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Aphrodite shook her head, her diamond earrings glittering like stars against the black night of her hair. “I am not their maman, Henri, and nor am I an ogre. I am trying to make them what they want to be. Most of them have come from nothing, or worse. They know what it is to be poor and alone, to be desperate, and they do not want to go back to it. I am only trying to make their dreams come true.”
Henri smiled at her with gentle affection. “I know that, Madame, but they do not all have your aptitude or strength of character. Sometimes they grow weary and cannot see an end to all that you make them do. It is when they cannot see their destination clearly that the journey becomes too onerous for them.”
Marietta glanced between the two of them. Obviously Henri had been with Aphrodite for many years and knew her well, and she respected and liked him, because she did not rebuke him for his comments, even if her expression showed she did not agree.
“They do not have to stay with me,” she said coolly.
Henri grimaced, as if to say, Where else would they go?
“I do not run a charitable organization.”
Henri clanged his pots and pans. “No, Madame, of course not. You only take in girls who are friendless and without hope and give them a chance at a better life. How could that be charity?”
“Others would say I corrupt them,” Aphrodite said frankly. “That they are no longer fit for respectable society once I have had them here.”
“Then I think those ‘others’ should s
peak with the girls,” Henri replied levelly, “and ask them what they think, and whether their lives now are not much better than they would have been otherwise. Some people wear their morals like chains around their necks—they would prefer a girl to die of starvation, or suffer in a bitter home, than live the sort of independent life you can teach her. There is a risk, oui, but there is risk in everything we do.”
Aphrodite smiled. “You put it very well, mon ami.”
Henri pushed his pince-nez back up his nose. “Do you think this attack on Lord Roseby is aimed at you, Madame? Does someone wish harm on Aphrodite’s Club? Or is it you they wish to harm—”
“Henri,” Aphrodite said softly, in warning. Her beringed hand came to rest on Marietta’s shoulder. “I have come to tell my daughter that Lord Roseby has expressed a wish to go home. The doctor has just examined him and he says it will be safe for him to do so, and right now Dobson is arranging for his coach to come and collect him—I think it will be more comfortable for him to be in familiar surroundings.”
“Oh.” Marietta glanced from one to the other, her head still reeling from Henri’s disclosures. “I am glad he is better.”
“You should go with him,” Aphrodite said levelly.
Marietta met her eyes, trying to read them, but there was no clue. Perhaps Aphrodite was genuinely concerned for Max’s well-being, or perhaps she was giving Marietta the chance to begin practicing on Max.
What would he say when she told him?
He’d say no, of course he would. Well, she would have to find some way to persuade him to say yes.
“Does he want me to go with him?” she asked tentatively.
“Psht! What Lord Roseby wants is of no importance, mon petit puce. You will insist upon it.”
Insist upon it. That sounded promising. Maybe she could bully Max into doing as she wished…or maybe not.
Max had no idea yet that he was to be the lock she must open to fulfill her goal. Marietta could not help but feel a little weak with dread when she imagined what he would say and do when he did.
Chapter 5
When Marietta and Aphrodite reached the vestibule, Max’s coach had already arrived and was waiting outside. It was, she thought, a very nice coach for a disinherited duke, with an insignia on the side to show who it had once belonged to, and a large coachman in uniform holding the horses. Just at that moment two burly footmen appeared in the gallery, carrying Lord Roseby between them. Dobson came up the rear, directing the awkward group as they descended the stairs. Max was dressed in the same torn and muddied clothing he had worn last night, his face was white and drawn, and he looked rather sick. But his mouth was set in those arrogant, stubborn lines that Marietta was coming to know so well.
The disinherited duke was clearly set on getting his way, whether it was good for him or not.
“Marietta is going to accompany Lord Roseby,” Aphrodite said to Dobson.
“Yes, Madame.” The only sign that Dobson was surprised by this revelation was a faint lift of his eyebrows.
Not so Max. There was no mistaking his feelings on the matter. “No, she is not,” he said emphatically.
“Yes, I am,” Marietta retorted, trying to reign in her impatience. “You look like you’re at death’s door, Max. What if you were to have a-a relapse on the journey home? You need me there to take care of you, and that is just what I mean to do.”
“Take care of me!” But clearly raising his voice hurt his head and he sensibly lowered it. “I don’t need help,” he said through clenched teeth.
