“Baroness, I disagree entirely with what you say. Those so-called distinctions fade even as we speak.” Jack swirled the whiskey in his glass, casting an aside to Stefano. “I say, old chap, this is a fine scotch, is it not?” He winked at Colin. “Our good-old-boy’s days are numbered, I fear. Do you not agree, Remington?” Jack rather liked what he’d seen so far of the marquess, but conversations such as these tended to bring forth truths about a person that in daily discourse would not be seen. Remington appeared to be a gentleman’s gentleman and a straight shooter, but one never knew.
“The scotch is smooth as silk. The conversation is bloody good, too, even though I sense a barb or two here and there.” Colin’s eyes gleamed as he exchanged a look with his wife. He finished his scotch, setting the glass on the table. “I do believe you are right; vast changes are coming. And the march of time will stop for no one. I do not believe we will ever return to the old rules anytime soon, and I, for one, will not be sorry.”
“Well, despite how good the scotch is, our little recital will begin soon.” Aunt Kitty gave Jack a look. “Slow down, Jack, or that cello of yours will make a complete fool of you.” She gestured to Antonio, who’d just entered the room. The butler bent and whispered in her ear. She nodded and whispered something back, and a sparkle lit her eyes. She was up to something; Jack was sure of it.
Emily picked up the thread of the conversation. “In answer to your question, Lady Darling, the play is about the relationship between a mother and daughter, but not your average mother and daughter. Mrs. Warren, Shaw’s heroine, is the owner of a chain of brothels across Europe. At one time, she supported herself as a prostitute, but eventually, she managed to save up and buy into the brothels and raise herself from the streets to the upper class. Her daughter Vivie has just graduated from Cambridge with honors. I remind you although female students are allowed to attend lectures and sit for exams, they are still, to this day, prohibited from obtaining a degree. A deplorable situation, which, no doubt, must change.
“In the play, the mother and daughter are only beginning to know each other, which turns into a rather complex situation when Vivie learns her mother put her through Cambridge by earning her living as a prostitute. But what mortifies Vivie even more is her mother not only doesn’t regret her vocation but chooses to continue to run her business. Despite her accumulated wealth, she has no compunction or remorse for her part in bettering herself by enslaving women in the same position as she herself was held captive.
“I found Shaw’s play utterly spot-on. Shaw shines a light on the untruths perpetuated by society—that women who turn to prostitution as a profession are not only lacking in character but born depraved, so they get exactly what they deserve. Shaw reveals it for the lie it is. He lays the blame on a societal system that deprives them of other ways to feed, house, and clothe themselves. In other words, they are forced into prostitution by a society that turns a blind eye and is complicit in their disgrace.”
“Bravo, darling. Mr. Shaw would be proud to know his message was heard loud and clear,” Colin proclaimed.
The obvious affection between the two felt like a punch to Jack’s ribs, reminding him of Gaby’s rejection. Because of the interaction he’d observed between Emily and Gaby, he paid more attention to Emily’s words. How did they know each other? He suspected the Remingtons’ visit was no coincidence, either.
Chief Inspector Xavier Doumaz, who thus far had said little during the dinner conversation, added, “In France, attitudes are not dissimilar, and many women are driven to sell their bodies. Fortune has smiled on some of these women, blessing them with beauty, brains, and a witty tongue, giving them entree as consorts of illustrious men who keep and care for them in a princely manner.”
“Mais, oui, mon amour, it is a deplorable situation, but it is changing thanks to enlightened men like you who understand a woman’s worth is equal to a man’s.” Jenee leaned in and planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek.
Jack observed that Doumaz, like Remington, was thoroughly besotted with his wife. And their wives were thoroughly besotted with them. The Frenchman held the hand of his beautiful, exotic wife, Jenee, who looked at him with such adoration and devotion that Jack felt another prick of jealousy. These happy couples were negating his theory about the impossibility of a happy marriage. The obvious affection these couples felt for each other disrupted his entire belief system. He’d never considered love a possibility in his life and was beginning to feel the deprivation.
“In a different world, these flowers would pursue other vocations and climb the ladder of success with their achievements and not their bodies,” the inspector went on. “Their merit would be determined by their talents and their efforts. I had such a friend. Unfortunately, she fell prey to a monster and met her demise.”
Jack could not help but observe Cynthia’s reaction to the discussion. She looked positively scandalized, while the baroness seemed to scrutinize the chief inspector, her lips in a severe grimace.
