Scarlet nodded and slid her a shot across the bar. “Then you have my pity.”
*
Camille didn’t knock.Slipping the chain from around her neck, she placed her key in the Prodding Pony door’s lock and let herself in.
The smell greeted her first. A mixture of lavender and rose perfume the girls had taken to wearing to mask the smell of the streets outside. Then came the two stairs to the right leading up to Madam’s office, the wooden boards scrubbed clean every morning to bring out the faces in the grain. Then stood the door, a simple wood that looked forbidding and authoritative despite its bright-red color.
This time, Camilledidknock, and the sharp sound of her knuckles against the wood sounded like logs snapping in the fire.
“Enter!”
Camille steeled herself against the tone of Madam’s command. She took a steadying breath and opened the door to find the woman seated at her desk as always, her mushed hair and ruined paint the same.
Madam’s concentration stayed on the file before her, identical to every other in the growingsixstacks on her desk and overflowing off the chairs.
“Leave your report on the floor or wherever you find space,” she ordered.
“Looks like a storm went through here.”
Madam’s head shot up. Her gaze latched on Camille as if she and her voice were apparitions. But after a careful assessment of her person, the older woman leaned back in her chair with a lazy grin, the undisputed mistress of her kingdom once again. “You’ve returned, then? About time.” She glanced around the room. “Start anywhere, throw the reports in the fire, or out the window, for all I care!”
Camille didn’t smile. “Is that what it will take for you to forgive me?”
Madam straightened at that. “A spell in the good life and you’ve grown soft on me, Angel?”
“People don’t change that much,” Camille said. “But perspectives do.”
The things they’d discussed before she’d gone into hiding had been just words, but Madam’s offer to house the Duke and Duchess of Camine not three days ago after the marquess imposter had snuck onto Camine grounds and near drowned Charlotte had put those words into actions. Actions that might have saved both her brother’s and sister-in-law’s lives.
“For what you did for my brother and sister”—Camille bowed her head—“I am in your debt.”
“Enough of that!” Madam stood from the desk and crossed the room. “I owe you far more and we both know it. Besides”—she tapped a nail on her bottom lip in remembrance—“what fun they were. A fine pair. That duchess has fire. Her Grace, previously the Lady Charlotte Louis, if I’m not mistaken. The lady you wrote those letters to.” Madam gave her a nod of approval. “Well done.”
“You’re not going to scold me?”
“I’m not your mother.” Madam shuddered. “Good thing too. It’s a wonder you learned any compassion with that dragon blood in your veins. She’ll remain here, if you don’t mind? I’ve come too far breaking that beast for you to ruin my efforts with your coddling.”
Camille winced, unable to imagine her mother beyond anything but a broken shell. She’d been putting off the subject and her visit. “How is my mama—”
“That’s not what you wish to ask me.” Madam interrupted, giving her a knowing look.
Camille huffed a laugh, all pretenses dropping. “No, it’s not.”
“Well?”
Camille bit her lip. She’d be damned to hell for what came next, but there was no option. Not when she’d given up such things as innocence and purity when she’d given her heart to a devil. Gaze unwavering, she looked Madam in the eye and said, “I want your word you will tell no one of the duke’s secrets. Hisfate is to be left up to me and me alone. I’ll cash in every one of my favors if that’s what it will take to ensure your silence. I’ll owe you this time.”
Madam waved her plea away as if expecting it. “He found you, then?” The older woman sighed at Camille’s silent nod and turned back to her desk. “Keep the favors. I like having someone not owe me anything. The days would be unbearably dull without an equal.”
Camille held her breath. “And the duke?”
“His fate has always been in your hands, Angel. Damnation or salvation, you were aptly named.”
Her relief was a mix with befuddlement. “I don’t understand. You benefit off the secrets and predicaments of others. Your business depends on it, but you’ve never once held my own over my head. It defies logic.”
“Logic.” Madam chuckled. “My Angel, so clever and pure, still can’t see the truth.”
“Which is?”
