Page 33 of Dare to Love a Duke
“A goddamned earthquake,” he spit out.
Despite his clipped words, her expression softened.
Gently, she said, “The death of a parent... it’s no easy burden to bear. I understand. And you have my sympathy,” she continued. “It cannot be comfortable knowing that your father kept secrets.”
The world had turned to chaos. Nothing could be relied upon. If his fatherwasthe club’s patron, could Tom trust that even the walls of Northfield House would remain standing? Or would one light touch of his fingers level the mansion?
“No mistress,” he said in a harsh, grating voice. “No gambling debts, no bribes. No.” He made another sound that approximated laughter. “Father owned a goddamned sex club. Made money from it. From people wearing masks andfucking.”
Though the pursed set of her lips showed her sympathy for his situation, her eyes were clear and full of purpose.
“He did,” she said in a placating tone, “and kept his reasons for doing so to himself. Neither you nor I can guess at his motivation, but there’s something both of us cannot ignore.” Gingerly, she took a half step toward him. “The club exists, and as manager, I must do my duty by it.”
“Speak plainly,” he said, unable to keep the edge from his voice.
“Keeping the establishment going is my responsibility, but that rests on whether or notyouwant to keep it open.”
He reeled with the implication of her words, his stomach clenched tightly as if he protected himself from punches.
“I—” He cupped his forehead with his hand. The world had devolved into a spinning whirligig of noise and light, and nothing made sense.
His father, a model of virtue and a faultless husband, had also owned the Orchid Club. The two notions were completely incompatible.
Frantically, he searched for the lie in Lucia’s words, picking them apart. If she oversaw the establishment, she’d damage herself by going public with information about its owner. And, as she’d said, blackmailers didn’t give money to their intended victims.
Nausea choked him. Should anyone ever find out about the late Duke of Northfield owning a club engineered so people could fuck anonymously, the family name would be ripped to tatters. The hell with his own reputation, but what about his mother? What about Maeve?
His sister’s marriage to Hugh would never happen, not if the Duke of Brookhurst knew about the family connection to the Orchid Club. She’d be shamed into hiding, along with Tom’s mother. Exile would be their sole option, seeking refuge in faraway places.
Jesus God, this was a fucking disaster.
“There’s no need for anyone to learn that your father owned the club,” she said reasonably. “That confidence has been kept. No one is truly harmed by the operation’s existence. If anything, it brings pleasure and happiness to many. And,” she added, coming a little closer, “you and I are the only two who know that you’ve succeeded your father as patron. Discretion has kept me housed and fed for many years. I’d never ruin my own livelihood by going public. So you see,” she said gently, “the club can continue on as it has. Everyone profits.”
She looked at him expectantly.
Fuck.She wanted him to make a decisionnow?
“I don’t know,” he finally ground out.
A frown creased her brow.
“Surely there’s no debate,” she said, as if it was perfectly reasonable for someone to decide the fate of his family in a matter of moments.
Anger bubbled up again, that he should be put in this position—by his father, by her.
“Goddamn it, I said I don’t know!” Only when she stepped back cautiously did he realize he was shouting, and the sound reverberated off the walls of the larder. “I need time.”
Her mouth opened and then closed, her expression smoothing out and becoming unreadable. After a moment, she set the thick bundle of money on a cabinet.
“This still belongs to you.”
She took a step toward him and laid a hand on his forearm.
Instinctively, he leaned into her touch, craving the comfort that she had given him for a year, seeking the pleasure they’d made together. But she was a woman far more complicated than he’d ever imagined.
He pulled his arm away.
She watched him draw back, and an expression of grim determination settled on her face before she straightened.
