The Lady and the Vixen Read online

  “Colby is in one of the high-stakes rooms where women are not allowed. To enter the game, the buy-in is fifty pounds. Once the doors are closed, no one can enter unless they’re willing to play or the players take a break. Every ninety minutes, they reopen the doors and invite new players in. Gilbert and Melton will take me to the room, but it means leaving you alone for a short time. I don’t want to do that but—”

  She patted his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. I can find a place to sit until you find Colby. You can meet me back here at the top of the hour.”

  “Are you sure? I hate to leave you alone. You can always come with us and wait out—”

  “I don’t want to bring attention to myself.” She gave him a bright smile. “I’ll just watch. It’s not like I’d be asked to dance anyway.”

  “Aw, Luce, don’t say that.” He squeezed her hand. “Any man would be honored to dance with you.”

  “Chase, we must hurry before they close the doors again. Kiss your lovely lady goodbye so we can go,” Melton said in a grating whine and chugged his drink.

  “Ignore those buffoons. I barely see them except here or at my gentlemen’s club.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Go find our boy so we can take him home.” She spotted a few vacant chairs at a table near the edge of the dance floor. “I’ll sit and wait for you and Colby to return.”

  “Good idea.” He led her to the table. With one last kiss on her cheek, he joined the two brothers. They bowed in her direction, spilling their drinks on the floor. She snickered and waved at the two men in farewell. Soon all three disappeared into the crowd.

  Sipping more of her wine, she observed the dancers circling the middle of the room. The men held their female partners tightly with their chests brushing one another. Her jaw dropped when more than a few of the men caressed their partner’s posterior. The women didn’t slap them as she’d expected. One woman even kissed her partner on the mouth for all to see.

  She sipped her wine faster, the sweet liquid warming her belly and helping the tension leave her body. She lifted her mask to wipe away her moist cheeks and under her eyes. When a violinist started playing, she caught sight of a tall woman with black hair piled high on her head, wearing a gold silk gown. The unmasked woman tipped her head back as she laughed at something the extremely handsome and dark-haired man by her side said to her. He whispered something in her ear, and she faced Lucy’s way.

  Her throat constricted. She rose from the chair on trembling legs and almost stumbled on the hem of her dress as she moved back as far as she possible. Before she could escape the room, the striking woman’s mouth dropped and her eyes widened. Time came to a screeching halt.

  “Irena?” She blinked rapidly as if it erased her former best friend and ex-lover from her sight.

  Irena stepped toward her. She backed away, bumping into a group of men. The room spun. No matter that her face was covered by a mask; Irena would recognize her anywhere. The last time they had spoken, Irena had said such a thing before Lucy told her to never contact her again.

  She thought she heard her name, but darted through the mass of bodies, searching for the exit, until she was caught near a bar. She turned to see if she spotted Irena, when a hand landed on her shoulder. The room started to go dark, and she blinked away the purple spots in front of her eyes.

  An arm curved around her waist. Staring up at an older man with graying hair and a pointed goatee, she struggled as he leaned down to kiss her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Join me in a toast to another successful night.”

  Tisha saluted her father, whose chest puffed out from under the double-breasted chocolate frock coat he’d worn for the occasion.

  She drank her wine and thought about the cut she would receive from tonight’s profits. There was a dress she wanted to buy on Bond Street. A blue-and-white-striped satin dress with a lace-flounce bodice, well suited for those days when she explored London. She would wear it when she attended the last weekend of the Great Expedition. Perhaps Aidan would join her and Abbie and Benji would tag along—what in the world is Aidan doing with that woman?

  She leaned over the banister to get a better look at her brother with his arm curled around the Marchioness de Macey. She curved her hand around his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. He laughed and kissed her. The marchioness rubbed against him like a cat in heat. Her head titled back, showing off a rose-cut garnet necklace, an anniversary gift from her deceased husband, or so she had told Tisha many times before when they saw each other during the gaiety Pythos provided.

