moment. I will see you later, George. I must go and mingle."
She disengaged her hand and strolled toward the main red and gold decorated salon, where a stream of people had begun to pour through the double doorway. As she walked, she nodded at those who greeted her and kissed her fingers to some of the younger men.
It seemed that in her absence, everything had gone well. Her staff was well trained, and Judd oversaw everything perfectly.
"Madame Helene."
A familiar voice and an even more familiar smile made her pause. A man emerged from the press of people and bowed. His golden hair glinted in the candlelight; his black coat and white linen were impeccably cut.
Helene extended her hand. "Gideon, how are you?"
"I'm very well and so is Antonia." He looked around the rapidly filling room. "She's here somewhere. I'll tell her to come and make her bow to you later." He beckoned to a tall gentleman standing just inside the door. "There's someone I'd like you to meet. My father asked me to sign him in as my guest."
Helene's gracious smile froze on her lips as the man walked toward her. The noise and chatter disappeared, leaving her in a frightening empty void of pure emotion. When their eyes met, she wasn't sure if she was offended or relieved by the total lack of recognition in his gaze.
"This is Mr. Philip Ross." Gideon smiled. "He's recently inherited some fancy new title, but to my shame, I can't remember exactly what it is."
Helene moistened her lips with her tongue. "Mr. Ross, you are most welcome."
"Madame."
He took her cold hand, enfolded it within his, and brushed his lips over her skin with stiff, unenthusiastic propriety.
"Are you staying in London for long, sir?"
"It depends. I have some business to attend to. I'm not sure how long it will take."
Hopefully not very long, Helene prayed. The Fates were definitely conspiring against her.
Thank God the twins weren't around. She frantically checked the crowd. It would be just like them to sneak into the packed salon without her realizing it.
"Madame?"
She forced her attention back to Philip Ross, noticed for the first time that he wore the dark somber colors of mourning and that his face was dour and unsmiling. In contrast to the flowing locks of his youth, his hair was now cut brutally short, accentuating the hard angles of his cheekbones. Would she have recognized him if Gideon hadn't introduced him by name? He bore little to no resemblance to the laughing elegant man she remembered from eighteen years before.
She mustered a smile. "I beg your pardon, monsieur. Would you care for some refreshments?"
"No, thank you."
Helene caught Gideon's amused and speculative gaze. He'd probably never seen her quite so distracted before. She forced another smile. "It was a pleasure to meet you, sir. I hope you enjoy your evening."
Gideon looked disappointed. "But, madame, I promised Philip that as my guest, you would give him a personal tour of the premises."
"Did you?" Helene narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm sure Mr. Ross would rather spend his evening with you."
"On the contrary, madame. Who better to show me around than the woman who created such an unusual establishment?"
Helene glanced sharply up at Philip Ross, who appeared to be smiling despite the dismissive bite of his words. She curtsied and raised her chin.
"I'd be delighted to show you around, sir. Gideon is right. I am extremely proud of this pleasure house."
He placed her hand on his sleeve and nodded at Gideon. "Thank you for the introduction.
Perhaps I will see you at White's tomorrow."
Gideon bowed and winked at Helene. "The introduction was my pleasure. Madame Helene holds a very special place in my affections."
"Indeed."
There was no mistaking the sarcasm in Philip's voice this time.
Gideon raised his eyebrows. "I met my wife here. I'm sure madame will tell you all the details."
"I'm sure she will."
Gideon turned and went back toward the doorway, where a younger man stood waiting for him.
She disengaged her hand and strolled toward the main red and gold decorated salon, where a stream of people had begun to pour through the double doorway. As she walked, she nodded at those who greeted her and kissed her fingers to some of the younger men.
It seemed that in her absence, everything had gone well. Her staff was well trained, and Judd oversaw everything perfectly.
"Madame Helene."
A familiar voice and an even more familiar smile made her pause. A man emerged from the press of people and bowed. His golden hair glinted in the candlelight; his black coat and white linen were impeccably cut.
Helene extended her hand. "Gideon, how are you?"
"I'm very well and so is Antonia." He looked around the rapidly filling room. "She's here somewhere. I'll tell her to come and make her bow to you later." He beckoned to a tall gentleman standing just inside the door. "There's someone I'd like you to meet. My father asked me to sign him in as my guest."
Helene's gracious smile froze on her lips as the man walked toward her. The noise and chatter disappeared, leaving her in a frightening empty void of pure emotion. When their eyes met, she wasn't sure if she was offended or relieved by the total lack of recognition in his gaze.
"This is Mr. Philip Ross." Gideon smiled. "He's recently inherited some fancy new title, but to my shame, I can't remember exactly what it is."
Helene moistened her lips with her tongue. "Mr. Ross, you are most welcome."
"Madame."
He took her cold hand, enfolded it within his, and brushed his lips over her skin with stiff, unenthusiastic propriety.
"Are you staying in London for long, sir?"
"It depends. I have some business to attend to. I'm not sure how long it will take."
Hopefully not very long, Helene prayed. The Fates were definitely conspiring against her.
Thank God the twins weren't around. She frantically checked the crowd. It would be just like them to sneak into the packed salon without her realizing it.
"Madame?"
She forced her attention back to Philip Ross, noticed for the first time that he wore the dark somber colors of mourning and that his face was dour and unsmiling. In contrast to the flowing locks of his youth, his hair was now cut brutally short, accentuating the hard angles of his cheekbones. Would she have recognized him if Gideon hadn't introduced him by name? He bore little to no resemblance to the laughing elegant man she remembered from eighteen years before.
She mustered a smile. "I beg your pardon, monsieur. Would you care for some refreshments?"
"No, thank you."
Helene caught Gideon's amused and speculative gaze. He'd probably never seen her quite so distracted before. She forced another smile. "It was a pleasure to meet you, sir. I hope you enjoy your evening."
Gideon looked disappointed. "But, madame, I promised Philip that as my guest, you would give him a personal tour of the premises."
"Did you?" Helene narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm sure Mr. Ross would rather spend his evening with you."
"On the contrary, madame. Who better to show me around than the woman who created such an unusual establishment?"
Helene glanced sharply up at Philip Ross, who appeared to be smiling despite the dismissive bite of his words. She curtsied and raised her chin.
"I'd be delighted to show you around, sir. Gideon is right. I am extremely proud of this pleasure house."
He placed her hand on his sleeve and nodded at Gideon. "Thank you for the introduction.
Perhaps I will see you at White's tomorrow."
Gideon bowed and winked at Helene. "The introduction was my pleasure. Madame Helene holds a very special place in my affections."
"Indeed."
There was no mistaking the sarcasm in Philip's voice this time.
Gideon raised his eyebrows. "I met my wife here. I'm sure madame will tell you all the details."
"I'm sure she will."
Gideon turned and went back toward the doorway, where a younger man stood waiting for him.
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