From the moment Kitty had exited the countess’s rooms wearing a pair of his breeches, Harrison could not keep his eyes off her derriere. The tightness around her thighs and bottom was not lost to her, but she did not think it would have such a lasting effect on him. Since they were a tad too long on her much shorter frame, Kitty had rolled them repeatedly, holding them in place with pins.
Stopping the descent of his hand, Kitty peered at him over her shoulder, a teasing grin on her lips. “Follow me.”
“Anywhere,” he replied.
Since Kitty had revealed the secret of their son’s life and death to him, everything between them had changed. Their conversation lighter, more flirtatious and teasing.
Kitty herself no longer had the impediment of the past pressing down on her, threatening to crush her from within.
Guiding Harrison behind her, she was careful to stay hidden in the shrubbery. The occupants on the balcony were too busy engaging in their wicked activities to notice them. Kitty stopped cold as one of the men became too forceful with one of the women.
Forgetting for a moment that she should not intervene, Kitty aimed for the balcony, but Harrison stopped her with a gentle tug.
“Kat, we have to get the will,” he reminded her, capturing her attention once more.
Taking one last long glance at the balcony, she centered herself, deciding that the best way to save her employees from such behavior depended on locating Jacques’ will and ending Pierre Delcour’s reign at Pleasure House forever.
She tugged the worn cap on top of her head down, trying to conceal her signature curls. Not many ladies were of African descent with a head full of long dark curls, not even at Pleasure House. If Kitty intended to be able to enter and leave without being seen, a heavy disguise was her only option.
When she reached the heavy door of the servant’s entrance, Kitty inhaled deeply, the crisp cool air centering her. Everything depended on finding Jacques’s will. If it wasn’t behind the painting that he treasured almost as much as himself, then all would be lost.
The door opened with a smooth turn of the handle, warm air greeting her. The first thing that caught her attention was the lack of servants in the kitchens and the halls.
Where was everyone?
She’d only been gone four days, and the amount of damage that Pierre had caused would take Kitty weeks to reverse.
Before they could step further down the long hallway that led to the servant stairs, the cook, Mrs. Pennyloaf, came bustling down the hall, her plump body moving like a woman twenty years younger. A young maid ran to keep pace behind her. “Tis unheard of working in such condition, no staff. Two maids. Girls meant to have two or three men in one night. No seamstress on staff! Madame would have never allowed such things,” she said in a thick Scottish accent. “Oh, who are ye two?” she asked, head swiveling between Harrison and Kitty.
The motherly woman peered at Kitty, taking a step closer to her.
Kitty removed her hat. “Hello, Mrs. Pennyloaf?—”
“Madame! I knew ye’d return, lass. It’s been hell without ye.” She grasped Kitty’s hand in hers, squeezing it tight.
Placing her hand on top of the woman’s much smaller one, Kitty gave it two gentle pats. “I know, Mrs. Pennyloaf, and I promise I am doing everything in my power to prove that I am the rightful owner of Pleasure House.”
“I know ye are.” She nodded, her white head bobbing up and down.
“We have to go, but you mustn’t tell anyone we’re here,” Kitty pleaded, tilting her head toward Harrison.
Kitty placed her hat back on her full mane of hair, tucking it under the small cap.
“Of course, Madame, not a word,” the portly woman said vehemently. “And don’t ye worry, you can depend on wee Nellie too.”
“Thank you, both,” Kitty said, giving the older woman a quick hug before she continued on.
Harrison followed close behind her as she climbed the small set of stairs leading to the main floor.
“I’ll go first.” Harrison stopped her with a hand on her shoulders.
Speechless, Kitty gave her head a quick nod. Harrison had become more protective of her since her confession of love.
His offer to add a clause in the marriage contract whirled in her mind. Kitty had always believed that she would spend the rest of her life alone. Never did she imagine that Harrison, the boy she’d loved since she was a girl, would still love her after all this time. Even after the revelation of their son, Christopher.
The smile at the side of her lips was her constant companions.
“Is it clear? We should go left, then right, and that will lead us to the main hall.” She instructed cooly.
