The Price of Love

by Vicki Hopkins

  “You are bloody kidding me?” he spat. “Is this a joke or does everyone else know?”

  She lifted her eyes and nodded affirmatively. “I told you that it has been a stressful day. I told my mother, father, and the duke. Robert has been privy to that information for quite some time.”

  “You mean Philippe Moreau is your father?”

  “Yes.”

  Geoffrey suddenly leaned over and placed both hands on the armrest of her chair preventing her from moving. “Please leave me alone,” she said, gritting her teeth.

  He guffawed. “I don’t think so, cousin. I don’t take orders—especially from women.”

  Jolene winced and turned her head away from his hot, stale breath. He didn’t appreciate her spurning action. Cautiously, she looked into his eyes. They had turned black like coal, fading the gold speckles.

  “You know your mother is a whore,” Geoffrey announced coolly.

  She leaned back as far as she could in the chair. “I already know she was the duke’s mistress,” she answered in agitation. “I’m aware of their relationship.”

  Geoffrey smirked. He released the armrests and stepped back. “You don’t know, do you?”

  Jolene looked at him cockeyed. “Know what?”

  “You think that you have cleverly put all the pieces into place,” he sneered. “But in the end, you’ve created the wrong picture altogether.”

  “What do you mean?” She angrily jumped up to confront the pompous ass.

  Geoffrey flashed a menacing look in return. Unprepared for his next move, he took a stride toward her and stood flush against her body. His right hand trailed his fingertips down the side of her cheek. She flinched. Irritated over his touch, Jolene tried to sidestep him. She didn’t want to fall back in the chair, lest he corner her helplessly.

  In response, he grabbed her by the waist, coiling his long arm around her like a snake. Then with a quick jerk, he pulled her against his rock-hard frame. He placed the other hand on the back of her head preventing her movement.

  Resisting with all of her strength proved fruitless. She winced in pain. Every squirm she made, he applied more pressure to her neck. Suddenly, he leaned toward her right ear. His hot breath met the side of her face, and he whispered.

  “You think your mother met the duke at the horse races,” he snarled in a sinister tone that gave her a chill. “But he paid to take her virginity as a common whore and prostitute at a brothel called the Chabanais. Your duchess mother is nothing more than the cheapest of whores, who fucked men for money. That is the true story of how they met.”

  The words cut deep. As if she wasn’t already in enough emotional pain, he had sickened her even more. Geoffrey grabbed a fistful of her hair. Gruffly, he pulled her head backward, and Jolene had no choice but to relent. Their eyes met. She trembled under his power.

  “If you would like confirmation, love, I can introduce you to the brothel mistress who knew her twenty years ago. Apparently, my uncle used to fuck her, too, even when he was married to Jacquelyn.”

  Geoffrey kept her head pulled back in a painful strain. Then what she feared the most happened. His eyes turned wicked, glaring at her with heated desire. She felt his erection press against her body.

  “Let me go!” Her voice growled like a cornered animal. It did nothing to stop his advance.

  “What would society in London, Paris, or Vienna think if they knew your mother had been a prostitute in a brothel? No man of respectability would dare to marry you no matter how wealthy you are. You would be an outcast, just like the duke and duchess.” He paused and snickered. “No doubt, you’ll die an old maid because of it.”

  She narrowed her eyes over his threat. “You wouldn’t dare spread such gossip,” she countered. “Your own family would be affected, not just me. Think of the reputation of your parents or cousin for that matter.”

  Geoffrey stared at her with dark intent. “Give me what I want, and I’ll keep my mouth shut about your whore of a mother.”

  He pressed harder against her frame. She squirmed. “No! I demand this instant that you unhand me!”

  Wiggling from his grasp proved useless. She was no match for his strength. Swiftly, he released her hair and put his palm on the back of her head again. Then he pushed her toward his mouth. Geoffrey forcefully kissed her and drove his tongue between her pursed lips. She whimpered over the foul taste of his flesh down her throat. When he had finished, he pulled away.

