Chapter 1
I smooth down my dress, making sure there aren't any wrinkles in it. While the style is different from the dresses Lady Catherine wears, I try to keep to her colour palette when I'm dressing. She always looks so elegant and a small part of me always wants to emulate her style. But I wasn't born five hundred years ago. I can't get comfortable in the same wide sweeping skirts and tight bodices as she is.
At a hundred years old, I'm more used to the sparkling diamantes, tall feathers, and loose-fitting dresses of the jazz age. I just choose to wear them in more striking shades of red and black.
I enter the room with my head held high and my hips swaying invitingly. Years of practice mean I'm well aware of the effect they have on people. Especially men, but not exclusively. I have been known to take on female clients from time to time.
"You called for me, Lady Catherine?" I ask, lowering my voice as I speak.
A wry smile tugs at the corners of Catherine's lips. She knows what I'm doing. She's the one who taught me many of my tricks. Though I don't think she enjoys using them as much as I do.
"I did, a Lord Melberry is in the other room, he wants to talk to you about a proposition."
My eyes widen. Julian. What's he doing here? The last place I ever thought I'd run into my brother's best friend is the Black Fan. Most men just say that visiting courtesans isn't their thing, but with Julian, he always means it.
"Is everything okay?" I ask hastily, forgetting the persona I've put on for the clients.
She nods. "I believe so. He asked for you specifically, though."
"Do you know what he wants?"
"He wouldn't say. That's up to you to get out of him."
I grimace. That doesn't sound fun. Most of the jobs are run through Catherine first. She likes to make sure everyone is properly vetted and isn't about to do something horrible. Julian isn't even a client.
Catherine reaches out and places a hand on my arm, giving it a quick squeeze. "I know the family from when I was back at court. The daughter debuted at the same time as me. They were a good family."
"You debuted with Lady Elisa?" I blurt, thinking of Julian's disapproving Mother. She always looked down her nose at me and my brother. In her mind, we came from new money, and that never lasts.
I suppose for me, it didn't. My parents cut me off when I became a courtesan. Apparently, they don't approve of my career choice. Which is fine. I don't approve of everything they do anyway.
"I did. It feels strange to think of her now. But she was always kind to me."
That doesn't sound like the woman I know, but I let it slide. "Why did you let him in?" I glance at the door to the other room as I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
"A gut feeling," she admits. "And he knew your full name. Most people don't."
True. I've gone to great lengths to make sure no one knows my family name, mostly to protect them. Though I suspect they don't care.
"If you don't want to go in there, you don't have to. I can get rid of him for you."
I shake my head. "It's fine. He was still a good man last I heard, I can talk to him."
"I'll be waiting in the kitchen in case you need me, though. Just press the button."
"Thank you." I smile at her, truly grateful for what she's offering. From what I've heard, several of the Madams in the city wouldn't be as concerned with my wellbeing as Catherine is. She's cut from a different cloth than some of the hardened women in this industry, which is surprising given that she's spent as long as she has being sold for her body. From the whispers I've heard around the brothel, not all of it had been as voluntary as the situation she has going here.
"It's no problem. Be safe, Bindi." She turns on her heels and sweeps out of the room, her long belled skirt swinging behind her.
A sigh escapes me. Her wardrobe is truly exquisite.
But I'm not here to study what my boss is wearing. I'm here to see someone I haven't in at least thirty years. I didn't even know he was inside the city walls.
I stride over to the full-length mirror that sits in the corner of the waiting room, mostly for moments like this. I study my reflection and smooth out my dress again to make sure it's perfect. I'm not sure why I'm bothering with all of this. Julian knows what I look like.
Except, that isn't completely true. Despite my teenage crush on him, he's ten years my senior. It isn't so much of a problem now we're over a hundred, but back when I was first becoming a woman, the age gap was too much. He'll only ever have thought about me as his best friend's baby sister.
If he ever thought about me at all, which somehow, I doubt. An attractive man like him won't have had any shortage of female company.
With a final bite of my upper lip, I prepare myself to face him.
Though what he's here for is still a mystery to me.
Chapter 2
I push the door open, ignoring the nerves fluttering away in my stomach. I haven't seen Julian in years, and can't work out what he's up to. It isn't like him to suddenly show up like this. I've never seen him in the Black Fan.
Thankfully, I haven't seen my brother here either, but I doubt that's because he doesn't go to brothels. He's just trying to avoid me like the rest of my family.
The moment I step into the room, I'm transported back nearly a century. Julian is as frozen in time as I am. As handsome and youthful as he's ever been. But there's something in his eyes. Like he's wise beyond his looks.
Which he no doubt is. We may stop ageing, but we never stop growing and learning. It's what makes the oldest vampires the most formidable.
"Julian." I greet him with a small nod of my head.
"Belinda, you look as beautiful as ever," Julian proclaims, opening his arms to give me a hug, but then thinking better of it.
"Only Mother calls me that anymore," I point out. Though it's technically a lie. She doesn't call me anything if she doesn't have to.
"So what shall I call you?"
I shrug. "Most people call me Bindi."
"Bindi," he tries it out, rolling it around his mouth. "It suits you."
A warmth spreads through me at his words, but I push it away. His opinion doesn't mean anything to me, and I shouldn't pretend that it does.
"What are you doing here, Julian? This doesn't seem like your kind of establishment." It's best if I cut straight to the point. The less we mess around with politeness instead of the truth of the matter, the better.
He runs his hand through his dark red hair and gives out an uncomfortable laugh. "I have a proposition for you."
"Then it's a good job I'm used to those."
Shock crosses his face.
I raise an eyebrow. "I'm a courtesan, Julian," I remind him.
He gives an exasperated sigh. "I know that. It's why I came to you."
It's my turn to be surprised. "What exactly are you after?"
I gesture to the cosy sofa at the side of the room with the intention that we'll sit. I'm not sure what makes me choose that and not the table which will put more distance between us. Perhaps it's simply that a part of me trusts him.