Page 30 of An Extraordinary Lord

The heat and smells of the busy brothel engulfed them, as did the noise, most of which came from the parlor leading off the entry hall. The room was filled with men waiting their turn to go upstairs, and they were being entertained in the meantime by scantily clad, flirtatious women and a musician playing the pianoforte.

But it was the woman at the center of the room who caught Veronica’s attention.

Tall and willowy with ebony hair and piercing green eyes, she wore a tightly fitted, low-cut gown of green velvet beneath a delicate overlay of gold filigree that only added to her imperial presence. So did the rubies decorating her throat and wrist. Although she was slightly older than the other women present, she sparkled in the lamplight far more brightly than the rest. She could only have been one person—

“Madame Noir,” Merritt called out to her.

She turned from the group of men surrounding her and faced him. “Snake.”

Veronica twisted just enough to mumble, “You really do make a memorable impression on people, don’t you?”

He smacked her on the bottom again. Hard.

“While I appreciate the business, especially from the likes of you,” Madame practically purred as she glided toward them, “there’s an extra fee if you bring your own partner and no discount for bringing a man.” She gestured a gloved hand at the two of them. “Although I daresay I would never have suspected your proclivities ran that way.”

Veronica would have paid a hundred pounds to see the look on Merritt’s face! But the rascal must have simply grinned rakishly in response, given the consternation that visibly gripped Madame.

“Actually, we were looking for you,” he told her. “Can we go somewhere private?”

“Well, now you’re proving much more interesting.” She slipped past them toward the stairs. “Follow me.”

Merritt carried Veronica upstairs. Every jarring step bounced her roughly on his shoulder and swirled thoughts of sweet revenge through her head. As they passed the first floor landing, she could hear all kinds of noises coming from the maze of small rooms that had been sandwiched into the floor plan wherever they would fit.

“Your timing is extraordinary, Snake,” Madame called over her shoulder as she led them up to the second floor, her hand trailing gracefully along the banister.

“Why is that?” Merritt replied casually as if carrying a man through a brothel over his shoulder was an everyday occurrence.

She guided them onto the top floor landing and down the hall. “Because I thought of you just yesterday.”

“Did you?”

“I saw a lawyer trapped up to his neck in mud in the Thames. The tide was coming in, sure to drown him.”

“What did you do?”

She unlocked and opened the door to a set of rooms overlooking the street. “Nothing, of course.”

“Of course,” he drawled.

“After all, you know what they call a dead lawyer.” She smiled as she stepped back to let them pass inside, a wide and toothy crocodile smile. “A good start.”

“You’re right,” Veronica said to Merritt, laughter at his expense coloring her voice. “Idolike her. A lot.”

With a scowl, he dropped her unceremoniously onto a gold settee with a spine-rattling bounce.

She sat up and glanced at the room around her. Undoubtedly, they were in Madame’s private suite, decorated extravagantly with lengths of purple silk draped across the walls and a gold brocade settee and chairs. A Chippendale armoire stood between two bay windows, with a writing desk and dressing table both positioned to catch the sunlight that would have fallen through the windows during the day. A set of walnut doors most likely led to her bedroom and dressing room.

Madame closed the door, shutting out the noise of the brothel. Then she folded her arms over her bosom and turned toward Merritt. All amusement vanished from her face.

“Now,” she ordered, “tell me why you’re here.”

“I want to hire your services.”

“No.”

The bluntness of that made him grin. “But I thought you did anything your customers requested.”

“Almostanything.” Madame eyed Veronica askance. “Nothim.”