“How tragic,” sympathized Aunt Kitty.
Constance and her companion Blossom both nodded in agreement. Jack’s curiosity turned into a profound respect for how the American carried herself. Her neck was roped in lustrous white pearls, and she was glamorously attired in a forest-green velvet gown. Jack found her lyrical Bostonian accent entertaining. He knew in the United States, women could inherit their husband, father, or mother’s estates, even though they might be passed over when it came to running the family business.
Constance glanced at each of the women in the room. “We women who have been gifted a privileged life can change society and the world. Emily, you do it daily with the articles and essays you write urging for improving women’s rights and, hopefully, the right to vote one day. Jenee, you persevered against all odds to become a physician and even now face tremendous prejudice and opposition to practicing your skill. Yet you fight to provide care for indigent women. As for you, my dearest Blossom, no one has surmounted more evil intentions than you. Yet your kindness and empathy never cease to amaze me.” Constance raised her glass in a toast. “Thank you, Lady Darling, for welcoming us into your home and providing a magnificent landscape for us to unite. I am delighted to add you to my circle of friends and admired women.”
Kitty looked pleased as punch. “Thank you so much, Constance. I am honored to meet accomplished women who will lead the way into this new century.”
The door opened, and Gaby walked in, drawing everyone’s attention. Jack sat up straight and had to consciously stop his jaw from dropping. Whenever he looked at Gaby, his world shifted, and he lost control over his senses. He recognized the gown Gaby wore—a sheer forest-green bodice with a plunging neckline that sported one of the newer, more formfitting silhouettes in crimped silk. But it looked completely different on Gaby. The way the silk clung to her curves made the blood rush to his ears.
He couldn’t help noticing the hum of excitement from Emily and Jenee, who exchanged glances with each other and their husbands. Aunt Kitty, for her part, looked like the cat who’d swallowed the canary. Of course, his dear aunt had orchestrated Gaby’s appearance. Aunt Kitty, his most loyal advocate, was taunting and prodding him. But why? She, better than anyone, understood his predicament.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he turned and caught the baroness’s narrow-eyed glare.Bloody great!She, unlike Kitty, bore a readable expression that made his skin crawl. The baroness was not his advocate, although she’d been instrumental in bringing her niece and him together. Had she guessed his attraction to Gabriella?
But what was the baroness’s purpose? He understood she wanted her niece to add an impressive title to her name, but with the wealth she was purported to have, surely there were many titled gentlemen with empty pockets who would be thrilled to step into the role of future husband to the young heiress. Cynthia was beautiful and rich, making her a highly desirable commodity.
So, what did the baroness think to gain from their union? There had to be another reason. Yet another question to add to the pile in his brain.
But the greatest mystery of all was Gabriella D’Angelo. Whenever he saw her, it was all he could do to restrain himself from throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to his bed. His gut instinct told him that both Emily and Jenee knew exactly who Gabriella was and why she was there.
Gaby’s gaze met his from across the room, and he couldn’t help the thundering of his heart.Who are you, and why can’t I get you out of my mind?
Chapter Seventeen
Maremma, Italy
October 19, 1902
Jack frowned intohis glass of scotch. After being introduced formally to everyone, Gaby was seated next to Stefano, who immediately engaged her in conversation. They spoke Italian, and Jack did his best to eavesdrop without seeming obvious. He had trouble hiding his consternation when Stefano openly flirted with Gaby.Damn that wily Italian Don Juan.When Stefano’s shoulder brushed against hers, Jack was tempted to grab him by the neck, wrestle him to the floor, and give him what for.
The green gown made Gaby’s hazel eyes sparkle like emeralds. He was sure Aunt Kitty had chosen the dress knowing it changed the kitchen goddess into a full-blown seductress equal to Venus. She must have asked Mrs. Livingstone to alter it, because the low neckline resembled Emily and Jenee’s gowns.
Jack cursed the cool breeze coming in through the open French doors that made Gaby’s nipples visible through the translucent fabric of the empire gown.Damn!He’d tasted her magnificent buds. Now, he could only think about his tongue flicking her nipples, his teeth nipping and tugging, making her moan and writhe beneath him. His pants grew suddenly so tight and his staff so stiff that it was a wonder it didn’t poke through the napkin on his lap and join in the after-dinner conversation.
