The midafternoon sun shining brightly through the window emphasized the section of the hem Tisha was in the middle of stitching. Dressed in only her chemise, she finished and bit off the thread. Brushing her palm over her work, she mentally patted herself on her back for a job well done. Behind her, the woman dozing in her bed snored softly. Soon enough she’d awaken Donna to show off the new dress she’d wear tonight for her performance at the masquerade.
Tisha peeked outside when she heard a woman’s laugh. Her bedroom overlooked the back, where she had an open view of the small garden. Near the corner was a shed, and next to it was Abbie, one of servants canoodling with Aidan. Abbie and Aidan kissed, their arms around one another. She smiled, not disconcerted by their public display of affection. She approved of Abbie and Aidan’s relationship, and she hoped her stepbrother would soon marry Abbie, who’d been dedicated to him for years.
The two broke apart, and when Aidan boosted Abbie up, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her behind the shed. Soon, the only sounds Tisha heard from the two were some moans and sighs. She couldn’t fault them their happiness. Abbie worked the hardest of any woman she knew, not only laboring late into the night at Pythos, but also taking care of her sick mother and her younger brother who’d just started his employment at the club. Benji was a diligent worker at seventeen, although his mind was slower than most boys his age. As for Aidan, he was an entirely different kettle of fish and the one she worried about most of all.
“You look striking with the sunlight in your hair. I wish I had beautiful red hair like yours.”
Tisha went to her bed where Donna, better known as La Donna, lay on her side with her cheek on her arm. Her black, waist-length hair covered her like a blanket. One of her nipples, an appealing piece of flesh Tisha had enjoyed licking during the night, poked through the locks.
“I wish I had long, full curls as yours.” She flipped her pin-straight hair over one shoulder as she leaned down to kiss the Frenchwoman.
Donna moved to her back and lifted her face to receive Tisha’s kiss. Their tongues tangled together, and their breath mingled. She brushed Donna’s hair and down her front, finding her nipple and giving it a pinch.
Donna giggled and bit Tisha’s lip. “You want another tickle, ma belle?”
She smiled and cupped Donna’s breast. Donna reached up to possess both Tisha’s breasts in return. She flicked her tongue on Donna’s top lip and raised up on an elbow, closing her eyes while Donna stroked and circled with her fingers.
“Your tits are like the most succulent of cherries.” Donna’s voice became breathy when Tisha cupped her between her legs.
“Is that what Finley calls your tits when he gooses you after a performance?” She sat back cross-legged when Donna removed her hands and lifted an arm over her head.
“Are you jealous I also share my body with a lusty gentleman like Mr. Finley?” Donna wiggled her eyebrows.
She shrugged and set her chin on Donna’s shoulder, circling a nail across Donna’s breast.
Donna dropped her hand on Tisha’s and cleared her throat. She recognized that sign. Donna had something important to announce. She stroked the beautiful woman’s cheek. “What is it?”
Donna twined a curl around her finger. “I’ve enjoyed spending last night and the morning with you. The past six months have been incredible, but Finley doesn’t want me to share my favors with anyone else. He wants to become my protector and remain exclusive to him.”
“Does he know I’m your lover?” Tisha asked.
“I’ve led him to believe I have multiple lovers, but only men. I’m afraid if I tell him I enjoy the company of women, he’d want them to join us in bed.” She smiled coyly. “A few weeks ago we attended a party, and he not only shared me with one of his male friends, but another woman there.” She stretched both her arms high above her head and arched her back. “It was beyond decadent and naughty. I loved every second of it.”
She snickered and flicked Donna’s nipple. “So, you prefer to be with Finley and not with me?”
Donna lifted Tisha’s chin. Her eyes dampened, and Tisha’s stomach clenched. She cared for Donna as a friend, but nothing more. She hoped Donna didn’t feel differently. If so, it would make things awkward for both, since Donna was Pythos’s most popular performer.
“My dear, I love you as a friend, and have enjoyed the intimacies we’ve shared with one another. But Finley has found a special place in my heart. I can’t imagine my life without him. I want to give it a go with him and see where it leads.” A tear slipped down Donna’s cheek. “Please don’t be angry.”
She wiped the tear away with her tongue. She kissed Donna’s palm and closed the woman’s fingers around the kiss she left there. “I’m not angry at all. I wish you the best with your beau. We’ll part as friends.”
Donna engulfed Tisha in her arms. “I adore you so much. One day you’ll find someone special whom you want to belong to. Then your heart will burst with love and happiness for the entire world to see!”
“You’re a true poet, La Donna.” She tapped Donna’s nose and pressed a lusty kiss to her lips. It was goodbye kiss, a remembrance of what they had shared together these past months.
“I’ll always cherish our time together, mon poupee,” Donna said on Tisha’s mouth, the French endearment rolling off her tongue and making Tisha shiver with need.
“I will also. But before we part, you must try on the dress I’ve created for you to wear tonight,” she announced, spanning Donna’s hips with her hands. Slowly, she moved down toward the apex of Donna’s thighs.
Donna’s breath hitched as she spread her legs. “First, we must share one last goodbye tumble with one another. Bon son?”
