Innocence (21 page)

Sally’s scowl deepened. “Don’t know nothin’ about no myri . . . meeria . . . wothaveye. But ye can ask if ye like.”
 

“You mentioned your cousin works in a brothel, and I was wondering what happens there? What does a
whore
actually do?”
 

Both girls gaped, and Lisa’s heart sank. She already suspected she wasn’t going to like the answer, but she feared it must be even worse than she had imagined.

“Sally?” she prompted.

“Wot the ’ell ye want to know about them things for?”
 

The truth was required if Lisa was to receive the information she needed. So she told them about the incident with Nathaniel’s cousin and friends, shyly alluding to what had preceded it.

“Lord Marsden promised he won’t let anyone else touch me, but the other lordships seemed convinced he will eventually tire of me, and once that occurs, I’ll be passed off to another gentleman or to work in a brothel.”

“Bleedin’ ’eck.” Sally let out a slow breath.

“At least Lord Marsden told the other lords not to touch ye,” Ruth said encouragingly.

“Yeah, but ’ow much trust can ye put in the promise of a toff?” Sally voiced the question that troubled Lisa’s thoughts.

“Which is why I want to know what the lordships were talking about,” she said. “I should have told you girls of my ignorance regarding Lord Marsden’s intentions earlier, but I didn’t realise how little I knew.”

“Aye. It’s hard to know ’ow iggerent ye are when yer the one that don’t know nothing.” Sally pulled a face.

“Precisely.” Lisa nodded after taking a moment to decipher Sally’s convoluted phrasing. “So will you tell me what those words mean?”
 

The girls exchanged a look.
 

“A brothel is a place where girls work earning money for the codger wot owns it by servicing the men that come there to get their jollies.”

“Servicing?”
 

“Yeah, on their back. Ye know.” Sally shrugged. “Spreadin’ their legs for the fellas who pay to get on top.”

Lisa gasped. “You mean . . . you mean the girls are paid to
lay
with the men?”

She took Sally’s shrug as confirmation and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.

“So the girl doesn’t
know
the man beforehand? She is expected to lay with a different man every night?”
 

Sally snorted. “Not just one fella. Try about ten.”

Lisa frowned. “Ten different men in one night?”

“Every damned night, or so me cousin told me when she ran away once. She wos only ’ome a couple of days afore they got ’er and dragged ’er back.”
 

Sally’s words and the horrifying pictures they conjured followed Lisa as she ran for the water closet at the end of the hallway. It seemed a wise move when it became apparent the contents of her stomach would be making an unwelcome appearance.

The girls followed, Ruth crouching beside her and holding a few loose strands of hair back from Lisa’s face while her insides heaved.

“Is she up the duff?” Sally asked.

Ruth shook her head. “Lord Marsden only had ’er for the first time last night.”

“And again this morning in his study, the lucky cow.” Sally grumbled, as Lisa wiped her mouth with the edge of her skirt.

After helping her walk unsteadily back to the workroom, the girls focused on polishing the silverware in front of them while Lisa regained her composure . . . as best she could.

“A
whore
is the name given to girls who work in such places?” she asked when she felt up to speech.

“And a whole lot of other nasty names,” Sally said. “Girls who sell their bodies for a livin’ don’t always work in brothels. Sometimes they work out of alehouses or off the street, but there’s always some fella lordin’ it over ’em and keepin’ most of the dosh.”

“But why would a girl choose such a horrid profession?”
 

The look Sally gave her told Lisa she thought her question was particularly stupid.

“Nobody
chooses
the life. Half of them got took right off the street when they wos just girls, thirteen or fourteen if they were lucky. But once ye’ve been took, there ain’t no goin’ ’ome.”

“What? But that’s . . . that’s . . .”

“The law, as long as the girl’s no younger than ten,” Ruth said.

Lisa stared disbelieving. “What do you mean, the law?”
 

