Page 16 of My Highland Rogue
“For decency’s sake?”
Maggie didn’t say anything for a moment, making Ellen wonder if she had pushed too much.
Finally, the other woman nodded, just once.
“He’ll still be responsible for paying his own markers, Mrs. Thornton. I wouldn’t expect youto do that. However, a certain situation did arise concerning one of our hostesses. It would be best, perhaps, if Harrison remained away from the club for a while. Just to let things settle.”
Although she was curious, Ellen told herself not to ask. Harrison was already possessed of a lamentable character. She really didn’t want to know that he’d done something untoward to a young woman. Or even engaged in an adulterous affair.
“So, you will send him home, then?”
“Yes, I will.”
“Will he listen to you?” Unsaid were the words—because you’re a woman.
Maggie smiled again, but this expression was not as amused.
“I speak for the owner. Every member here knows that. If Harrison disputes my words, I do have the ability to throw him out on his ear, earl or not.”
The words were spoken in a delicate voice, but Ellen heard the steel in her tone.
She was beginning to like the woman more and more. Perhaps even enough to overlook the fact that, next to Maggie, she was rendered exceedingly plain.
“What a pity that we won’t get to know each other better,” she said. “I think I should like you very much.”
“Never discount the future, Mrs. Thornton. Perhaps circumstances will arrange themselves.”
She had been in the woman’s company less than an hour, but she already suspected that whatever Maggie wanted, Maggie got.
That thought led to another: exactly who was the owner of the Mayfair Club? He must be an extraordinarily talented man and one imminently secure in himself. Otherwise, Maggie would’ve had him for breakfast.
Chapter Six
Gordon remained with his father, sitting on the ladder-back chair as Sean fell asleep.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” a voice said.
He turned to see a girl standing in the doorway, a white apron over her dress. Her hair was caught up in a bun that had come loose, spilling bright red curls over one shoulder.
“Who would you be, sir?” she asked softly, after casting a glance in Sean’s direction.
“Gordon McDonnell,” he said, standing and moving to the door. “Sean’s son.”
She bobbed a curtsy, spreading out the apron like it was a ball gown.
“Pardon me for asking, sir. It’s just that he’s under my care.”
They left the room, Gordon closing the door behind him.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong with him?”
She seemed torn, looking at the closed door then back at him.
“It’s a cancer, sir. The doctor says it’s in the bowels.”
Her face pinked up as she spoke, making Gordon wonder if she’d been a nurse for very long.
“What is your name?”
