Page 65 of Tempting the Scoundrel
“But your club is—”
“You misunderstand,” The Madame said gently. “I don’t learn information in this club. I don’t encroach on the privacy of those in my rooms. I certainly don’t partake. The Masquerade is not for me.”
This information surprised Alexandra. After all, part of the Masquerade’s allure was anonymity. It allowed members to take new lovers and explore their desires, free of judgment or expectations. While they had never spoken of the Madame’s own role at her club, Alexandra had assumed the other woman had taken lovers—or sent invitations to sate her own personal desires.
“If you don’t partake, then why . . .”
“Start a den of iniquity?” Beneath the dark lace, Alexandra saw the slight curve of a smile. “The truth is, I’m a hopeless romantic. I hope, beyond all else, that some of my members fall in love and have no further need of this place.” Alexandra sensed that the Madame was smiling now. “I’ve heard your brother and sister-in-law are very happy.”
James and Emma had met at the Masquerade some months back. Alexandra had let Emma borrow her own Masquerade mask to attend—though her friend’s affair with James had come as a welcome surprise.
“They’re still away on their honeymoon, and the post has been slow,” Alexandra replied. “I expect they’ll be along when my brother hears of my marriage. I never told him.”
Once she confirmed she wasn’t pregnant with Nick’s child, Alexandra only wanted to forget. Pretend her folly never happened. Over the years, her marriage to Nick had taken on its own mythology—it became easier to look on those days as a dream. Something she had imagined while floating in Stratfield Lake on a warm day.
Again, Alexandra felt the Madame’s assessing gaze. She could make out the soft curve of her mouth beyond the lace veil. “Were you ashamed, then? Of your husband’s background?”
“No. Marrying a nobleman never mattered to me.” Never that. “He hurt me a long time ago. I’ve spent all this time hardening my heart, and now . . .”
“And now?”
It ought to have astonished her, how freely she could speak in front of this woman. But the Madame held so many secrets. Alexandra didn’t need to see her face or know her name to understand that this woman was worth trusting.
Alexandra shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve spoken with my solicitor of my intent to petition for divorce.”
She had to ready herself for the scrutiny of her peers, the cruel gossip that would only grow worse. A divorce meant revealing to society what they had long thought: that no man would want her, except for her money. That she had nothing else to offer.
The Madame fidgeted with the trimming of her veil. “On what grounds have you decided?”
Alexandra pressed her lips together. “My solicitor tells me adultery is easiest. Nick won’t keep me in this marriage against my will. I know him that well.”
“Mm.” Through the lace of the veil, Alexandra saw the Madame’s lip lift in a small smile. “And if he loves you?”
Alexandra didn’t know what to say to that.It wasn’t all lies, he’d told her.No.She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She harbored too much resentment in her heart to let him near it again. She couldn’t trust that he told her the truth, or that he ever loved her at all.
“It’s been four years,” she said softly.
For once, Alexandra was grateful for the Madame’s veil. It hid a gaze she knew that was as penetrating as sharpened steel. “Is that enough time for forgiveness?” Alexandra didn’t answer. The Madame turned to the window with a short laugh. “As I said: hopeless romantic.”
Chapter 20
Nick straightened as Alexandra descended from the Madame’s room. “Everything all right?”
Alexandra gave a nod, avoiding his searching gaze. She didn’t wish to think of the memories the Madame had dislodged, all those feelings that she had tried so hard to bury. Every moment in his presence brought some foolish new longing: to see him, to touch him, to kiss him. The ship she longed to take her across the sea became more difficult to picture.
Think of the ocean lapping the sides of the boat, the waves carrying you far away. Think of how wonderful freedom will be. The engine of the ship will take you across the ocean with a speed of fourteen-point-five knots. Or the Continent? You can choose anywhere you want. Go to Germany to see the Striezelmarkt at Christmastime.
Alexandra straightened her shoulders—holding onto the image of an endless sea, new sights in other countries—and pressed the latch beneath a painting of Ares and Venus. “Come,” she said, swinging out the door behind the painting. “The Madame asked that we use this route. She has guests due to arrive, and it would be best if we weren’t caught without a mask.”
“I’ve seen fewer hidden entrances in buildings populated by spies,” Nick said, following her.
“And what doyouknow about government spy passages?”
“Plenty enough.”
Alexandra gaped at him. “Never say you have Home Office operatives in your pocket?”
His smile sent a jolt of longing through her. “A few of them might be decent operatives, sweetheart, but they’re shite at hazard, and some information is as valuable to me as currency.”