“Age of consent, they call it.” Sally grimaced. “As long as the girl’s ten, the fellas ain’t doin’ nuffin’ wrong. She’s
supposed
to give her permission before,
ye know
, but nobody worries about that. Not like no one would listen if she complained.”
 

Both girls shrugged, and Lisa stared from one to the other.

“But they’re just
children
. Little girls. Does the King know? The House of Lords? Surely, if somebody in power knew, they would change the law.”

“Oh, they know, all right. ‘Tis the bleedin’ lords in Parliament that make the rules. They don’t want anything changed ’cos it suits ’em. Most of ’em like their girls young, the younger the better.”

“Not
all
the lords are like that, surely?” Lisa fought to keep her stomach from heaving again. “Not the Duke or Lord Marsden?”

“No, not them.”
 

Ruth’s ready agreement was a balm to Lisa’s battered soul.
 

“I think that’s one of the changes His Grace is fighting for with them new laws he’s trying to get passed along with stopping people being sold as slaves. Raising the age of consent.”

“Never bleedin’ ’appen,” Sally interjected.

“At least His Grace and Lord Marsden are
trying
to change things with that alliance they’re a part of,” Ruth said.

Lisa’s relief at the knowledge Nathaniel was both opposed to such dreadful practices and working to change the laws that perpetuated them was profound. But it didn’t change the awful reality she was only just becoming aware of.

“But how can a girl be forced to work in such a manner? What about the girl’s family, her parents? Don’t they get a say?”

“Sometimes it’s the girl’s family wot sold her for a few coins in the first place.” Sally shrugged. “The brothel owners ain’t idiots. They don’t take girls from families that’ll make too much fuss. If they do, they don’t put ’em to work straight away in case the family’s got money to buy ’em back, but that don’t usually happen. Even if the girl ain’t been used yet, the damage is already done, if ye know wot I mean.”

Lisa did indeed and nodded absently. It was as if the world she had been raised in was a fairytale and reality a dark and terrifying place.

“Older girls sometimes take up the trade ’cos they got no other way to keep from starvin’ to death,” Sally continued.

“Are there no alternatives for a girl without support?” Lisa braced herself in anticipation of the answer.

“She gets into service, if she’s lucky, and hopes like ’ell the master of the ’ouse ain’t too evil a bugger. Otherwise, it’s a whorehouse or the poorhouse, and they’re both about as bad as each other.”
 

“Oh, dear.”

Ruth reached to place a hand over Lisa’s trembling fingers.

“Don’t worry. That won’t happen to ye. Lord Marsden said he’ll take care of ye, didn’t he?”

She nodded shakily.

“Well, ye don’t have anything to worry about then, do ye?”

“Nothing at all,” Lisa whispered, thinking of the many things she needed to speak with Nathaniel about now that she finally—
finally—
understood the dangers she faced. As if the mere thought of one day having to live without him wasn’t terrifying enough.

Chapter 18

Discovery

In stark contrast to the horrifying revelations of the day, Lisa spent the remainder of the afternoon being fitted for one beautiful gown after another.
 

“The styles are no longer in the latest mode, but the fabrics and trims are of the highest quality, my lady, I mean, miss, I mean . . .”

“Just call me Lisa,” she told the stammering seamstress.
 

“It’s ’cos she knows she’ll ’ave to answer to Lord Marsden if she upsets ye,” Ruth explained after serving Lisa’s afternoon tea. “The ’ousehold’s in a right tizz. Lord Marsden overheard Lady Cahill telling Lord Cahill to ’ave ye banished from the ’ouse. She ain’t too ’appy about ye bein’ set up as Lord Marsden’s mistress right under her nose.” Ruth pulled a face. “Anyway, Lord Cahill told ’er ’e didn’t want to interfere, something about some prime ’orse flesh bein’ at stake. Then Lord Edgeley told her not to worry ’cos once Lord Marsden tired of ye, ’e was going to take ye off his ’ands and teach ye some tricks. Ye wouldn’t like them, believe me.”