  “If you don’t give me what I want willingly,” he sneered. “I’ll have to take it without your permission, Cousin.”

  She saw darkness in his eyes and opened her mouth to scream. Anticipating her next move, he clasped his hand over her mouth to silence her and then with the other pressed her downward to the floor until she collapsed on her knees in pain. A second later, he had her pinned to the ground and began clawing at her nightgown.

  After wrestling against his actions, Jolene had lost the battle. He had placed her in the position he wanted. With his free hand, he unfastened his trousers.

  “You know you want it, you slut,” he said.

  To her utter horror, he put himself in a position to violate her body.

  “Like mother, like daughter,” he said coldly.

  Finally, his hand slipped from her mouth. Jolene screamed. She heard heavy footsteps coming toward them, and Geoffrey lifted his head detecting the intruder.

  Jolene could not see who had entered the room, but it didn’t stop her from screeching. “He’s going to rape me!” In a split second, Robert came into view, took hold of Geoffrey, and pulled him from her body.

  “You fucking bastard,” Robert cursed. “I’ll kill you for touching her.”

  Giving Robert no chance, Geoffrey defended himself by throwing the first punch. His clench fist landed on Robert’s lower jaw, sending him reeling backward. Quickly, he recovered and threw a punch back into Geoffrey’s face hitting him in the cheekbone. The two began a vicious brawl.

  Jolene clamored from the floor and stood to her feet. Her hand came to her mouth as she watched in horror the two cousins unleash their hatred toward one another. Punches flew left and right. Tables and lamps tipped over breaking and strewing glass across the floor. Helpless to intervene, Jolene spun around and ran up the staircase. She pounded with her fist upon the duke’s door until it opened. She reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him out the door.

  “Robert and Geoffrey are fighting in the sitting room. Someone is going to get killed!” She could hear the struggle continue downstairs. “Geoffrey tried to rape me,” she explained, to the duke as they ran down the staircase to the sitting room.

  When they reached the door, everything went deadly quiet. Jolene, fearing for Robert’s life, flew into the room first. Robert stood over Geoffrey’s motionless body sprawled across the floor, rubbing his bruised knuckles.

  “I knocked blackguard out,” he declared in triumph.

  Jolene ran to her brother and flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, Robert, I owe you my life,” she cried. She trembled in his arms, and he gave her a hug in return.

  “I told you that I would protect you, Jolene, and I meant it.”

  Geoffrey stirred and moaned. His eyes fluttered open, and the duke strode toward him in anger. He grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and roughly pulled him to his feet. “Get the hell out of here before I kill you myself,” he ordered.

  After rubbing the blood from his split lower lip with the back of his hand, he flashed a detestable gaze at his uncle. “Fine, I’m glad to leave, you arse,” he spat.

  He turned and headed for the door. All the commotion had brought her mother to the scene. When he saw Suzette, he sneered. “Oh look, the prostitute from the Chabanais has arrived.” He lifted the corner of his mouth in a sinister smile. “Your old roomy, Nadine, congratulates you on your fortune.”

  Jolene wanted to throw up. She glanced at her mother, whose eyes widened in not only shock, but also acknowledgement over his comment. The duchess
turned toward Robert, blushing scarlet red.

  The duke strode toward Geoffrey, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him out the doorway. “Get the hell out and don’t come back.”

  Jolene heard the front door open, another short scuffle, and the sound of Geoffrey landing hard on the step outside. “I’ll tell my father, you fucking bastard!”

  The butler appeared, apparently awakened by the ruckus. “Slam the door shut,” the duke ordered. “Gather his things and throw them outside.”

  “With pleasure, Your Grace.”

  She heard the door close with a thud and the lock set. A moment later, the duke returned and hastened to his wife’s side, slipping his arm around her waist.

  “Tell them,” he encouraged her. “They will understand.”

  “Understand what?” Jolene asked. How would she understand anything more when she couldn’t understand her mother? Suzette looked mournfully in her direction and spoke.

