Madame’s fingers sh
ook as she fixed the squirrel pelt with a pin to her coiffure. “Tomorrow, I’ll see to your wardrobe, and the next day you’ll be heading north to spend a week in a cottage in the country.”
“With Lord Harkom?” It was all Faith could think to say.
“Don’t be ridiculous. What do you suppose all that business just now was about? No, you’re going to the Cotswolds.”
True to her word, it was Madame herself who, the next day, personally oversaw the petticoats, stockings, shoes, bonnets, and gowns Faith would take with her to her unusual destination.
And, all brand new.
“Am I going to see Mr Westaway?” Faith asked. “Did he request that I come?”
“Mrs Gedge will tell you what you need to know.”
Madame did not speak with her usual aplomb, and Faith suspected the previous evening’s events had discomposed her, too.
Her friend Charity confirmed it as she took over the more menial task of folding ribbons and seeing that Faith’s jewellery, simple pieces, were properly secured in their velvet boxes.
“Serves her ladyship right for selling you to the biggest brute that’s ever crossed this threshold. And for your first time, too!” Her scorn was apparent, and when Faith stared, open-mouthed, she went on, “There’s nothing that woman won’t do if enough coin crosses her palm. It wasn’t just Anastasia he hurt, though I couldn’t say it to you last night. Lydia and Ruby had bruises for days after their sessions with the beast, and while Madame banned him for a month, I suppose she couldn’t refuse him when he offered her such a bounty for supposedly the newest and loveliest virgin in town.”
Faith sat heavily on the bed. “He must have come offering just moments after Mrs Gedge said she no longer wanted me.”
“Oh, it was Lady Vernon who told Madame that you were no longer any use to Mrs Gedge. I think the old cat thought she could make a pretty penny on the side by selling you out.”
“Lady Vernon?” Faith gasped, clenching her fists. “By God, I’ll scratch her eyes out.”
“It was Lady Vernon who came hurrying over just an hour later to say there’d been a new development, and that you were suddenly required by Mrs Gedge to go to the Cotswolds,” Charity said. “Perhaps she only wanted to frighten you.”
“How could Lady Vernon do such a thing? She’s so…old and…poor.”
“She needs money. Exactly. And she’s ruthless, and you are nothing but a means of keeping food in that skinny belly of hers and a roof over her head. So, when you spend your enchanted week with Mr Westaway, I’d be far more distrustful of Lady Vernon than your young man who seems quite harmless.” Charity folded another petticoat and dropped it on top of a pile of folded underwear lying in Faith’s carpetbag. Seeing Faith’s look of concern, she smiled. “Don’t worry, Faith, Mr Westaway will think you’re quite delightful; I’m sure of it. I’ve seen him, and he has a pleasant manner. He’s not the kind who pushes his weight around to prove he’s better than his peers and want to show the likes of us just how important he is. I think he’ll be kind to you.”
“He’s been here?”
“Lord, no!” Charity laughed. “I’ve asked around and he doesn’t frequent establishments such as ours. In fact, he’s not been associated with any young woman whom anyone knows about so perhaps Mrs Gedge will be disappointed in her grand designs by finding his tastes run more to the Greek.”
Faith put her hand to her mouth. “He doesn’t fancy women?”
Charity shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps he likes both. Perhaps he’s a virgin, and you’ll have to be the one to show him what to do.”
Faith stared at her shoes. Her encounter with Lord Harkom, so fresh and horrifying, had made her feel vulnerable and powerless in a way that being Mrs Gedge’s pawn never had. Ever since she’d come under Mrs Gedge’s thumb, Faith had been quietly confident she would one day outwit the older woman. Yet in only a few minutes, Lord Harkom had used his brute strength to subdue her. Not only would he be able to subdue her, physically, any time he wanted, the frightening reality was that in the world in which Faith lived, his money sanctioned any amount of brutality.
“How will I do that when I don’t know what to do?” she asked.
Charity laughed as she sat on the bed beside Faith and hugged her briefly. “What a question when you’ve lived in this place so long,” she said. “You’ve seen the living displays. Besides, haven’t you ever put your eye to a peephole in all these years?”
“Of course not! And I block my ears if I have to.” Faith shuddered, and Charity put her hand to Faith’s chin and turned her head so she could look into her eyes, saying quite seriously now, “Have you really been able to live at London’s most notorious, high-class brothel for three years and block out everything that goes on here?”
“I know what happens…physically. But that’s very different from everything else.”
“Don’t let your encounter with Lord Harkom colour your feelings.” Charity was matter of fact now. “He’s a well-known brute and granted, there are a few like him. But mostly, the men are respectful, even if they’re self-absorbed and think only of their own pleasure.” Her smile broadened. “Sometimes it’s even possible to fall in love with a kind regular. That is, when he brings you gifts, and fills your ears with sweet ones, telling you you’re the only one. Making you believe him when he says that one day he’ll take you away to a new life.”
“Do you really believe that, Charity?” Faith felt sad for her friend. Glad that she could enjoy the brief pleasure of being in love, but sad that her love was doomed.
“Of course, I know not to believe it,” Charity added quickly. “It’s words only. But it makes the act tolerable. No, it makes it a pleasure.”
“A pleasure? For a woman? But what pleasure is there?” Faith was now more troubled by the possibility that she might have some feeling unleashed in her than by the mechanics of what she’d long resigned herself to. Tonight had made everything a sudden, horrible reality.