  She cursed and chugged her wine. Aidan was playing with fire. She hated his flirting, not considering Abbie’s feelings or how Abbie might react if she caught him making nice with the viperous marchioness.

  “Darlin’, your brother knows what he’s doing. Trust him.” Da kissed the top of her head.

  “I don’t understand why he’s…friendly with the marchioness. Those two always have their heads together, whispering and laughing.” She tapped her chin. “Does he have plans for the marchioness that could benefit the club? Is he buttering her up to make her invest in Pythos or maybe another business venture?”

  He set his forearms on the banister. “She has expressed an interest in becoming partners of some sort. Aidan is working something out with her. Their partnership could lead to ma—”

  Benji rushed over, out of breath. “There’s a problem in the kitchen. Cook is fightin’ with one of the kitchen boys again.” He swiped his cap off and wiped his forehead.

  “Jaysus, Cook will be the death of me” Da handed his glass to Tisha. “I’d better go take care of it.”

  “Have fun. Don’t end up killing anyone.” She smiled.

  “Come with me, lad, I’ll teach you how to knock some heads together,” he said to Benji, whose eyes widened in alarm.

  Poor Benji never knew when Da joked or not. The boy just didn’t have the smarts to figure out certain things. But even with his dense mind and timid nature, everyone at Pythos treated him kindly. It was a shame he would never rise above his current station as a messenger and serving boy.

  “Make certain Da doesn’t yell and scream. Can you do that for me?” she asked the youth, who stopped his fidgeting.

  His face brightened. “I sure will. You can count on me!”

  Da chuckled and, ruffling Benji’s hair, drew the boy down the stairs.

  She turned her attention to the floor below to observe Aidan and the marchioness. Her lips twisted in disgust when the marchioness drew Aidan near. As the music changed into a different tune, the marchioness spun around and suddenly paused. She stepped away from Aidan and stared in shock at something—or someone.

  Now this was interesting. Across from the marchioness, a woman in a white mask and dark-green gown shot up from her chair and backed away. She mouthed something and stumbled through the crowd. The marchioness darted forward, but Aidan grasped her arm. She thrust him away and waved in the direction of the runaway woman. As she turned back around, two couples approached her and started talking.

  She kept her eyes on the woman trying to escape. She was easy to spot considering most of the women here wore lighter gowns and dark-colored masks, the opposite of this inexplicable woman who bumped into people blindly. She appeared to have no sense of direction, and, when she reached the bar area, she swayed on her feet until a man grabbed her shoulder. She struggled as he bent down to kiss her.

  Angered by the boorish man molesting the terrified woman, Tisha ran down the steps and whistled to the two guards standing near the bottom of the staircase. They followed her through the crowd to rescue the woman, who looked like she was ready to faint.

  * * *

  Lucy’s breath lodged in her throat, and tears blinded her, as the man holding her tried to steal a kiss.

  “No!” She pushed at his chest. He chuckled and stuck his face in the side of her throat. His gin-soaked breath smothered her, and she twisted her head away, calling for help.

&nb
sp; “Give us a kiss, pretty. That’s what your type is here for,” her captor growled and licked her cheek.

  She drew back her hand, ready to slap him across the face, when he was propelled back by two tall muscular men dressed in black. An arm came around her waist. She started to struggle then stilled when a woman spoke softly in her ear.

  “Hush, everything is fine now. He won’t hurt you again.”

  She covered her face, tears falling down her cheeks. Gathered against the body, she rested her cheek on a soft, willowy chest smelling faintly of flowers like roses or tulips.

  “Throw this donkey’s ass out before he causes any more problems,” the woman ordered and pulled Lucy away.

  “Where are you taking me?” she blinked away tears.

  “Some place quiet where you can compose yourself. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you until you’re no longer frightened.”

  She clutched the woman’s arm as they left the room. Cooler air met her face, and she inhaled. Her companion gave her a handkerchief, and she dried her eyes as they strode down a hall and away from the people and the loud music.

