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On her better days she told herself it was because they loved her unconditionally. On her darker ones, when she couldn’t believe anyone who truly knew hercouldlove her at all, she’d tell herself they only accepted it as long as they never had to see it. But here it was, and Aurora was as steadfast as ever.
“Ay, Leona,” her friend’s teasing tone brought Manuela up short. “When has being friends with you ever been about comfort?” Aurora teased, then eased the barb by putting an arm around her. “Le Bureau was different,” she asserted, valiantly unflinching even as two women began kissing with extreme ardor just a few feet from them. “This place is for pleasure, that is true, but mostly it’s for women who don’t have a place to be themselves to do so. It’s their haven, their safe place. Above all things, I want the world to be safe for us. These women can nurture a part of you that Luz Alana and I never could, and I am glad that you’ve found a community that can. I want that for you, Leona. A place where you can be your wildest, most Manuela self.”
Tears clouded Manuela’s eyes at the matter-of-fact words from her friend. Aurora didn’t much care what Manuela did, as long as it made her happy, as long as she was safe. “Thank you for saying that,” she said, voice clogged with tears.
Aurora, not one to tolerate any prolonged sentimentality, patted her on the head distractedly while she looked after more platters of her coveted chicken. “If you’re going to cry, do it while you beg one of those servers and kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”
“I will if you admit you secretly love our adventures,” Manuela said with a laugh, before kissing her friend on the cheek.
“I most certainly will not,” Aurora retorted with equal humor, and Manuela’s thoughts drifted once again to the group of women she’d met at Cassandra’s. The way they carried themselves in that parlor, fearlessly. Even Cora, who seemed to always be so sure-footed, seemed different with those women, like she’d put her armor down. That was the safety Aurora spoke about, the security of a place where you didn’t have to pretend. For the last ten years Manuela had been seeking safety too, for her parents, for herself. And though material stability was necessary, she’d never considered how much she needed to feel protected in other ways.
In the last two weeks Cora had given her a taste of that. From that very first time they met and how she caught her fall. At the gallery she’d sat there with Manuela and talked about her art until she remembered that she didn’t need anyone’s approval to know what her work was worth. And then she’d given her the greatest gift of all by introducing her to other women like them.
Bewitching lavender eyes and a hard, lush mouth appeared in her mind, and a pulse of pure, raw longing swept through her like an avalanche. She wasn’t even certain what it was that she wanted; her experience with other women amounted to nothing more than a few heated kisses and clumsy gropes with Catalina. But even those fledgling encounters had been enough to make Manuela crave them for years. The memories of being touched like that, of burning with need for a caress, for a brush of lips kept her warm on many nights, long after Catalina. She wanted to experience it all with Cora.
She ached to be the one to melt the icy duchess.
“Leona! Chicken!” Aurora urged, making Manuela jump. “Where did your mind go?” her friend asked in exasperation. “Don’t tell me. I can guess from those two red splotches on your cheeks.”
“Manuela,” a familiar voice cut through the noise of the crowd as Cassandra Aguzzi Durocher made her way to them accompanied by Frede and another woman. In mere seconds, both Manuela and Aurora were enveloped in a flurry of kisses.
“I am so glad you came!” Cassandra tightened her arms around Manuela. “You managed to escape another of Cora’s lecture on the sapphic habits of spiders?” she joked.
“It was beetles,” Manuela lamented dramatically, which Aurora found absurdly amusing, and even Frede cracked a smile.
“I think we caught a lively one, Claudine!” Cassandra told the taller woman Manuela had not yet been introduced to. As they approached, she noticed that she was being assessed from head to toe. The examination didn’t feel intrusive; it was more as if the woman was confirming something she already knew.
“Indeed.” From only that word Manuela detected a different accent from the Gallic she’d been hearing since her arrival in France—then she remembered that Cassandra told her Claudine was also Brazilian. “Cassie tells me that you are the cause of the duchess’s volatile moods as of late.”
Manuela’s expression must have given her confusion away, because the woman laughed and leaned down to buss her on the cheek. “Don’t fret, chérie, this is the best thing to happen to us in years. My dear duchess has spent too many years dedicated to her schemes and machinations. She needed desperately to be brought to distraction!” Manuela, who was usually more than happy to accept any and all praise, didn’t quite know how to respond to this. “I have not properly introduced myself. I am Claudine Dosantos, the proprietor of Le Chat Tordu.”
“It’s nice to properly meet you, Madame Claudine.” Manuela waved a hand toward Aurora, whose expression had gone from mildly indifferent to utterly rapt since the other women had appeared. “This is my friend, Doctora Aurora Montalban Wright. She’s a physician.”
“Of course.” Cassandra beamed and turned loving eyes toward her quiet lover. “Frede has been dying to meet you.” As usual Aurora did not hesitate to start up a conversation with the shier Frede and was soon plying her with questions on all sorts of things Manuela didn’t understand.
“I heard the wordspeculummentioned, so those two will be busy for a while.” Cassandra grinned as Aurora spoke animatedly to an attentive Frede.
“Tell us everything,” she urged, guiding her to a small table. “Was Cora livid when you told her you were coming here?”
Manuela glanced at the expectant faces, preening internally at the thought of the letter making its way to the duchess at that very moment. “I didn’t exactly tell her to her face...”
Claudine raised a curious eyebrow while Cassandra whirled her hand encouragingly at Manuela.
“I sent her a note letting her know I would be up much too late to be able to ride in the morning, and...” She paused dramatically as the other women waited with bated breath. She wondered just how uncommon it was for someone to contradict the duchess. “I did send my apologies to the horse.” Cassandra laughed so loud, both Frede and Aurora whipped their heads in their direction.
“Oh, Cassie, how long do you think it will take for our Corazón to burst into this place like an avenging angel?” Claudine asked.
Manuela’s heart gave a hopeful thud. “Do you really think she’ll come?” It was impossible not to sound impatient.
Cassandra chuckled, still wiping her eyes, and then sent Manuela a knowing look. “I’d say you should take your run of the place now, my dear, because I suspect your lady in shining armor will be here any moment.”
Thirteen
The conversation with Alfieand Tia Osiris pitched Cora’s thoughts back to the last time a woman had burrowed under her skin like this. She was not prone to digging up old history. She didn’t dwell on her past mistakes; she only looked ahead, applying herself to righting wrongs, instead of wallowing in the past. But as her carriage took her up the hill to Montmartre, she did just that.
It started on the second anniversary of Benedict’s death. She’d been miserable and missed Benedict’s friendship desperately. Even Alfie, who had always been such a sweet boy, had become contrary and withdrawn in his grief. She felt crushed under the pressure of her responsibilities. As though she was constantly giving one hundred percent of herself in every facet of her life, and everyone around her seemed to be receiving barely ten percent.
At Tia Osiris’s insistence she’d gotten on a train to Paris for a few days of rest. Instead she’d installed herself in Le Bureau for two days and two nights of fucking and drinking which had only ended when Frede and Cassandra practically carried her out of the brothel and took her to a salon. There she’d met Sally Fraser.
