Her eyes watered at the vision in front of her, and Kitty knew that she would not be able to hold her tears. The entire staff of Pleasure House had come out to wish her farewell.
“Don’t leave, lass. We can fight this,” the cook, Mrs. Pennyloaf said, taking Kitty by the hand.
Unable to speak, she nodded, before she continued walking through the crowd of her family. Pleasure House and all is occupants was Kitty’s home, and leaving them in the hands of someone most undeserving was torture.
“Madame, I have been saving since you hired me, it’s yours,” Alice said, holding out a stack of bank notes.
Kitty shook her head, quickly wiping at the lone tear that had fallen. “No, Alice. I will be fine. I promise.”
Reaching the front door, she ignored Pierre and his minions. Taking a deep breath, Kitty faced the people who had become closer to her than her own family. “I will return, and when I do, I expect this place to be in one piece.” Kitty closed her eyes, allowing a few traitorous tears to fall.
“Are you ready?” Harrison asked gently.
She opened her eyes, meeting his green gaze.
“I’m ready.”
CHAPTER 7
Entering his home, Harrison glanced over to Kat for the tenth or twentieth time since they’d left Pleasure House. He wished for nothing more than to erase the pain of the last few hours, but he also knew Kat. She wouldn’t allow Delcour to best her, and he would do everything in his power to assist her, no matter what.
Seeing the usually strong and confident woman nearly succumb to tears tore at a part of Harrison that he thought was long buried. She was a mere shadow of herself, her sparkling eyes downcast, head hung low on sagging shoulders. At Pleasure House, there were no signs of weakness to be seen on her visage, but once in the carriage with no one but Richmore, Winnie, and himself, Kat had allowed herself to finally grieve what she’d lost.
This version of Kat was more vulnerable than he’d seen her in years. Even when they were younger, she’d been a force. Beautiful, strong, and independent.
Flexing his right hand, Harrison welcomed the light sting of pain from pummeling Delcour. He’d suffer all the pain in the world if it meant that Kitty could have her precious Pleasure House back.
Delcour had vehemently been after Pleasure House for years, but Harrison did not believe that he would actually convince the Chancery to vote in his favor. How the weasel had proven that he had contributed the initial investment to the business was a mystery to Harrison, but it was one he was willing to solve in order to help Kat.
The ride from Pleasure House to his home had been quiet, the four of them not saying a single word during the short ride through Mayfair.
“Perhaps, you should come to Brown Manor with us. It is unseemly for you to stay here with just the two of you,” Winnie said, taking a seat beside Kat.
Kat released a harsh laugh. “Unseemly? I’m not an innocent girl enjoying her first season in London.” She shook her head, waving her hand to Harrison. “I believe we should be more concerned about Harrison’s reputation than mine.”
Walking over to the sideboard, he poured Kat a glass of brandy. “I don’t have a reputation to protect and if I did, I wouldn’t care about it.” He walked over to her, handing her the glass. “I care that you’re safe. You can stay here as long as you need.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking the offered glass.
Her finger brushed against his, and suddenly Harrison questioned if he could have her in his home for an undetermined amount of time.
“It is very kind of Harrison to be sure, but you must consider the future now that you no longer have Pleasure House?—”
“My future is Pleasure House, Winnie.” Kitty’s words were filled with conviction. “I will not allow Pierre to ruin everything I built. People depend on me. I can’t just abandon them.”
“Do you have a plan?” Richmore asked, walking to the sideboard to pour his own drink.
“No, but I won’t give up, there must be something I can do,” Kat whispered, before she took another sip of her drink.
Harrison felt absolutely helpless watching the woman he loved endure such an injustice. It didn’t matter that she had denied his countless marriage proposals—what mattered was that she was happy.
Winnie sat forward, clasping her hands together. “The Widow’s League can help you. Remember when I was being evicted?—”
Richmore coughed, his ears turning beet red, from the mention of his previous escapades with his wife. “I did make that bit up to you, didn’t I, darling?” he turned to ask his wife.
“Perhaps,” she said in a teasing voice before she focused back on Kat. “Contact the Widow’s League. Lady Wyndam is one of the founding widows, and I know she is still in Town for the winter as my aunt has recently visited her.”
“What in God’s name is a Widow’s League?” Harrison couldn’t help but to ask.
