“What is your name, miss?” She reverted back to English.
“Charles Merrinan, ma’am.”
“That is not a woman’s name.” The lady pursed her lips, gesturing with her hand. “It must be something more . . . feminine.”
“Charlotte?” Charles proposed, wondering why her name should matter at all.
“Charlotte, yes, better.” The woman continued to stare. “Let down your hair, Charlotte.”
Which Charles did, perplexed.
“Very nice.” She nodded to herself. “There are gentlemen who seek this color you have. It is not so common.” The lady’s stare by now unnerved Charles. “Stand up and turn around. I wish to look at you.”
Charles again obeyed, though she was beginning to feel the lady’s scrutiny was not without reproof.
“Bien, bien, parfait.”Madamenodded to herself. “And you say you have experience serving gentlemen?”
“Yes,” Charles answered. “I was most recently housekeeper to a duke’s son, ma’am.”
“A duke?” Her face looked suddenly shrewd. “Which Duke, may I ask?”
“The Duke of Allendale’s son, Lord Wellesley, ma’am.” Charles decided there could be little harm in saying this, especially if it served as indirect reference.
“Lord Wellesley, eh?” The lady’s smile turned cat-like. “He is one of ourclients, you know.” She stressed the word in French, assessing Charles more keenly. “We were very sad to see him leave London.”
“I served him in Cumberland, ma’am,” Charles clarified.
“Hmm, yes.” The lady’s eyes bored into her. “No doubt he liked your hair, too.”
Charles felt suddenly uncomfortable. “Madam, may I ask what position you are considering me for?”
“Position?” The lady laughed. “What position do youthinkI am considering you for, miss?”
“If it is not that of shop girl then perhaps seamstress? Or maid?” Charles frowned. “I am good at bookkeeping too, ma’am.”
“My dear Charlotte.” The lady smirked. “I believe we were discussing how you serviced Lord Wells in bed, were we not?”
Charles knew at once she’d made a grievous error coming here. She hastily backed away from Madame LeBrecht, or whoever this woman was. “I am not . . . I can assure you, madam, I am not interested in serving gentlemen in the manner you assume. I believed you to mean I might be of service to them as purchasing clients only, here in your shop.”
“Ah but you would,chérie,” she replied smoothly. “You would work here in the shop, attending to customers, and if you caught the eye of a gentleman and he requested the pleasure of meeting you elsewhere, well, then perhaps you might service him further, for far better pay than the pennies you will earn selling garments here.” Her onyx eyes had become two sharp points.
“I see.” Charles steeled herself not to react. “And this would remain my choice, madam? I would not be forced into any situation I did not willingly choose to engage in?”
“Of course not.”Madamegave her a canny look. “It is a matter of honor, my dear, that allliaisonsbegun in my shop should be mutually beneficial and, of course, consensual.”
“Then I will take the position, madam, provided what you have told me is indeed true.”
“My dear Charlotte, with your looks and a little charm, you will soon find you have no need of a position here atLeBrecht’s. The gentlemen of theTonwill all be falling over themselves tokeep you as their mistress.” Her laugh tinkled like harsh, bright bells.
“I’ve no wish to become another man’s mistress.” Charles scowled.
“Did Wells mistreat you, Charlotte?”Madamelooked surprised. “I always found him to be a most generous lover, if not always the most gentle.” She grinned.
“You mean you were his mistress?” Charles felt her gut lurch.
“It wasverylong ago, miss.”Madame’ssmile was almost rueful. “He brought me to this country, you see, when I had nowhere else to go.”
Charles was stunned. “On his ship?”