  They came to a large door. The woman opened it, and they went inside. Lucy blew her nose and blinked away stray tears as she was guided to a chaise lounge Sitting, she inhaled a shaky breath and finally peered up at the person who saved her from harm.

  Her breath lodged in her throat as she viewed the vision standing before her in a low-cut, iridescent-teal silk gown lined in ivory lace. The first thing that caught her eye wasn’t how lovely the woman looked in the gown, but her face littered with freckles. It was most pleasing with a small nose and inquisitive hazel eyes with long lashes. She moistened her plump pink lips as she turned her attention to the perfectly, rounded orbs of her bosom.

  The woman moved to a small bar in the corner. She poured clear liquid from a pitcher into a glass and brought it over. Lucy accepted the glass and sniffed inside.

  “It’s only water. I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night.” The woman sat next to her and arranged her skirt.

  “How do you know I was drinking?” She lifted the glass to her lips but halted. A prickling sensation spread through her chest. “Were you spying on me?”

  The woman’s lips twitched. “Not at first, but I do keep watch over what occurs here at Pythos. I’m Letitia McGrath, but you can call me Tisha. My father is Teague McGrath, owner of this establishment.” She held out her hand.

  She drank, the cool water quenching her thirst and parched mouth. She curled her palms around the glass. “Letitia is an…interesting name. I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

  Tisha dropped her hand, her mouth turning downward. “It means happiness. I’m named after a saint.”

  She rubbed her forehead where the beginning of a headache started. “I don’t mean to be rude. What happened in the ballroom has unsettled me.”

  “And rightly so! I would have screamed to high heaven and kicked the nob where it hurt.” An evil glint appeared in Tisha’s eyes.

  She chortled then snorted. She covered her mouth, embarrassed. “Forgive me, I’ve never…laughed in such way.”

  “Eh, I won’t tell if you won’t.” Tisha grinned, her front teeth pulling on her bottom lip.

  For some reason, her stomach became heavy, and a slight throbbing started between her thighs. It had been so long since she felt anything like it. The last time was when Irena kissed—no, she refused to think about her.

  “You’ve become pale. Take off your mask. You’ll feel better if you do.” Tisha reached out and tugged on the side of the mask, her fingertips brushing the rim of Lucy’s ear.

  Now that throbbing expanded and increased to her embarrassment. She shifted her head away from Tisha’s searching hands. “You’re very friendly. Are you like this with all your guests?”

  Tisha shrugged, not seeming out of sorts at the way Lucy tried to distance herself. She crossed her one leg over the other and folded her hands around her knee. “I’m the main hostess and go out of my way to make sure all the guests here are well taken care of.” She gave Lucy a questioning stare. “I haven’t seen you here before. It’s your first time?”

  She nodded. “I came here with my brother.”

  “No husband?”

  She stared at her gloves, noticing the indentation of her wedding ring under the fabric. “I’m a widow. My husband died little over a year ago.”

  “My condolences.” Sympathy lined Tisha’s voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Tisha’s forehead knitted. “You came here with your brother? That’s something I haven’t heard of before. Did he think you would find a new husband here?”

  She drank more of her water then set her glass next to her feet, stalling. The question unnerved her, and she should leave this very minute, but she was curious about Tisha and what her hostess duties entailed. “No, I’m not looking for another husband. I don’t think I shall ever marry again. I like my independence.” She smiled softly as she thought about her small, two-story cottage and the garden she found solace in. “We’re looking for our younger brother. They’re twins—”

  Tisha snapped her fingers. “Colby and Chase Daugherty? You’re their sister?”

  “Y-yes. I’m their older sister. But please don’t mention this conversation or my appearance here to anyone. I would like to keep my reputation intact, thus the mask.” She pointed at it and smiled bravely, hoping Tisha wouldn’t spread any gossip about her. It was bad enough her former friend may have figured out she was here.

