierre shouted, marching down the hall shirtless, his breeches hung low on his thin, pale body.

Kitty’s security team followed by Woodson and Belville, came up behind Pierre. Siegfried stood sentry to his right, raising one bushy eyebrow at her.

Kitty gave him a slight nod, their customary communication during the evening activities whenever she needed someone removed.

“Good evening, Pierre,” Kitty said, removing her hat from her head with one hand. The will gripped in her other.

Her curls shook against her shoulder, and she stood taller facing the man who had set out to destroy her.

Pierre, took several steps toward Kitty. “You’re trespassing, dear sister?—”

Kitty leaned forward like a child on St. Nicholas Day. “I’m not your sister, and I’m afraid that you are the one trespassing, Pierre.” She held up the envelope that had the will in it.

“What is that?” his voice had no trace of humor as he reached for the envelope.

Harrison stopped his hand, grabbing Pierre by the wrist. “That is the reason why you’re packing your things tonight and leaving here,” Harrison said, bouncing in his boots.

Pierre snatched his arm out of Harrison’s hold.

“This is Jacques’s will, stating very clearly that in the event of his death, I am to be the sole owner of Pleasure House. It is signed and dated by him and his solicitor.”

“Impossible.” He raised his voice, his gaze darting around the room. “I am the rightful owner.”

Kitty shook her head before her gaze landed on the barely dressed judges of the Court of Chancery. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Belville, but if I am in possession of my late husband’s will that proves I am the rightful owner, then the court has no choice but to rule in my favor?” Kitty asked, tapping her chin with the envelope.

Around her, other occupants of Pleasure House joined them in the hall. Their collective gasps and sounds of joy were music to Kitty’s ears.

It was over.

Belville began buttoning his shirt, which hung vicariously off his large form. “Y-yes, if it is a legal and binding document, of course the court would have no choice.”

“Now see here, Belville!” Pierre shouted rushing over to the man. “We had a deal?—”

“Unfortunately, Delcour, a will changes everything. You assured us that one did not exist,” Woodson said, pointing a finger at Pierre.

“Siegfried, please escort Mr. Delcour and his guests out of Pleasure House,” Kitty said, folding her arms over her chest.

She bounced up and down, the will clutched to her chest. A few victorious tears fell down her cheeks, her face straining from the broad smile on her lips.

“Right away Madame,” Siegfried agreed, taking hold of Pierre.

“This should be mine! My fool of a brother was never meant to marry!” Pierre shouted as Siegfried dragged him out.

Kitty’s head swept around, searching for the familiar green eyes she loved. However, before she could reach Harrison, she was swarmed by the Pleasure House occupants.

Kitty was hugged and kissed repeatedly, passed from one person to another. At some point, she lost Harrison in the throng of workers celebrating that she had returned.

The security team had removed all guests from the premises. The occupants of Pleasure House gathered in the ballroom with wine to celebrate.

“Lass, I’m so glad ye found what you needed. I never doubted!” Mrs. Pennyloaf cried pulling Kitty into a warm, motherly hug.

“Thank you, Mrs. Pennyloaf. Please contact those who were let go and have them return to work,” Kitty instructed.

She was aware that a closer look was needed to really assess the damages Pierre had caused, but all of that would have to wait.

Kitty twirled around in circles, searching for the familiar red hair, but did not find Harrison anywhere among the celebratory crowed.

“Should we send servants to get Jenny and your belongings from Hendershot’s?” Lilias asked, standing beside Siegfried.

“M-my belongings?” Kitty asked in confusion.

“Yes, you are returning to Pleasure House, aren’t you Madame?” Siegfried asked her, waiting patiently for her answer.

Kitty searched again for Harrison’s tall form, but she could not find him anywhere.

He was gone.

Harrison sat in his study; the ledgers opened. It seemed the logical thing for him to do in order to forget the past four days. The most glorious four days of his life.

No matter how much he told himself that things had changed between them, the reality was vastly different. Kat had always been an independent woman, and that was one of the many things Harrison loved most about her.

Kat didn’t have to marry him for them to have a life together. Or so he kept telling himself, but Harrison couldn’t fight the feeling that he’d lost her all over again.

He’d fled Pleasure House to spare himself the heartbreak, but now Harrison felt like a coward. How could he run away from the woman he loved to spare his own feelings?

Standing, he decided to rush back to Pleasure House and stand by her side until she dismissed him.

“Is this how you treat a lady, sneaking away in the middle of the night?” Kat stood at the door of his study, her thick wool cloak covered in fresh snow.

“Kat, I was going to return to Pleasure House,” Harrison said, watching as she strolled into the room.

Kat removed her cloak to reveal that she was still dressed in his trousers and shirt.

Bloody Hell.

Harrison groaned at the way her hips swayed with her movements.

Why don’t women wear breeches all the time?

“You left,” she said, sliding into the small space between him and the desk.

She pushed him down. Harrison fell unceremoniously in the chair. Kat sat down on his lap, one arm draping around his neck.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to break my heart all over again, but then I realized that it didn’t matter anymore.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Her plump rump sat on his hardening member, making it impossible for him to speak.

Kat ran her fingers through his hair. “Why doesn’t it matter?” she whispered.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’ll gladly accept whatever you are willing to give me and will cherish every moment with you because I love you, Kat.” He slanted his lips over hers, tasting and savoring.

“Good, because I love you, too.” She kissed him again.

Harrison’s hands roamed her body, her curves calling to him like a siren. “Do you have to return to Pleasure House tonight?” he asked, kissing a path down her neck.

The thought of her leaving made him ill, but Harrison ignored it, happy to embrace their new closeness.

“No, I won’t be returning to Pleasure House tonight ...” She trailed off as she leaned on the desk, flipping through the pages of one ledger.

Harrison smiled, happy that he’d have one more night with her in his arms, his bed.

“I was trying to distract myself with the ledgers, but you know numbers have never been my strength.” He unbuttoned the flaps of her breeches, pulling the long shirt free.

“I can go through them tomorrow and make a list of where we can begin cutting costs and spending,” Kat said, turning more pages.

We?

Hope sprang anew, but Harrison did not want to be too optimistic. “Will you not return to Pleasure House tomorrow?”

She leaned back against his chest, peering over her shoulder at him. Her hazel eyes dazzled in the candlelit room.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it is customary for a wife to stay with her husband, is it not?” she asked, rotating her body fully on his.

Harrison tried to reply. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly until some semblance of awareness returned to him.

“If that was a proposal, it was quite lacking,” he teased her, grasping the nape of her neck and dragging her closer.

“Do you think you can do better?” she rubbed her nose against his.

“Katherine Elizabeth Smith,” he said her full name, his gaze roaming her beautiful face. “Will you allow me the pleasure of standing beside you as your equal and your husband for as long as we live?”

He waited for her answer, his leg bouncing up and down, hands sweating.

Kat leaned forward, holding him captive with her gaze the way she’d always done since the moment they’d met.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said, pressing her lips to his, her hand cupping his cheek. “I can’t think of anything better than spending forever as your wife.”

Harrison stood with her in his arms, never taking his lips away from hers. As he walked them through the quiet townhouse, he couldn’t think of a more perfect Christmas gift than the woman in his arms.

As Harrison laid Kat on his bed, his long body hovering over hers, their fingers entwined, he couldn’t help but remember all the years they’d spent apart. It didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that she was his and he was hers.

“Our forever begins now,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to hers.