  “Just as your brother has apparently saved you from rape, so did my husband, Jolene.”

  “I don’t understand,” she swiftly replied. “Is it true that you were a prostitute in a brothel, and that is how you met?”

  She shook her head affirmatively. “There is so much you do not know, my daughter.” Suzette looked over at Robert grimacing over the well-kept secret.

  “Did you know?” Jolene turned and looked at Robert. He shook his head.

  “No, this is all news to me as well,” he replied.

  “Perhaps the two of you should sit down,” the duke suggested.

  Anxious to hear the story, they both sat side-by-side on the divan. The duke escorted Suzette to a chair, helped her to feel at ease, and then stood behind her in a supportive stance with his hands on both her shoulders.

  Her cheeks remained crimson rose, and her voice trembled when she spoke. “What I shared with you at the cemetery about my father dying when I turned eighteen was the truth.” Sorrowfully, she frowned. “What I did not tell you is that I had been left destitute and homeless afterward. The Sisters of Charity took care of me and then helped me get a job as a laundress here in Paris. One of their clients was the Chabanais, a well-known brothel that catered to aristocrats. I washed their sheets and delivered them daily to the brothel for several months.”

  Jolene glanced at Robert whose face mirrored her own surprise.

  “The mistress of the brothel coerced and blackmailed me into working for her by having me fired from my job.” Suzette reached back and touched the hand of the duke. “Fearful for my life, I succumbed to the temptation rather than having the strength to say no. I agreed to become one of her girls, but I was still a virgin.”

  “Good God, mother,” Robert said. His voice was not judgmental but empathetic.

  The duke looked at his son. “The Chabanais was my playground if you will, for many years,” he confessed. “I came there often and paid for sexual encounters with beautiful women.”

  “So Uncle Edmund’s comment a few weeks ago was true?” He looked at his father in amazement.

  “I’m afraid so. You would have thoroughly enjoyed witnessing the hell I put my own father through, while I procrastinated in taking responsibility for my life.”

  “So you bought her,” Jolene said, hardly able to speak the words.

  Her mother answered. “He paid to take my virginity, yes, for a high price.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Robert responded.

  “Only, I never did—at least, not in the brothel,” the duke clarified. “Your mother had fallen on hard times, but she was sweet and innocent. I purchased her for three nights and led the mistress of the house to think I had done my duty.”

  The duchess continued the sordid tale. By now her blush had faded, and her voice spoke strongly and unashamed. “But she was a shrewd woman who realized what had happened, so she sold me again to a terrible man without Robert’s knowledge. She determined to see me initiated into the brothel and kept in her debt.”

  “All right,” Robert interjected. “Now I am confused.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and holding his weary, bruised head in his hands. “Did that man take your virginity?”

  Suzette tilted her head back and glanced at her husband with a grin. “Robert arrived just as he was about to rape me. He broke the door down, pulled him off my body, and flung him to the floor.”

  The duke smirked. “I wanted to stick a knife in his fat gut, but thankfully I didn’t.”

  Suzette looked at Jolene, tilting her head as if to plead for her understanding. “The rest is history. Yes, I became his mistress and bore him a son out of wedlock, but he came back for me five years later. He loved me and I him.” She patted the duke’s hand still resting on her shoulder. “I don’t know where I would be today if it weren’t for him. No doubt, I would have died a prostitute.”

  Flabbergasted over the story, Jolene didn’t know how to react. She may have found love and happiness with the duke, but her father received nothing but heartache. Didn’t he deserve better? Yes, it was a beautiful love story, but the duchess paid a price, regardless.

  “Father,” Robert asked. “Why didn’t you marry mother after you brought her to England the first time?”

  “Because my father forbade it, of course. He had introduced me to Jacquelyn with the expectation that I would take her as my wife. The arrangements with her parents had already been made. As a rule, especially back then, men never married their mistress. My father was dying, and I wanted to do as he wished.”

  “But you deceived mother, correct?” Jolene accused him angrily.

