Regency High Society Vol 3. Elizabeth Rolls
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won the day and Katherine was on the point of retracing her steps to find the housekeeper, when a door suddenly burst open, and a squealing female, dressed only in a pair of frilly pantalettes, erupted into the passageway, quickly followed by a balding, middle-aged man, sporting only a pair of under-breeches, and brandishing something suspiciously resembling a feather duster.
As the ribald pair disappeared round the corner of the passageway, the woman squealing with delight as she received a thwack with the feather-ended stick across the buttocks, stark reality hit Katherine with all the force of a physical blow, and was no less disconcerting than the fingers which suddenly grasped her arm and hauled her backwards. The door was then firmly closed and re-locked and she found herself confronted by the highly disapproving housekeeper.
‘I warned you not to go wandering about, mademoiselle!’ Her tone was scolding, like that of a governess reprimanding a disobedient child. ‘Come, dinner is almost ready, and I have yet to dress your hair.’
In something of a daze, Katherine allowed herself to be led back into the bedchamber, and made no demur when requested to sit before the dressing-table. The housekeeper’s demeanour changed the instant she began to set about the task of arranging the auburn curls, and she became once again that very obliging woman who had willingly catered for her unexpected guest’s every need. Would that Katherine could summon up one ounce of gratitude now for all the care and attention she’d received!
A house of ill repute! A surge of anger swiftly mastered Katherine’s searing sense of shame. It beggared belief that any man purporting to be a gentleman would ever think of housing a virtuous young woman in a brothel, let alone leaving her there to fend for herself. Yet her so-called protector, the unprincipled wretch, had done precisely that!
Like a bottle of warm champagne, vigorously shaken, Katherine was ready to explode. Had Daniel been present she would not have been responsible for her actions. Yet she somehow retained sufficient control and good manners enough to thank the housekeeper for the trouble she had taken over the arrangement of her hair, before obediently following her down to a room on the ground floor where a table had been set for just two persons.
She was conscious of a stab of disappointment only to find Madame Carre present, and did her utmost to convince herself that this was purely the result of being denied the sweet satisfaction of subjecting Major Ross to a blistering tirade.
‘Ah, Katherine! I may call you Katherine, may I not?’ Madame Carre greeted her with every evidence of delight, before she subjected her guest’s attire to a swift scrutiny. ‘I see the dress fits you very well. I was sure that it would.’
Until that moment Katherine hadn’t given a thought as to whose apparel she had donned. She was fairly certain that it had not been taken from the wardrobe of the woman who was now patting that portion of the chaise-longue beside her invitingly. Blessed with womanly curves, Madame Carre was below average height, and several inches shorter than Katherine. It was quite possible, however, that the flimsy garment belonged to one of those females working in this disgraceful establishment.
Cosseted and protected throughout her life Katherine might have been, but she was not completely ignorant of the ways of the world. She had been aware for quite some time that younger men were wont to seek the company of a certain type of female, and it was not unheard of for a married man to satisfy his carnal desires outside marriage either. She wasn’t so bigoted as to condemn those poor unfortunates who, through no fault of their own, were forced to sell themselves in order to survive. Madame Carre, however, didn’t appear to be undernourished. And neither had that brazen hussy whom she had seen romping along the passageway been a half-starved waif!
Something in her expression must have betrayed her thoughts, and the fact that she was no longer ignorant of the nature of the establishment in which she had been temporarily housed, for Madame Carre, after a moment’s thoughtful silence, lowered her deceptively dreamy brown eyes and smiled wryly.
‘Oh, dear,’ she muttered. ‘My darling Daniel will not be best pleased with his little Josephine when he discovers that you know.’
Major Ross’s views on the matter were of absolutely no interest whatsoever to Katherine. After all it was he, the unconscionable wretch, who had brought her here in the first place! she decided, at last availing herself of the invitation to sit beside her hostess on the chaise-longue. Outraged though she was, she was still not prepared to allow the housekeeper to be blamed for what had been in effect her own misdeeds, and didn’t hesitate to make this point very clear, before casually enquiring the present whereabouts of the man who had plummeted in her estimation.
‘After we returned in the carriage, he went into the town to see if he could find a buyer for your horses. I no longer enjoy that form of exercise and have no need for hacks. Furthermore, my stable is not sufficiently large to house them. He said he doubted he would be back in time to join us for dinner. But I am certain we can manage to entertain ourselves well enough without him.’ Again there was a suspicion of a wry smile. ‘As you might imagine, it is not often that I find myself in the company of such a refined and charming young lady.’
Striving not to allow lingering resentment or prejudice to cloud her judgement, Katherine attempted to view her hostess dispassionately as she watched her rise gracefully to her feet and move across to the table on which several decanters stood.
Madame Carre might not have been universally considered a beauty. Yet, blessed with a riot of dusky curls, a flawless ivory complexion, and a pair of sparkling dark eyes, she was certainly most attractive. She was not short on charm or sportiveness, traits which would undoubtedly appeal to the vast majority of the opposite sex, and for all her provocative smiles and dreamy-eyed glances, she was not lacking in intelligence either.
It was only when she accepted the wine held out to her that Katherine realised that, since entering the room, the conversation had been conducted in English and, intrigued, she didn’t hesitate to discover where Madame had learned to speak the language so well.
‘Josephine, please,’ Madame insisted before subjecting Katherine to yet another of those swift and acutely penetrating glances. ‘My parents were prosperous enough to afford the services of a governess for both my sister and myself.’ Once again a flicker of a wry smile tugged at the corners of the full-lipped mouth. ‘The dress you are wearing is a present for my widowed sister. I intend to pay her a visit in the not too distant future. Needless to say, I cannot invite her or my little niece to stay here with me, though I do try to help her as much as I can. Her husband died in Spain, and she does not find it easy to manage on the little she makes from taking in sewing. I help as much as I’m allowed, but she is very proud. One day I shall buy my house by the Seine, and invite them to live with me.’
Clearly detecting the slightly sombre, almost wistful, note in her voice, Katherine couldn’t help thinking that Madame Carre was not altogether happy with her present situation. So why had she chosen such a profession in the first place when she was more than capable of earning herself a living in some genteel occupation? And where did Monsieur Carre fit into the scheme of things?
‘And you, Madame … Josephine, have you ever been married?’ Katherine found herself asking, curiosity having got the better of her a second time, and she quickly discovered that eyes which could twinkle with a wickedly teasing sparkle could harden in an instant and glint like chips of ice.
‘Oh, yes, petite. Unfortunately I was once married. Both my sister and I married soldiers, the only difference being my sister chose wisely. My brother-in-law was a charming man, courageous and noble, not unlike your Major Ross in many ways; whereas Henri Carre, although possessing all the outward trappings of a gentleman, was a callous, manipulative blackguard who cared for nothing and no one except himself.’
Josephine’s eyes, dimmed by bitter regrets, focused on a spot somewhere on the wall opposite. ‘Young and foolish, I was beguiled by a handsome face and the silver tongue of an inveterate gamester. And not a very skilled one at that! It did not take me very long to realise the mistake I had made, but I was too proud to return to my family. When he had gambled away my dowry and our home, I had little choice but to accompany him out to the Peninsula, where