Harper nodded, not surprised. "I didn't think your brother would be pleased to have his sister running a brothel." He grinned and tilted his head, asking, "Did he call on Lucian for help with you again?"
"Of course," she said dryly. "When his many letters and a personal visit to try to force me to sell the brothel and come home failed, Lucian was his next ploy. And Lucian even caught a ship and came all the way from the Americas, where he was living. He sailed into England to look into the matter."
"And?" Harper queried, leaning forward with interest.
"He read me, read my girls, and then turned to Stephano and surprised us all by announcing that I was old enough to make my own decisions. I wasn't doing anything wrong. He was proud of what I was doing for these women, and Stephano should be too, but whether he was or not, it was time he stopped interfering and let me be." Drina lowered her head to hide the tears that had swum into her eyes at the memory.
Bloody things, Drina thought. She didn't know why the memory of Lucian's approval made her teary. It was ridiculous really. She stilled when Harper covered her hand on the table and gave it a comforting squeeze.
"He was right."
Drina smiled faintly, and then sighed with disappointment when he withdrew his hand and picked up the wine bottle to pour more of the pale liquid into both their glasses. Setting the now-empty bottle down, he then glanced around, relaxing when their waiter immediately appeared at the table.
"So how long were you a madam?" Harper asked once the waiter had nodded to his request for more wine and slipped away.
She picked up her glass and took a sip before answering. "Quite a while, actually. The women all knew what I was, so my not aging didn't matter. I was never seen entering or leaving the brothel without a veil, and I didn't stay there all the time. I had a big brawny fellow act as bodyguard for the women on occasion so I could travel, and when I traveled, no one knew I was a madam." She shrugged. "Of course, as time passed, some of the girls left, either to marry, or to work a respectable job. One or two saved every penny they made and set out to start their own business, but Beth, Mary, and several others worked until they got too old. Then I shut the doors and bought another, smaller, house, which I turned into a retirement home for the half dozen who remained.
"They were so excited," she recalled with a soft smile. "It was far enough away that they could tell their new neighbors that they were retired widows or whatever they chose. They could be respectable, make new friends among the respectable matrons around them, and enjoy their waning years among the family they'd made in each other."
"It sounds like a happy ending," Harper said, smiling.
"It should have been," Drina agreed, her own smile dying.
Harper stilled, concern entering his expression. "What happened?"
"I set them up, saw them settled, and then left to travel, promising to visit frequently. But it was almost two years before I returned." She shrugged helplessly. "I didn't mean to stay away so long, but time slipped away from me."
"It tends to when you live as long as we do," Harper said, as if trying to mitigate the guilt he could sense in her words. "What happened to your girls?"
"Nothing until just before I returned. According to Beth, they made friends in the area and were all happily enjoying their new home and retirement . . . but then another immortal happened upon the women. His name was Jamieson. I don't know if that was his first or last name. Beth just called him Jimmy." Her mouth tightened. "He was rogue."
"Oh no," Harper murmured, reaching for her hand again.
Drina turned her hand over under his and their fingers closed around each other's, and then she said wearily, "I don't know if he was just passing through the area and came across one of them, read her mind, and saw her history with me, or what, but something made him pick them for victims."
When she paused again, Harper squeezed her fingers gently in sympathy. Drina shook her head, and said tightly, "He installed himself in the house and turned them all the same night in one horrible blood orgy. I guess it was horrendous; screaming old ladies watching each other being bled, and then having his blood forced on them, followed by the convulsions, the agony, the screaming." She shook her head, trying hard not to think about how it must have been for those women she had come to care a great deal for. She continued grimly, "One of the women didn't survive. Her heart couldn't take it, and she died during the turn. But Beth, Mary, and the remaining five survived."
"The one who died may have been the lucky one," Harper muttered, though she saw a haunted look in his eyes and realized she'd inadvertently reminded him of his Jenny.
Trying to pull his attention back from the ghost of his previous life mate, Drina quickly continued, "They woke from the turn confused and terrified, and were informed that now that he'd made them young and beautiful again, he owned them and they would do his bidding."
"He wanted them to prostitute for him?" Harper asked with a frown.
Drina shook her head. "They were to lure mortal men to the house with the promise of sex. But once there, these men would be robbed and fed on until dead."
"Christ," Harper muttered. "He couldn't think to get away with that. Someone would notice the sudden increase in number of missing men in the area."
"Yes, of course, but rogues are generally suicidal and want to be caught and put out of their misery anyway," Drina muttered.
"How did the women react to all of this?" Harper asked with a frown. "Surely they didn't go along with it?"
Drina cleared her throat. "Beth said that none of them wanted to. That Mary stood up to him when he told them his plans."
"Mary the mouthy one," Harper murmured, apparently recalling her earlier words.
"Mary the mouthy one who was too brave for her own good," Drina said quietly. "She told him they wouldn't do it. He could go to hell and they were going to find me and I'd stop him."
"Bet he didn't take that well," Harper guessed, sounding pained.