The Gentleman Who Loved Me (Heart of Enquiry Book 6)(38)

“You were just leaving,” he said curtly.

“Was I?” Fanny inquired.

Before he could march the other out, Primrose peered around him. “Who’s she?”

He would be damned if he introduced her to a madam. “No one to concern—”

“I am Mrs. Fanny Argent. I work with Corbett.” The bawd gave Primrose a once-over, her brows lifting. “Who are you?”

Primrose stiffened. Before Andrew knew what was happening, the two women were facing one another, their expressions reflecting mutual animosity.

“I am a friend of Mr. Corbett’s,” Primrose said, her chin lifting. “Not that it is your place to inquire about his affairs as you are a mere… employee.”

The glance she raked over the bawd’s working attire made Andrew wince. Clearly, she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion and assumed Fanny was one of the wenches.

“Forgive me.” The dangerous glitter in Fanny’s eyes belied her apology. “Due to my close working relationship with Corbett here, I see so many of his hoity-toity friends that it can be difficult to sort out who is who.”

Color flooded Primrose’s cheeks.

Enough is enough. He said sharply, “Be off with you, Fanny.”

The bawd smirked and sailed out. Andrew shut the door, locking it.

The instant he turned, Primrose burst out, “Who is she?”

“She works for me.” He couldn’t take his eyes off Primrose, couldn’t believe that she was standing in front of him. In his club—wait. What the hell was she thinking? “You shouldn’t be here. Your reputation—”

“Is she your lover?”

He blinked. “Who…you mean Fanny?”

Primrose gave a fierce little nod. She was… jealous? While, normally, he avoided possessive females like the plague, the idea of Primrose feeling that way about him filled him with tenderness.

He touched her cheek. “No, she isn’t. She manages several of my clubs.”

“You mean she’s a... procurer?” Primrose’s golden lashes swept up.

“Yes. Like me,” he forced himself to add.

He waited for her response. He didn’t know if her parents had told her about his past, but given that she’d found him at his brothel, she could have no illusions about who and what he was now.

“Well, I don’t like her manner,” Primrose said with a scowl.

Absurdly, he found himself fighting a smile. She was so damned adorable. At the same time, the rational part of his mind reminded him that she was taking an unacceptable risk.

“Sunshine, you shouldn’t be here. If anyone were to see you—”

“I took precautions.” She waved at her pinned-up veil. “And I came in through the back.”

“Your parents…”

“I’m staying with my sister, and she thinks I’m out on an errand. Please, Andrew,” she said, “don’t send me away. You told me once that you would be there for me. So much has happened, and I need to talk to you.” Her eyes beseeched him. “Only you can help me understand my past.”

He had no defense against her pleas. It was only natural that she would want to know that which had been kept from her—and it was the one thing he could give her. So they would have this time together, he reasoned. He would tell her what she wanted to know.

Then he would let her go once and for all.

“Let’s sit,” he said quietly. He led her to the divan in front of the crackling fire, taking her cloak while she removed her bonnet. “Shall I ring for some refreshment?”

“All I want is the truth.” With her hair glinting like spun gold and delicate chin lifted, she looked like a warrior princess. “Mama has been hiding it from me all these years, and I won’t stand for it any longer. I must know about my past.”

He sat next to her. “How much of it do you know?”

“Mama told me about you… and Kitty Barnes.” Her cheeks turned pink. “And what your, um, trade was.”

“I fucked women for a living.” He refused to sugar-coat or be ashamed of the fact, even for her. “Kitty was my pimp. Occasionally my lover.”

“That’s what Mama said. But I don’t remember anything of my life with the two of you.”

Seeing the uncertainty in her gaze, he felt that familiar surge of protectiveness. Only now it was mingled with desire, the combination dangerously potent.

Stay in control.

“That’s not surprising. You were only four when we parted,” he said.

“What do you recall of those years? Of… me?”

Too much. Everything.

“You were a little chick, chirping away and making everyone around you smile. You were brave, too. Life wasn’t easy, and we didn’t stay in one place for long, yet you never complained. About anything.”

“Were we friends?” Her gaze searched his.

“In a fashion. Given our age difference, I thought of you more as a little sister.”

“Is that how you think of me now?” she said softly.

God help him, what kind of question was that?

He rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, “I should think the answer is obvious.”

Her tremulous smile made him ache with something more than desire. More than he’d ever felt for any female. “If I asked you something, would you tell me the truth?”