  Tisha raised an eyebrow and shifted closer, their hips touching. She jerked from the sudden action. Her heart thumped faster, and beads of sweat lined her upper lip and around her hair line.

  “You’re looking for Colby? Why? He’s made a home for himself here. From what I hear, he’s having problems with his father. Is it true?”

  She shrugged and played with a stray string on her glove. Before she pulled it, Tisha’s hand fell over hers. She opened and closed her mouth, uncertain what to say or do.

  “You’re trembling. Why? I’m not here to blackmail you or make fun of you.” Tisha squeezed Lucy’s hand. “You look like you need someone to talk to, and I’m willing to offer you that.”

  “Why? We just met a few minutes ago. I don’t know you at all. Why would I trust you about my father’s illness and Colby’s guilt over it?” She shut her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d divulged such a private matter to a stranger!

  “You could always blame the alcohol you drank for your slipup or how upset you were at seeing an acquaintance you hadn’t been expecting,” Tisha murmured.

  She shook her head, not comprehending. “What do you mean? I don’t know anyone here. Why would I? I would never associate with anyone here.”

  Tisha rolled her eyes and finally released Lucy’s hand. Lucy still felt the phantom touch seeping through her gloves. Tisha stretched back, resting on her elbows. She kicked up her leg and dangled her slipper off her toe.

  Lucy started to stand. “I’m feeling much better now. I should go see—”

  “Irena, better known as the Marchioness de Macey? I assume you don’t want her to seek you out before you find your brothers?” Tisha rocked her leg, and her slipper landed on the floor.

  She curled her fingers in her palms and glared at the audacious woman. “What are you implying? Just come out and say what you mean.”

  Tisha sat up and pressed her palm on the cushion, moving her arm behind Lucy. Her face was far too near.

  “I’m good at observing people and figuring out how they’re feeling or what they’re thinking, based on their movements and posture. Before I rescued you from that drunken ass, I saw the way you reacted to the marchioness and she to you.”

  Tisha’s mouth touched Lucy’s ear, and she shuddered. She dug her fingers deeper in her palms and inhaled deeply.

  “You’re asking if Irena and I know one another? Yes. We did when we were younger.” She glanced at Tisha from the corner of
her eye for her reaction.

  “Irena has been a guest at Pythos for many years. She came here with her husband before he died. She’s now good friends with my brother, Aidan, which I find surprising. She prefers the company of women.”

  “Yes? She enjoys female companionship as most women do.” Lucy became more confused by the second. “I’m not following you.”

  Tisha twined a stray strand of hair around her finger. “I really don’t think you’re so innocent, seeing as you’ve been married and have known Irena, perhaps on an intimate level. I don’t mean to shock you, but the marchioness, with her husband’s permission, enjoyed the female companionship we provide.” She ran her tongue across her bottom lip. “The girls would tell me stories after her visits. The woman has quite the appetite, and I don’t mean for the selection of foods we offer.”

  Lucy sat up straight as if a hot poker had landed on her back. A shrill whistle echoed in her ears. Tisha couldn’t be implying such a thing, unless she had accepted Irena’s company in the same manner. Had Lucy’s reaction to her former friend given her away?

  “Irena and I lived across the street from one another and were friends growing up. After we both married, we lost touch. I was just shocked to see her here, that’s all. For you to imply such a thing is dis—”

  Tisha laughed and bumped Lucy’s shoulder with her own. “You’re not a good liar. Your flushed face and heavy breathing tells me otherwise. Either you’re nervous because of our conversation, or I’ve caught you in a lie. Again, you don’t have to worry about me snitching on you. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

  “I-I don’t have any secrets,” she whispered.

  “We all have secrets. Some more than others.” Tisha curved her arm around Lucy’s shoulder. “There, there now, I don’t mean to make you upset. I went too far. It’s obvious Irena means something to you, and, from my point of view, she must have hurt you horribly. She’s the type of person who would stomp on another to get what she wants.”