And for her part, Lady M does seem to be trying to acclimate herself to the club. She has begun dressing in less severe clothing,and though I still have yet to see her smile, she dotes on the girls in a way we haven’t experienced since we lost Diana.
But I can’t shake the memory of the way she looked at Andra, like my sister was something to devour. Something to bleed dry. No one else seems to share my trepidation—I’ve made small mentions to several of my closest friends that are quickly dismissed as ludicrous—but something is keeping me from fully trusting our new benefactress. I keep hoping that with time I will come to see the goodness the others see in her. So far, the only feeling she stirs in me is unease.
Perhaps it’s the way her golden eyes always seem to pierce right through me, as they do while I take my position in one of the chairs in front of the desk. My hands clasped in my lap, back straight, ankles crossed. When Lady M is present, I sit like a lady.
“You are looking well, Cate.” Harold begins with a warm smile on his face.
I force myself to return it, even though he has to realize mine is strained. “Thank you, Harold. You are looking well yourself. As is the club.” I tilt my head the slightest bit in Lady M’s direction, all the thanks I’m willing to offer, though I am happy to see fewer lines on Harold’s face. His smile genuine, his eyes brighter. Even his golden hair seems shinier.
“I’m happy you’ve noticed the improvements, Lady Caterine. They have certainly helped put La Puissance back on the right path.” Lady M’s voice is as cool as her eyes. She still doesn’t smile, but the corner of her mouth tilts up just a tad.
“And what path is that, my lady?” I place an emphasis on her title, one that, like mine, has been bestowed by herself, one that she insists everyone at the club continue to use.
“The path to prosperity. I expect great things are in store for everyone here at La Puissance.”
“Indeed.”
“You have been living here at the club for many years, correct, Caterine?” Lady M doesn’t give me a chance to answer. “And in that time, you have paid Lord MacVeigh a paltry sum to cover your living expenses.”
My eyes narrow. “I have contributed to the finances of the club in many ways, my lady. Including bringing in multiple loyal and dedicated patrons.”
“Patrons who also tend to pay a paltry sum.” She flips through her stack of papers.
I open my mouth to retort, but she cuts me off.
“Yes, you have several clients who are able to pay fully for your services, Lady Amanda for one. But you also see a number of clients who can barely afford to leave a single gold coin.”
I grit my teeth. “Those clients need my help even if they can’t afford to pay full price for it.”
“Hmm.” Lady M taps the end of her pointed nail on the desk. “So perhaps one of the reasons the club was struggling so much financially was because members like you were making full use of the club’s amenities while charging insufficient rates to cover the loss.”
I don’t respond to this remark because I don’t have a response. Working at La Puissance has never been about making money. Yes, there is money to be made, and several of the girls make plenty of it. But that has never been my aim, and no one has ever taken issue with that. We’ve always covered each other, found a natural balance that never needed to be questioned.
“There will be no more losses here at La Puissance, Caterine. This guarantees that.” Lady M slides a piece of paper across the desk.
I study the sheet of paper, the words blending together and blurring my eyes, my brain unable to parse the meaning. “What is this?”
“It’s a contract, Cate.” Harold chooses this moment to speak up. “It solidifies our partnership, the relationship between you and the club.”
“What does that mean?” I was unaware that after almost twenty years of living here our relationship needed to be further solidified.
“It means that you—and every one of the members of the club—are now responsible for bringing in a certain amount of revenue annually to offset the cost of your room and board, your place here at the club, and the protection we offer you.” Lady M folds her hands in her lap as her eyes bore into me, watching me try to make sense of the words and figures on the page.
“This says here that if I don’t meet my annual quota, the unpaid debt rolls over into the next year.” My chest clenches, and any sense of calm bestowed upon me by my session with Lady Amanda dissipates. “And if I don’t make my quota for two consecutive years, I may be asked to leave the club.”
“That’s correct.”
“But that means if I don’t make enough money this year, I start the next year already in the hole. Making it all but impossible to ever climb out of it.” My stomach starts to turn the more of this so-called contract I read. “And if I don’t find a way to make up the difference, I’m going to be forced to leave? To lose my sponsorship?”
“That won’t be an issue for you, darling. You’ll meet your quota in no time. People will be lining up to pay for your services, especially once you begin to advertise your Gift more widely.” Harold leans forward, his arms resting on the desk. “Besides, the Gifted laws will be rescinded before losing your sponsorship could even be an issue.”
I don’t bother to remind him that I don’t say yes to all prospective clients, depending on who they are and what they want from me. I also don’t advertise my Gift for a reason. To most, I’m just aprized courtesan of La Puissance, not a Gifted who can manipulate emotions. Clearly the way things used to be done no longer matters.
“And what if I refuse to sign this?” I can’t imagine a life without the club, but I also can’t imagine willingly handing over this amount of control to anyone—not even Harold.
“Then you will no longer have a home here.” Lady M’s cold eyes meet mine, a hint of a malicious spark in them, like she is daring me to take that option. “And that sponsorship you’re so afraid of losing in the future may become a real problem. It may take several months for the old ways to be fully erased from the law books. If you were to find yourself out on the street now, with no job and no man to vouch for you, I hate to think what might happen.”
Clearly Lady M knew about my Gift before this meeting. Harold told her, and if he told her about my Gift, it stands to reason she also knows about Andra’s. My stomach tumbles, thinking of our most precious secret in the hands of this woman who I know, deep down, cannot be trusted.
