does have fine clothes. Satin waistcoats. Wool suits. I always thought it was part of the uniform required to work here. I didn’t realize that he was so well compensated.”
“It is a requirement of the position, but you’ve got it all wrong. He doesn’t simply work here. He’s part owner of Victoria House.” Correctly reading the shocked expression on his face, she said, “You’re surprised.”
“A little.”
“It’s understandable. Everyone assumes I’m the sole owner and we let them think that because it’s easier. When we first arrived here... Well, let’s just say that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Able.” That was an understatement. She’d be dead by now if not for Able. It was because of him that she’d left South Carolina and ended up in Helena, though the Helena part had been serendipity. “Able and I worked hard together to make Victoria House what it is today. When the madam retired she left it to us both.”
While Glory kept up the running of the business side of things, Able took care of the house itself. He knew everyone in it and where they were at any given time. He made sure there was never any trouble with the patrons. The letter must be a particular sore spot for him since it had appeared on his watch.
Zane studied her for a minute. There was no doubt that he was merely trying to read her expression, but she couldn’t help but wonder what he thought when he looked at her. She stilled for his visual perusal but felt her cheeks go warm. Finally he took pity on her and glanced back down at the letter. She had to stop herself from letting out an audible breath of relief.
“The sender mentioned knowing your real name.” Zane paused, but she didn’t say a word. If he wanted to ask her about her real name, she wouldn’t make it easy for him. Not that she’d tell him. The corner of his mouth ticked up as if he realized what she was doing. “Does Able also have a real name?” he asked, apparently deciding not to rise to her challenge.
She nearly laughed to herself, starting to enjoy this play between the two of them. “He does. We never really intended to stay in Helena. The stagecoach we were traveling on had a broken axle. We managed to make it as far as the station, but there’d been another silver strike, so the driver ran off to make his fortune. Apparently so had every other man in town, because the madam came down to the station asking for any able-bodied men to help repair her leaky roof.”
She did smile then, remembering how afraid she’d been that they had nowhere to go and their funds had been dwindling. They’d come a long way since then. “Able stood up and declared himself, well, able. So Able he became. She took us in after that. Thank God she did. We had nowhere else to go.”
“And you became Glory?” He gestured toward her hair.
She inclined her head. The madam had taken one look at her dark red hair and called it her crowning glory. Many of the patrons had started referring to it that way as well, so the name Glory had stuck.
“And no one else knows your real name except Able?” he concluded.
“Able didn’t leave this letter.”
Zane gave a hesitant nod, as if not quite willing to give up that line of questioning, but realizing it wouldn’t get him anywhere at the moment. She nearly smiled again. Let him stew. The one thing she knew with certainty in this whole mess was that Able wasn’t responsible for the letter. Extortion wasn’t in his character.
“Do you think it could be someone else from Victoria House?” he asked.
“I hate to think so. We’re like a family here. My ladies are loyal.”
“And you’re certain none of them know who you are?”
“None of them know,” she said quietly. “Only Able.”
“Well, I suppose that’s it then. We’ll see what we can find out from the staff tomorrow.” He clapped his hands to his knees and made to stand.
“What happens now?” she asked. If they were done with questions, she needed to go back downstairs to finish work for the night. The singer she’d hired for the evening should be almost ready to go on. “I have work to do, but you’re welcome to go collect your things and move them to my suite.”
He gave a shake of his head and a slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I go where you go.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. She knew what she thought he meant, but surely he didn’t actually mean that.
“I don’t trust whoever left this not to try to get to you. Able or I need to be with you at all times.”
His words nearly knocked the wind out of her. “At all times? Even in my own house?”
His smile widened as if he was enjoying this. “Get used to me, Glory. I’m going to be around. A lot.”
Sweet Lord above, she was in trouble.
* * *
The main lounge was the largest room in the house. It had been intended as a ballroom with a large chandelier gracing the ceiling in the center of the sizable space, flanked by two smaller ones on either side. They were the only original feature of the house left behind when the owner had sold it to the previous madam. The slivers of faceted glass, not crystal, flickered in the light of hundreds of candles, making it look like crystal. When the town had changed over to electricity several years earlier, Glory had opted not to change the chandelier. She loved the antique feel. Sometimes she closed her eyes and imagined she was in a grand London ballroom and a handsome gentleman would sweep her up into a waltz. But then she’d open her eyes to realize she was in Helena, where the gentlemen were in short supply. They might say all the right words, but they were all only interested in things that sparkled—gold, silver and copper—and she couldn’t afford to forget that. Maybe that’s how all men became once they reached a certain level of wealth. She couldn’t honestly say for sure. She’d lived in her cocoon at Victoria House since she was sixteen.
The one thing she did know for sure was that even if a proper gentleman from London were to walk in, he’d have little interest in a brothel madam. Well, little interest beyond the physical. Not that it mattered to her. She’d had her chance at marriage and it hadn’t worked out. Now she knew that it wasn’t something that interested her. She liked her independence too much to ever give it up. It meant a lot of lonely nights, but the payoff was worth it.
The song ended, bringing Glory back to the present as the room broke out into polite applause. She smiled as she took to the dais to thank Sally and address the crowd. “I’d like to extend my thanks once again to Mrs. Sally Roarke for gracing our little corner of the world with her beautiful voice.”
The older lady inclined her head, and the men applauded again coupled with a few suggestive whistles. Sally was a favorite at Victoria House and made the trip about twice a year from St. Louis where she lived. None of the men seemed to realize she was the same Mary Walker who had worked here years before Glory had taken over.
When Sally had given a curtsy and waved her way out, Glory addressed the room again. “That’s all the entertainment for the night, gentlemen. The house will be closing soon, so please make your final drink selections.”
There were ten women working upstairs tonight. Most of them seemed to have already found patrons for the evening, but a couple were talking to men in the lounge. When Glory had taken over she’d brought in plush sofas and
