Vivianna realized then that Aphrodite, too, had been up all right.
“Thank you, Dobson,” she whispered.
He touched her arm, his big fingers gentle, and then went to a door across the hall and gave a smart knock. “Miss Vivianna to see you, ma’am. I don’t think she can wait.”
There were steps behind the door, and then a girl with a pretty, sulky face opened it. She winked at Dobson, pouted at Vivianna, and tripped away up the stairs. Aphrodite’s familiar voice came from inside the room.
“Send Miss Greentree in to me, please, Dobson.”
But Vivianna felt as if her feet had taken root. Seeing the other girl had reminded her what this place really was. A high-class brothel, where men came to satisfy their lusts. If, she thought miserably, they could not find a gullible virgin to do it for them.
And yet despite all that, despite her doubts, she knew this was where she had to be. She knew that Aphrodite would understand completely.
And that was what she needed right now.
Understanding.
“You go in, miss,” Dobson said quietly, and his hand was on her arm again, leading her gently toward the door. “You go and tell Aphrodite what’s the matter. She’ll be able to help you.”
Vivianna glanced at him.
Dobson nodded, as if to affirm it, and she took a deep breath before she brushed by him into the room.
It was a smallish and rather insignificant office. But Vivianna was not deceived. There may not be the opulence and the beauty here that was present in the other rooms of the house, but this was the business heart of Aphrodite’s empire. It was from here that she controlled everything.
Aphrodite had been seated at the desk, but now, seeing Vivianna, she rose with a rustle of black skirts. Diamonds shimmered upon her fingers and about her throat. An ebony pendant rested upon the swell of her breasts. Her face seemed to blur and shimmer a little, as if it, too, were a precious stone, and too bright for Vivianna’s eyes. Her dark gaze narrowed and grew sharp.
“Whatever is the matter, mon chou?” she cried. Then, “You have read the diary? Is that it?”
Vivianna hardly heard her. “Miss Aphrodite,” she said, “I need to speak with you. I really do need to speak to you now. I have come from Queen’s Square, and I know I have not made a prior appointment. I know that. But I have to speak to you.”
Aphrodite had reached her side. Her perfume was strong and sweet, and yet somehow comforting. She looked into Vivianna’s face, her sharp eyes searching.
“What is it, Vivianna? Tell me, I am listening. I do not care for appointments and such. Tell me what has happened to you.”
Vivianna drew a breath, and the pain in her heart made her gasp. “Oliver,” she said. “He…Oh!”
The tears came then. Frustrated, Vivianna tried to stem them, to finish her sorry tale, but it seemed that nothing would keep them dammed. She put her face in her hands, but that just made it worse, because she began to sob from deep inside, and the sobs threatened to tear her apart.
Warm arms enveloped her and her face was pressed to a surprisingly fragile shoulder. She felt a kiss to her temple and a hand patted her back, as if she were a little girl again. And all the while Oliver’s perfidy was creating havoc inside her.
“Oh, dear girl,” whispered Aphrodite. “Poor child. What is it? What has this cochin done to you? Tell me now or I will think the worst.”
“It is…it is the worst!”
“That you have lost your heart?”
“No,” sobbed Vivianna, “no, I have lost my virginity.”
Aphrodite stroked her hair and gave a little laugh. “Ah. Well, I do not think that is the worst, mon chou. I thought that was what you wanted.”
“I did!” Vivianna gasped. “It was w-wonderful. He—he was w-wonderful. And then he told me that it had all been a game. He wasn’t really a rake at all, but he is involved in some deep plot and he was simply trying to frighten me away.”
“He didn’t seem to be trying terribly hard, mon chou….”
“But don’t you see? He lied to me! All this time, he lied! And then when I asked him for my one night with a r-rake, he agreed, and all the time he was lying and probably laughing at me behind my back!”
Her voice ended on a wail of rag