“The fire at Lux estate when I was a boy was set deliberately,” he said.
He turned his heart to stone and offered up himself as a sacrifice to hell, knowing heaven would never take him.
“Ikilled my parents.”
*
“I’m sending youon an errand.” Madam handed Camille an embossed envelope from behind her desk, her focus remaining on the stack of files in front of her. “You leave tomorrow.”
Camille opened the sleeve and pulled out an invitation, her name sweeping across the gold cardstock in black calligraphy. How official and proper her name looked. She could almost imagine it was an invitation to some grand ball, some debutante’s debut. A duke’s sister, perhaps. The invitation shook in her hand as an ache pulsed in her chest, knowing her name would never be proper.Shewould never be proper. Clenching her jaw, she noted the location of the party and looked up, brows drawn. “This is to an estate in the country.”
“Lord and Lady Quickner are patrons of the Pony, silent benefactors. I need you to retrieve this year’s contribution.”
“You want me to attend a garden party?” Camille glanced down at the details. “It starts tomorrow! Why not wait until the couple arrives in town?”
Madam’s normally direct gaze cast wide, seeming unable to meet Camille’s. “The viscount and viscountess enjoy their...privacyaway from town. They are unlikely to return anytime soon, and the club doesn’t run on credit.”
‘Privacy’ meant one thing: They enjoyed scandalous bed sport like the rest of the Pony’s patrons. Camille wouldn’t think of what kind they enjoyed if they needed to stay out of society to keep it quiet. “Wouldn’t it be less risky for me to wait until after their guests have departed?” Her brain lighted on the most likely scenario. “The guests are part of the cover.” She knew exactly what kind of bed sport the Quickners partook in.
“Very good, Angel.” Madam waved her off. “These are important clients; I expect civility and a respectful innocence on your part.”
“I’m not one of your Ponies. I’ve no intention of acting like anything I’m not.”
“You should learn.” Madam’s lecturing tone made its hourly appearance. “There are all kinds of ways to gain status and connections. Stubbornness and admirable scruples are one.” She inclined her head in acknowledgment of Camille’s character, but her expression was facetious. “’Course, you’ll find a module of flattery clears the field more readily than sharp observations.”
Camille shook her head. “This should wait until Victoria can go.”
“Why are you making excuses? This is a simple task, one you’ve done before.” Madam’s tone hardened. “Or is three days too much time away from a certain gentleman?”
Camille fought against another pang wrenching through her chest. She wouldn’t think of Renard. He’d turned out to be everything she thought he’d be.
Camille’s gaze narrowed. Her mind combined the other woman’s shifting gaze and impatient tone. “You’re separating us on purpose.Youwere the one who encouraged a liaison.”
“I did.”
Camille didn’t miss how Madam’s right hand stalled on flipping the new file open, only for her left hand to take over.
She must have known about their fight. Victoria needed only mention the Duke of Lux had left alone after their too-brief visit and the older woman would have connected the pieces together like a spider weaving her web. But that didn’t change the unlikely timing of this ‘errand.’ Suspicion laced her next words. “Something has happened.”
“You are paranoid.” Madam fanned out her fingers on one hand to admire her nails.
“And you’re a terrible liar.”
Madam grinned at that, finally looking Camille in the eye. “You are the only one who sees it.”
“You have a tell.” Camille nodded to the woman’s hand. “You fiddle with your left hand when you lie, never your right.”
Madam looked down at her offending hand on the surface of the desk and curled the fingers into a fist. She relaxed her fist and hid both hands in her skirts. “You are extraordinary, Angel.”
Camille didn’t take the compliment. “What has happened?” Her stomach soured. “Another body?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. Sit down,” Madam said. “You look pale as death.”
Camille was relieved to hear of no more bodies in the streets, but she sat anyway, her feet swollen and her energy waning of late as her body refused anything except water for the baby growing in her womb.Anothertopic she loathed to discuss with the woman sitting across from her.
In due time, she told herself. While her baggy and shapeless dresses could hide her condition, she’d continue as if nothing had changed. She’d work for what needed doing up until the moment of birth. Gaining donations, renting suitable apartments, calling in favors... If she worked hard and was uncharacteristically lucky, Camille would be the first to person to benefit from the generosity of Miss Forthright’s House for Female Companions. If she had to use Madam’s alleged ledger of secrets to blackmail every sick bastard who darkened the Pony’s door, she’d do it. For her baby, she’d do anything.
And to do that, she needed to keep Madam happy.