She murmured her consent, involved with running her fingers through Donna’s dark bush. One last time, she would make Donna sing her pleasure for all to hear.
“Climb up on my chest so I can thank you properly,” Donna purred, and began rolling up Tisha’s chemise.
Not wanting to refuse Donna’s gift, she threw off her chemise, and, resting her hands on Donna’s shoulders, she presented her cunny for Donna to taste with her talented tongue and mouth.
* * *
Tisha whistled as she walked to her Da’s office. She fixed her damp hair, braiding it tightly, hoping it would have some curl to it by the time the club opened its doors to the public. Although she’d received many compliments on the shade of her hair, she couldn’t do much with it other than pull it back in a braid or pile it up on top of her head. She hoped the new floral scented soap she used to wash it gave it some decent shape. She didn’t mind smelling like roses, not at all.
“I always come up smelling like roses anyway.” She snickered and turned the corner, pausing when she heard two male voices. One was Da’s, the other Aidan’s cackle.
Aidan had the most annoying laugh, one she couldn’t help but poke fun at. In return, he loved teasing her about the abundance of freckles covering her face. She grinned, remembering the way Donna appreciated those freckles and the ones on her chest and lower—
“I hope the bastard dies a slow and painful death,” Aidan announced, glee prominent in his voice.
Curious over whom he wished dead, she peeked inside the half-open door. Da leaned against his desk, chewing on a cigar, while Aidan paced, clearly agitated as he swung his arms to and fro.
“Calm yourself, lad. I wouldn’t want anyone to overhear and confuse what you said.”
She winced. Her father didn’t mind her listening in on the staff, but he would be disappointed if he found she eavesdropping on his conversation with Aidan. She backed away and puckered her lips to start whistling when she stalled upon Aidan mentioning the name—Daugherty.
“It’s not like I’m planning on murdering Daugherty. I just want him to suffer for all he’s done to me and what he did to my ma. How would I to know the letter I sent him would make him sick?”
Sick? The last she’d heard was Daugherty was healthy as a horse for a man of his advanced age of sixty or so. No matter the amount of times Aidan cursed his biological father to hell and wished a pox on his soul, the man lived a full and healthy life, or had until last week. She’d heard Aidan’s tangents many times before. He rarely kept anything from her or Da. It had been like that since Aidan was a small boy and Da married Aidan’s mother, Maire, and adopted Aidan.
“Blackmail can cause any man, or person for that matter, to lose years off their life. What was in that letter you sent him?” Da asked in a collected and steady voice.
She braced for Aidan’s answer. For years Aidan wanted revenge on Geoff Daugherty, the rich businessman who’d seduced Aidan’s mother, gotten her pregnant with Aidan, then left her when he married a more fitting woman, acceptable to society and the Daugherty name.
“I threatened to finally go public about our relationship to his friends and business associates.”
Da snorted. “And how would you do that? You have no proof. Daugherty’s high-society toffs wouldn’t believe a word from an Irish-Jew commoner. You’re courting danger. Isn’t it enough you have Daugherty’s youngest under your thumb—”
Something like a loud bang came from within the room. She peeked through the door and saw Aidan knocking on the top of Da’s cherrywood desk. Da removed his cigar from his mouth and sent his son a displeased look.
“But, Teague, I do have proof! I have Ma’s letters, the ones she kept from that bastard where he promised to love and protect her.” Aidan’s voice rose, and he clutched Da by the arms. “I attached one of the letters to the note I sent him. Maybe it caused his attack. Serves the fucker right.”
She sighed and tugged on the edge of her braid. Aidan was too full of himself, ruled by emotion. One of her earliest memories of her stepbrother was his anger and resentment toward the man who took part in conceiving him but then dropped him for his new family. Nothing good would come of this. She had told him many times before, but he didn’t want to listen.
Another door opened, along with footsteps and voices down the hall. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, she took a few steps back, and, as Da started talking, she knocked on the door.
He bid her enter. Aidan crossed his arms and stared at the rug while Da stroked his ginger-tinged beard.
“H’llo you two.” She curtsied and gave Da a hug.
“You’re looking mighty fine, darlin’.” He kissed the top of her head, and she sniffed the front of his shirt. The scent of starch and cloves filled her nostrils.
“You’re looking dapper as always.” She kissed his cheek and turned to face Aidan.
“Why does he always get hugs from you first?” Aidan’s mouth twisted in frustration, but at odds with his green eyes that sparkled in humor.
“I always save the best for last.” She wrapped her arms around him, and he lifted her in the air. She giggled and presented her cheek for him to kiss. She ruffled his thick black hair, wishing she could do more to lift his spirits. For a short while, he would be cheerful and amiable, but soon enough he would lose his smile and become quiet or brooding. The only other person who made him smile was Abbie. Their lips were always locked together, or they ended up snuggling when they thought no one was looking. The majority of the time, she caught them in one of the empty rooms with their clothes wrinkled or their hair messed.
“You’re my best girl.” He tapped her chin.