  “I deceived him, too, Angelique. Don’t you see? I became pregnant with Robert, and Philippe offered his hand to me in marriage to keep me from shame.”

  “So you used him.” Still exasperated over her mother’s actions, she could not reconcile any of it. Her poor father had been a mere pawn. “Did you ever love father?” she pressed with an angry look.

  “Once I did. Philippe and I were engaged to be married long before I met Robert. He had a career as a naval officer. At the time my father passed away, he was at war halfway around the world. Robert came into my life, and I gave him my love and devotion.”

  Robert interrupted. “It’s late,” he said. “Let’s not continue this tonight. We’re all tired, emotionally distraught, and my hand hurts.” He looked at his red and bruised knuckles.

  “Perhaps my brother is right.” She rose to her feet and glanced at her mother. Suzette’s eyes pleaded again for leniency. Not yet, she thought. “Goodnight.”

  As they exited the room, she heard the duke say, “Give her time.”

  Would time help? She had no idea.

  Chapter 30

  A Fork in the Road

  Maria entered the bedroom and pulled aside the drapes letting the daylight filter through the sheer curtains underneath.

  “Oh, dear God,” Jolene moaned. She covered her eyes with her hand. “What time is it?”

  “Almost ten o’clock, my lady,” she announced. “Lord Holland gave me instructions to rouse you from your slumber, though I did protest.”

  “Oh, did he?” Jolene sat up in bed feeling perturb over his instructions. “Why? He knows that I didn’t go to sleep until some ungodly hour last night.” Her palm held the side of her head, and she scrunched her brow in pain. “Besides, I have a splitting headache.”

  Maria gave her a sympathetic look, but ignored her protests by drawing her morning bath. By the pulsating pain, it felt as if she had one too many drinks last night, which of course was not the case. In a sense, she did overdo it, by sharing far too many emotions the day before.

  Then there was the matter of Geoffrey, who made her blood run cold. Hopefully, he had gathered his things that had been tossed out the door and departed for London. She had been such a fool to be so fond of him in the beginning. On the other hand, she thanked her lucky stars that Robert had promised to take care of her safety. What would she do without him when she returned to Austria?
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br />   As she slipped into the hot tub and leaned her head back on the rim, she wondered what the day would bring. A part of her wished she could continue to pretend to be someone else to avoid the new challenges that she faced. On the other hand, she felt a responsibility to become part of the family from which she had been stolen. To achieve that end, she would need to redeem the years away from her parents.

  Unable to hide any longer, Maria helped her with her morning routine by doing her hair and choosing her dress. When she had finished, she took a deep breath and opened the door to her suite.

  Jolene wandered downstairs to the dining room hoping to get a bite to eat and complain to Robert for waking her up. It would have been enjoyable to sleep all day and hide under the covers. Frankly, she was in no mood for anything except a strong cup of coffee to relieve her headache.

  When she arrived, she was surprised to see Suzette sitting alone at the dining table eating a piece of toast. The footman poured a cup of hot tea and set it in front of her. The dark circles under her eyes were signs she did not sleep well either.

  “Where is everyone?” Jolene asked, motioning to a footman. “Can you get me some coffee, please?” Her mother lifted her eyes and smiled. Jolene barely reciprocated with a weak grin.

  “My husband and Robert have left on an outing,” she announced. “I wished them well and sent them on their way.”

  “An outing where? I thought he was the one who told Maria to awaken me from my slumber, and now he is gone?”

  Suzette smiled sensing her morning touchiness. “Yes, they went to see Philippe, I believe.”

  “They what?” A twinge of pain stabbed her head. Jolene discovered a full cup of hot coffee in front of her, mixing it with milk and sugar, before downing the first sip. Hopefully, it would go straight to her brain and stop the incessant pounding.

  “I have my suspicions as to why they went, but they’ve decided not to fill me in at this juncture. No doubt, they don’t want me to have unrealistic expectations of whether they will succeed or not.”