At Lisa’s sharp intake of breath, Ruth patted her hand.
 

“Ye don’t need to worry, ’cos straight after that, Lord Marsden burst in and punched Lord Edgeley in the face. Gave ’im a terrible black eye, ’e did. Then ’e told Lord Edgeley ’e wasn’t welcome at Worthington Hall any longer, and that if any rumours surfaced about Lord Marsden acquiring a red-haired mistress, ’e’d know who to blame and would challenge ’im to a duel!”

“He didn’t.”
 

“He
did
. Bevan was standing in the corner and ’eard the whole thing.”

“What of Lady Cahill’s threats?”

“That’s the best part.” Ruth’s expression was positively gleeful. “Lord Marsden told Lady Cahill to stop being a miserable cow. He said if she caused ye a scrap of trouble, ’e’d put ’er over ’is knee and give ’er the flogging ’er husband should ’ave given her long ago. Bevan said it was all ’e could do not to cheer.”

“Lord Marsden called Lady Cahill a
miserable cow
?”

Ruth shrugged. “The exact words might’ve got changed in the telling, but that was the sentiment.”

“And a welcome one, indeed.” Lisa nodded, though she was a little disconcerted at the thought of Nathaniel chastising a grown woman. Despite Lady Cahill’s provocative behaviour, she hoped his threat was empty, because she didn’t fancy being on the receiving end of his ire if that was what he was capable of.

“The servants are right ’appy Lord Marsden gave Lady Cahill wot for,” Ruth added. “But they’re thinkin’ they better start bein’ nice to ye or they’ll be next in line.”
 

Lisa sighed.
 

Returning to the waiting seamstress and her trembling assistant, she did her best to put them at ease, treating them as she would a merchant or unfamiliar servant back at home. While making the adjustments needed to fit the gowns to Lisa’s measurements, the seamstress made suggestions for how to modernise the dresses. Smiling gratefully, Lisa offered her encouragement and thanks.

Half the dresses were being adapted from Lady Rebecca’s castoffs, a young maiden of similar age to Lisa. She was taller, the gowns—made from light-coloured fabrics and in modest styles befitting an unmarried young lady—requiring hemming and letting out at the bust. The rest of the gowns had belonged to Nathaniel’s mother and were made from richer fabrics. They needed little alteration, but the necklines were lower and designs bolder than was typical for one of Lisa’s age and marital status. Not that her current circumstances were at all typical.

With Ruth’s help, she chose pretty but not overly extravagant dresses for Sally and Ruth that they would alter themselves. It didn’t seem appropriate to ask the seamstress or her assistant to do the work.

“Are ye sure it’s all right for us to take ’em?” Ruth frowned.
 

“It’s the least I can do for the two of you in return for your friendship. I’ll speak to Lord Marsden and ask him to clear it with Mrs Donaldson. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Ruth giggled. “I think ye could get Lord Marsden to agree to just about anything.”

“Here’s hoping,” Lisa murmured to herself, as her young friend-cum-lady’s maid assisted her into a gown that had needed only minor changes. Made from a buttercup-yellow fabric with puffed sleeves, it had a fitted but not overly revealing bodice and a gracefully flowing skirt.
 

Nathaniel had left no specific instructions for the evening, other than to send a message via Stephens he would be joining Lisa after supper in her sitting room. Nor had he delivered any more shockingly revealing
negligees
. The nightwear that had arrived along with the gowns, while of the finest quality, was more in keeping with what a maiden or wife would wear than a
mistress
. At least, that’s what Lisa assumed.

Mistress.
 

There was still much about the role she did not know, Nathaniel’s explanation having been rather vague. She had considered asking Sally what she knew of the role, but had decided she would prefer to receive those answers directly from Nathaniel.

Dressed in the new gown and with her hair elegantly styled, Lisa studied her reflection in the dressing table mirror, her confidence boosted by the image of the fashionable-looking young lady smiling back at her.