“Don’t let Abbie hear that. She may get jealous. Speaking of which, where is your woman?” She felt no shame in asking. It was well known they were a couple. She hoped he would do the right thing and marry his sweetheart before it was too late and Abbie ended up in the family way.
“She’s cleaning my bedroom.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes.
“I can only imagine what she’s cleaning. Perhaps the sheets? Hmm?” She poked his side where he was ticklish.
Da clapped. “Children, this is a place of business. Aidan, the wine delivery should be here soon. Go check for it. I want to chat with my beautiful daughter before I head to the bank.”
“Right.” Aidan nodded. “We’ll continue our discussion later.”
“Discussion? What are you two talking about?” she asked.
He tweaked her nose. “Nothing to concern yourself with, brat.”
She swiped his hand away, and he jumped back. With a salute, he left the room.
She settled against the desk next to her father, who lit his cigar and puffed. She scraped the toe of her shoe on the floor.
“Something’s on your mind?” He curved an arm around her waist.
“I overheard you and Aidan talking before I came in.” She rubbed the edge of her braid under her nose. “He needs to stop with his revenge. It will eat him alive.”
“It already has.” He inhaled and stared up at the ceiling. “He wants to destroy Daugherty by any means necessary. He might finally accomplish it.” He released a ring of smoke.
“How? By threatening to tell the world he’s the bastard son of one of the most respected men in all of London? Would the scandal really ruin Daugherty? There are hundreds of men like him all over England who have children on the wrong side of the blanket.”
“Try thousands.” He squeezed her shoulder and sat in his leather chair.
She sat across from him with her hands folded in her lap and her ankles crossed as her governess taught her before she became the head hostess at Pythos.
His stare grew inquisitive then softened. She’d witnessed it many times when they talked.
“You look like her now.”
“Mama?” She knew his answer, but she always loved hearing him talk about her.
“You have her smile.”
She had only fleeting memories of a woman singing to her before she put her to bed. “Do you still miss her?”
He nodded, puffing on his cigar. “I cared for your mother deeply. She gave me you, my most precious gift.”
She preened at his compliment. “I should hope I’m your most precious gift.”
He started coughing. She rose to slap him on the back, but he waved her away and she settled back in her chair. “One day those cigars are going to kill you.”
“When I meet my maker, I’ll have two in my pocket—one for me and the other for the fellow at the pearly gates who will let me in.”
She giggled, sharing a smile with him. She loved her father’s honesty. Some thought he was a charlatan and a swindler, but he did what he had to do to get by. He had made his own way in the world and proved so many wrong.
“What can I do for you, darlin’?” His entire demeanor shifted as his stare changed to a more shrewd, aloof one.
Ah, now it’s to be business between us. She didn’t squirm like she wanted to under his scrutiny but remained perfectly still and poised. “I finished La Donna’s dress for tonight. The men won’t be able to keep their eyes off of her.”
He nodded, pleased. “What about the gals? They have their costumes and masks?”
“Yes, the girls are ready. The house will rake in a nice amount of bluff tonight.” She rubbed her palms together at the thought of all the money the rich gentlemen, and some of the ladies, would spend at the gambling tables and at the bars. Some of the more secret deals in the back rooms and in shadowy corners between the girls and the toffs would occur as usual.
“Good, good.” He crossed his arms over the wide expanse of his chest. “I’m counting on you to watch the main floor and make sure there are no problems tonight.”
She’d never taken control of the main floor before. “What about Aidan? That’s his domain—”
He held up his palm. “Aidan has other things on his mind. I expect him to lose himself in a bottle or two of my finest whiskey. It might be for the best,” he added, frowning.
“Why? Is it because of Daugherty—”
“Part of it is.” He stubbed out his cigar and opened his drawer, plucking out a silver flask.
The engraving caught her eye, one she knew by heart: “To Teague, my friend and loving companion. Yours, Maire.”
He took some gulps. “Today is the anniversary of Maire’s death. Aidan’s taking it hard this year.”
She barely remembered the woman both Aidan and Da adored. Da had asked Maire to marry him right after Daugherty had left her. They only had a few years together before her life ended because of her broken heart. Da had cared for her mother, but Maire had been his one true love.
“How are you handling it?” she asked.
“Like I do every year. I’ll visit her grave and drink in her honor.” He saluted with his flask.
There was much she wanted to say about Aidan and his anguish over his mother and biological father, and Da’s role in it, but it wasn’t her place. The one time she’d confronted both men about it, they’d had a huge argument.
The air in the room thickened, and the lightheartedness between them vanished. The grandfather clock in the corner reached the top of the hour and chimed four times.
She rose from her chair. “I should have a bite to eat before I meet with the staff. Would you like to join me for an early dinner?”
“I’m not hungry right now. I’ll have something later on.” He folded his hands on his stomach.
She wanted to comfort him but stayed where she was. When he shut himself off like this, there was no use in trying to bring him out of it.
“I’m off, then. I have a busy night ahead.”
“That you do, my girl.” He ran a finger over the engraving on the flask.
She opened the door and glanced over her shoulder at the man who’d given her so much in her life.
“Love you, Da,” she whispered.
He finally looked up from the flask and winked.
Winking back, she left the room.