“Are you unhappy here?” she asked gently.
“No.” Lucy smoothed down her skirts. “This situation is much better than what I grew up in, and I’m very grateful. But I’d like a husband. A family. And I don’t know any man who’d be happy with his girl doing this. At least, no man I’d want.”
“Well”—Colleen pulled a ledger from a shelf over the desk—“if you’d rather spend tonight tallying our kitchen’s inventory and figuring out what we need to order for next week, the job is yours. But we won’t be reordering from our wine supplier.” She frowned. “I need to find a new one.”
Opening the ledger, Lucy ran her index finger down the column of numbers. “Why? Mr. Landry has sold to us for years.”
“Well, he’s either been cheating you for years or decided to try his tricks with a new manager, thinking I wouldn’t get wise to his deception.” Colleen’s conversation with the man still left her unsettled. He’d been patronizing and ingratiating in equal measure and completely shocked when she’d shown him the door. Irritating man. “I discovered the wine he’d delivered had been watered down.”
“Huh.” Lucy bit the inside of her cheek and stared into space.
“What?”
She shook herself. “Nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“But …?” Colleen shut the door, needing to suck in her stomach as she squeezed it past her body and a cabinet. “My assistant manager needs to keep me apprised on what happens in the club, even if it is only suspicions.”
“I saw Molly leading Mr. Landry to one of the back rooms a couple of weeks ago.” Lucy shrugged. “I would have thought that with the money we pay him, plus the added incentive of Molly’s company, that he would have taken extra care to treat The Black Rose well. I’m surprised is all.” Sniffing, she perched on the upside-down amphora they used as a stool and moved a candle closer to the ledger on the desk. “I shouldn’t be surprised, however. Greed knows no limits.”
Colleen’s stomach churned. “Very true.” Certainly, her greed hadn’t. Her greed hadn’t been for more money or a better life than the common Cit. But she’d been greedy, nonetheless. She’d been tired of the sterility of the clock shop, of her marriage, and desperate for change. She’d prayed for change. Begged God for it.
And he’d punished her for her dissatisfaction by giving her what she’d asked for.
She’d stared at her home as it was being devoured by fire, and she’d thought that her husband would now have to change his mind. That he would want to run the flower shop with her. Escape from the gears and springs, from the endless ticking of a hundred clocks. She’d stared at her life as it burned, and she’d been happy.
She’d been happy until it had been hours and her husband still hadn’t returned home. Until the next day when she’d been told his body had been found in their bed. When she’d realized that her carelessness hadn’t been a gift from Heaven but retribution.
And when Max had pressed her into service at The Black Rose, she’d thought it naught but further punishment. That it was her lot to be surrounded by depravity and immorality.
Lucy scratched her head with the tip of a bit of lead as she examined the ledger, her face alight. Colleen watched her, her throat tight. She’d judged Lucy unfairly for her profession. But the girls here were supporting themselves in honest work. A simple business transaction where no one was hurt. If her cousin hadn’t taken her in after the fire, if Max hadn’t given her this job, what depths would she have sunk to survive? Colleen wasn’t fit to judge anyone.
“Lucy …” She hesitated. “How did you get involved in this? You’re smart, sensible. Surely there were other options.”
Lucy looked up and blinked. “Other options? Maybe. But at fifteen I couldn’t think of any. It was either this or starve. And I didn’t want to starve.”
Grasping her hands together behind her, Colleen leaned back against the door. “Of course not. But … you seem so happy. Isn’t it difficult, what you do? I mean, with how society views the profession, isn’t it hard to, I don’t know, to face yourself in the mirror each day?” She was fumbling for the right words, but it seemed important that she know. At some point these women had taken an irrevocable step across a line society drew, yet they all managed to laugh and find joy in their lives. Colleen had done worse. It had been an accident, but worse just the same. If these women could find peace with their actions, mayhap Colleen could move past her guilt, too.
Lucy carefully closed the ledger and put her elbows on the table. “My first time, I worked at another house, nowhere near as grand as this. There, you were lucky to have clean sheets on the bed each night. I cried after every man for three days.” She clenched her fists, her knuckles going white. “But at some point, you grow up. You can’t live life second-guessing your every move. Berating yourself over every mistake. And at the end of the day, you realize, it isn’t that big a deal. Just one body part slipping into another. If a man wants to pay for that, I’m happy to oblige him. And once you realize letting a man rut between your legs isn’t the be all end all that we’re raised to believe, it all becomes easier. Each man becomes easier. We all do what we have to survive. It’s not something I’m proud of or ashamed of. It just is.”
Colleen nodded slowly. Lucy had always seemed young. All the girls did. But they weren’t girls. They were women, probably just a year or two shy of Colleen’s age. And Lucy had experiences and wisdom Colleen couldn’t match. Perhaps instead of giving the orders all the time, Colleen should listen a little more. She might learn something.
“Thank you for your candor.” Colleen fingered the chain of her pocket watch. Her last link to her past. “I’ll tell the other women to arrange the schedule without you tonight. Let me know if you have any questions.” She slid out the door, closing it softly behind her.
Her mind a muddle, she plodded to the main room. One of the candles in the large chandelier was out, but she didn’t think anyone else would notice. Everyone else’s attention was on seeking joy. Pleasure. She’d had a brief glimpse into that world, reached unbearable heights, but once again she was a spectator looking in. It didn’t matter that it had been of her own choosing in order to save Max and herself from certain heartache. Colleen had never felt more alone.
A glass of champagne was lifted to her face. Colleen blinked, and the face of Lord Halliwell came into focus behind the glass. He pressed it into her hand. “You look like you need this, my dear. Are the books not balancing tonight?”
She sniffed at her glass, and tiny bubbles tickled her nose. What the hell? She tossed it back. “Not everything is about numbers for me, my lord.” Rolling her head, she tried to loosen the knot that had taken up residence where neck met back. “I hope you are having a pleasant evening?”
“It could be better.” He snagged another flute from a passing serving girl and handed it to Colleen. “The number one attraction to this club has so far been out of my reach.”
She frowned down at her glass. Men. Hoping to use alcohol to do the persuading for them. She wasn’t the sort to drown her troubles. Drinking to excess only led to more problems. If she was going to make a mistake, she would do it sober.
But another tiny sip wouldn’t hurt.
“The Black Rose has many attractions more alluring than me.” She looked up at the earl. “I think you persist in your pursuit only for the challenge I present.”
“Perhaps.” Swirling an amber liquid around in his snifter, Halliwell shrugged. “But I must confess that your natural authority appeals to me much more than a performance put on by a doxy. Is that so wrong?” He stared at the floor, the tips of his ears turning red. “Do you find my interests so repellent?”
