Maxey’s head throbbed as confusion filled her. Whom should she believe? Then again, her mother’s story did sound plausible. Maxey never understood why her mother had chosen to leave the family and run off with a wealthy man. Moreover, her father was very angry with his wife at first, and then heartache took over until he died.
Hearing her mother’s story now, it started to make sense. No wonder he had referred to Nora as “a harlot.”
Maxey covered her ears and closed her eyes. Pain burst in her chest, crumbling her defenses and making her ache even more. She wanted to rush to Nora and allow her mother to hold her as she used to a long time ago. Maxey wanted to return to yesteryear before her mother left…before Maxey’s life was ripped apart.
“I’ll give you some time to think,” Nora said. “I need to make certain our lunch is prepared, anyway.”
It wasn’t until the door shut that Maxey allowed the tears to come forth. She fell on the bed and cried.
Suddenly, two strong hands lifted her and pressed her against his solid chest. She breathed in Nash’s masculine scent and wrapped her arms around his waist. Together they lay on the bed. He stroked her hair as she sobbed into his shirt. His soothing touch calmed her, and soon she felt as weak as a newborn lamb.
Heaviness weighed her eyes, and she let sleep consume her.
*
The soft womanin Nash’s arms moved against him, bringing him awake and very alert. He pulled back enough to look at Maxey’s face. Her eyelids lazily fluttered open as she met his stare. Thankfully, the puffiness had disappeared. The poor darling had been through so much, and holding her was the way he could think to comfort her.
She smiled and snuggled closer. “Morning.”
“Good morning, my sweet.” He kissed her forehead. “How do you feel today?”
It obviously took a few moments before her memory returned, because soon her eyes clouded over with hurt and anger. She glanced around the room, and her smile turned into a scowl.
“Where are we?” She pushed away and sat up on her elbows. “We are still in my mother’s room?”
“Yes.”
“Where is my moth—um, Nora?”
“She slept in another room.”
Maxey cringed, and then quickly hopped off the bed. Swiping her hands up and down her arms, she shivered. “I can’t believe I slept inherbed, knowing she has donethosethings on this very mattress.”
Nash rolled to the side of the bed then stood. He stretched his cramped arms and legs before walking toward Maxey. “My sweet, let me tell you something I’m certain you don’t understand about this type of establishment.”
When he reached her, he cupped her chin, and her eyes met with his.
“Your mother is a madame, which means she does not sleep with men for money any longer.”
Maxey’s forehead creased. “Are you certain?”
He shrugged and pulled away. “From what I have seen from other places like this, that is the way it works. By the time a woman makes it to a madame, she doesn’t need to make a living in this way. This is now her business, and she runs it like the owner of any establishment would. Most women I have met who are like your mother are very professional.”
Maxey grumbled, turned away, and stormed to the window. “It doesn’t matter how professional my mother is. The fact remains she is still a woman of ill repute.”
Nash released a heavy sigh. Maxey hurt inside, and he didn’t know how to help. It was understandable she would be so upset over the news of her mother’s profession. He hoped she would soon soften her heart and find room to forgive.
He had known several harlots in the past few years, and they lived a very hard life. Women did not choose this lifestyle—they were forced into it, and once the deed was done, they didn’t feel worthy of a normal life. If only he could help Maxey see this. But now was not the time, and he couldn’t push her. Maxey’s wounds were still too fresh.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he stepped to the small washbasin on the oak drawers. Water had been added to the pitcher, probably when they were still asleep, so he poured a generous amount in the basin and splashed the cool liquid on his face. Washing his hair was important, but that might have to be put off for a while. He needed a bath, but that, too, would have to wait, at least until after he talked with Nora about their room and board.
He didn’t know how staying at a house of prostitution could be that safe. True, most men who came here were not looking for people on the run, so Nash might be safe for a few days, or even a week. Either way, he would keep a sharp eye on the men who frequented this place.
As he scrubbed his hands over his two-day-old beard, he looked in the mirror. Time to change his appearance again. While they stayed here, he couldn’t wear his fancy clothes or dress like he wanted. Instead, looking like a servant might work better. So, as much as Maxey had loved his clean-shaven face the other day, he would have to grow out his beard and have the scruffy look.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. She would have to change, too. He didn’t want her in a boy’s disguise, nor did he want her dressing like a harlot and having men think she would give them favors. That might cause a brawl, with Nash doing the punching. She would have to be a servant, just as he would.
It was better that way. They would both be able to get out of the house and walk around in peace, as long as he made certain his uncle’s men did not spot them. He didn’t need others to become curious, either.
