Joss nodded. “Well, tell me if you need any help.”
That offer surprised him. “Thank you.” The words almost choked him. “I figure it will take some time to unravel this mess before I decide.”
“You don’t want to simply confront Laura?”
“The woman is a liar.”
“She’s in a bad way, now. Bev has put her to work—a full schedule.”
Hugo wanted to feel malicious pleasure at the news that Laura was once again on her back, but all he felt was anger; the woman was too old to be doing such work. Not only would it be hard on her physically, but she wouldn’t make much money: it was a sad but undeniable truth that most men didn’t want old whores.
Hugo knew, without a doubt, that Bev would kick her out and she’d be working back alleys within a year or two.
He forbade himself from pitying her because all this mess was all her bloody fault.
“Do you need money?” Joss said the words quickly, as if he thought Hugo would be offended.
Instead, Hugo was oddly touched by the other man’s generosity. “I have some tucked away unless Laura managed to get into my bank account.” He’d left more hidden in his suite of rooms at Solange’s, but he doubted Laura had left that.
“Well, you can stay here as long as you want. Alicia wanted you to know you would be doing us a favor since an empty house always seems to fall apart faster.”
“Please thank her for me,” he said, for once managing to keep any snideness from his tone. The woman didn’t even know him but seemed determined to show him kindness.
“She keeps a skeleton staff here no matter whether the place is empty or occupied, but please feel free to engage more servants if you need any.”
“Even though she doesn’t visit?”
“I suspect that she keeps it staffed just for my infrequent visits to see my sister and brothers. She hates England and will probably never come back.” His lips quirked into a wry smile. “She claims she doesn’t want to sell it because the current market is a poor one.” He shrugged. “I don’t argue since she’s far smarter and more knowledgeable on such topics.”
Hugo could hear the pride in Joss’s voice as he boasted about his clever wife.
“I take it your wife knows nothing of what your plans are?” Joss asked.
“Neither of them do,” he said sharply. “And I plan to keep it that way.”
Joss gave a disbelieving laugh. “Good God, Hugo. How can you keep such a thing from her? Don’t you think she will—”
“If I recall correctly, Joss, you weren’t exactly in a big hurry to tell your wife about your past as a whore, either?”
“The situations couldn’t be more different. First, I didn’t marry Alicia without telling her the truth. Second, we weren’t married while I worked at Solange’s so I wasn’t still doing that sort of work.”
“I don’t plan to do that sort of work, either,” Hugo shot back.
Joss cocked his head, his expression quizzical.
“What?” Hugo demanded, even though he hadn’t said anything. “You don’t think I can just manage the place?” He snorted. “That’s assuming I can even get back in the door without Bev killing me.”
“I’m just wondering if your clients will allow you to just manage.”
“They can hardly force me to fuck them, can they, Joss?”
“What will you do if a particular”—Joss coughed the words royal duke—“returns and demands your services?”
Hugo gritted his teeth. “I shall explain I have retired.”
“And you think he will take no for an answer?”
“He will have to.”
“That will be an interesting conversation.”
The royal duke in question was a long-time client of Hugo’s. The man didn’t visit Hugo more than a few times a year, but when he did, he expected Hugo to drop everything—including his breeches—and obey his summons.
It had been a good six months since he’d last heard from his royal highness; the newspapers claimed he was somewhere on the Continent. Hopefully he would stay there. Maybe Hugo would be fortunate and could sort out this problem with throwing royalty into the mix.
He snorted, and then realized Joss was staring at him. “What now?”
“Even if you don’t take clients, you’ll still be—”
Hugo scowled. “It’s none of your affair, Joss.”
“I don’t like you very much, Hugo—and I know you don’t like me much either—”
“Something less than much and rapidly diminishing the more you pontificate.”
“I’m not pontificating. I’m just pointing out that such a deception won’t come without a cost. She seems an intelligent and lovely young woman and—”
“And you know nothing about her.” Hugo set his glass down with a thump. “She’s not a sophisticate like your wife—this sort of thing would … well, it would crush her. Her father was a bloody vicar for Christ’s sake!”
“And Mel’s husband was a curate.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” Hugo stood. “I appreciate you allowing us the use of your house, but if it comes with your advice attached, I’ll summon a hackney and we can move to a hotel right bloody now.”
Joss raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t fly into a pucker, Hugo. Of course I won’t say a word. But what if they ask me where it was that we worked together?”
“Cailean won’t ask you a thing—the lad doesn’t speak much. As for Martha, you can tell her that we met through Exchange business.”
Joss laughed. “I don’t know a thing about buying and selling stocks.”
“Either does she, so she won’t ask specifics.”
“Do you plan on lying to her for the rest of your life?”
“If need be.”
Joss sighed. “Fine, Hugo. Whatever you want. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
So did Hugo.
Chapter 26
“Hello, Laura.”
Laura’s shriek was the most satisfying sound Hugo had heard in months.
She squirmed in Hugo’s arms, but he held her easily while he shoved a rag into her mouth. He was shocked by how much weight she’d lost; holding her was like clutching an armload of hangers.
Once her cheeks were
