Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) (26 page)

BOOK: Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four)
8.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

They quickly dressed and while Mel didn’t look
nearly as convincing without Rigg’s expert touch, she was able to pass well
enough.  They slipped into the hall and started walking through the dimly lit
corridors.  It was everything Hal could do to resist taking her hand to protect
her.  It was all he could do to prevent himself from pulling her onto the
nearest bed and repeating what they’d done earlier.  But she’d be sore and he
certainly didn’t want to hurt her more than he already had.

“Where are we going?” asked Mel, as they turned a
corner once again.

“I want to find Sherry.  If anyone knows what
happened to Miss LaRue and the others, it will be she.”

They found Sherry sneaking some of the brandy
reserved for clients.  Foxed clients were more likely to order costly services,
even if they were often in no shape to do anything to enjoy them.  The girls at
Madame Thurmond’s were allowed to be slightly inebriated, but never to the
point of being bosky.  And they were generally supposed to use the cheap ale
freely distributed in the kitchen.

Sherry jumped when they found her behind a curtained
alcove.  “Lord Hal,” she said as she dipped a curtsy.  “Are you ready for us
again?  I can have someone fetch Terry for you.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.  And don’t
let us interrupt your break.”  He gestured toward the purloined brandy, hoping
it would loosen her tongue.  “My cousin and I had a few questions.”

Sherry looked warily at the two of them, then took a
drink as if she needed to fortify herself.

“What can you tell me of Miss LaRue?” asked Hal.

“Miss LaRue, as in the whore with the bright red
hair who used to work here?”  At Hal’s nod, she thought for a moment.  “She was
a bit full of herself she was.  Puttin’ on airs as if she weren’t earnin’ on
her back like the rest of us.  Had a taste for molasses.  Bit too much of a
taste, if you ask me.  She was getting plumper than a laying hen.  And she
snored somethin’ awful.”

“Do you know where she went when she left here?”
asked Hal.

“Can’t say I thought about it one way or another. 
One day she up and left and didn’t say nothin’ about it to no one beforehand. 
We expected Madame Thurmond to have a fit since it was right before rent was
due.  But she surprised us all by taking the news right calmly.  Said Miss LaRue
wasn’t a good earner and it was good riddance.  We did think it was odd, since
she usually don’t take it too well when someone leaves.”  The slightly wobbly
Sherry narrowed her eyes at Hal.  “Why are you askin’ so many questions about
Miss LaRue?”

Hal contemplated just how much to tell Sherry. 
Given her inebriated state, she was unlikely to remember much the next day. 
“She was supposed to leave for America, but she never showed up for the
voyage.”

“America!” said Sherry.  “Who would want to go to
bloody America?  I always knew that girl was daft.  Always going on and on
about how some bloke was going to take her away from this life.  None of us
girls thought he existed.  But now if you say he was going to take her to
America, maybe he did.  Don’t really matter now, do it?  She ain’t here.”

“Did she ever describe the bloke?” asked Hal.

“Like how big his cock was?” asked Sherry.

“Well, that would be a starting point, I suppose. 
But I was hoping to have a more general description, how one could recognize him
on the street.  Fully clothed.”

“Oh.”  She took another drink.  “She said he used to
be a fighter.  His nose had been broke a time or two and he had a scar down his
cheek.  She claimed he was a rich bloke who owned a gaming hell.  Like as not,
the only true part of that was he had an ugly scar.  Miss LaRue always was one
to exaggerate something awful.”

Mel gasped, but then tried to conceal it by
coughing.  Sherry’s description perfectly matched the owner of Dill’s.

“Is there anything else you can tell us, Sherry?”

The girl thought about it as she downed the rest of
her glass.  “I think that about does it.  Don’t know how it will help you now. 
And if yer lookin’ for another redhead, I have plenty of wigs if you want to go
back to my rooms.  Maybe you, me and yer cousin can spend the rest of the night
playin’.”

“Thank you, Sherry, but no,” said Hal, as he gave
the girl a few more coins.  “But you have been most helpful.”

“I always like being helpful to you, Lord Hal.  You
should know that by now.  If you don’t want to employ me, I’d better get back
downstairs.  The evening rush is about to start and it wouldn’t do to miss it.”

“Sherry,” said Mel to the girl.  “There is a whole
world beyond these walls, beyond London.  I think you would do very well in
America.  Will you consider going?”

Sherry looked quizzically at Mel.  “What the devil
would you know about America?  Ain’t you from Northumberland?”

“My cousin has dreams of going abroad,” said Hal
quickly.  “But I must say, Sherry, that if you ever wanted to get away from
this life, there are people who could help you.”

“Are you asking me to be your mistress, Hal?” asked
Sherry.

“I am afraid I’m not in the market for one,” he
answered smoothly.  “I meant to suggest that if you wanted to stop being a
prostitute, there are people who could arrange for passage to America.”

“Huh,” said Sherry as she took one last drink before
stoppering the bottle.  “Can’t say as how I ever gave the future much thought. 
Truth be told, I don’t care much for being a whore, what with the smelly bodies
and the terrible hours and having to act like I’m enjoying it like I’m a Covent
Garden actress.”  After a moment she added, “Not that I ever had to act when I
was with you, of course.”

“Of course,” said Hal.  “Keep the offer in mind. 
Should you decide you’d like to go to America, you need only send a message to
Mitchell House.  Can you remember that?”

Sherry nodded.  “Thanks, milord.  I always did say
you was a good one.  Now I have to go before the rich gents go with other
girls.”

With that, Sherry departed, wobbling slightly along
the way.

“I’m sorry I almost gave myself away,” said Mel.

“It’s been a momentous night,” said Hal.  “You had a
lot on your mind.”

“I did,” she said as she leaned in toward him.  “I
do.”

Hal caught himself just in time before he gave in
and took her against the wall.  “Did you know Miss LaRue was involved with
Conrad Patton?”

“No.  She said she had no connections she could not
leave.  Do you think he could have been involved in her disappearance?”

“I don’t know.  He has a history of violence toward
cheaters and those who won’t pay their debts.  But I know nothing of his
relations with women.  I will check it out.”

“Will we be going there tonight, Hal?”


We
will not be going anywhere.  Your
disguise might fool a bunch of half-bosky women in a dimly lit cathouse.  You
would not pass at Dill’s, where the floor managers are paid to pay close
attention to everyone who enters the premises.”

Mel looked like she wanted to argue with him, but
gave in for the moment.  “Do you promise to keep me informed of your progress?”

Hal considered the request.  “Yes.  But only if you
promise me you’ll do no further investigating on your own.”

Mel hesitated and Hal could almost see her mind
scheming to come up with a way to get around his edict.  “All right,” she
said.  “As long as you keep me informed.”

“Very well,” said Hal.  “Now it’s past time to get
you out of here and deliver you to your uncle’s house.”

Hal had a feeling he would soon make his own trip to
her uncle’s house, with an important mission of his own to complete.

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anne Cartwright was almost finished with the
darning.  It was after midnight and she was getting a headache from doing the
close work by candlelight.  She usually finished the darning and mending during
the day, but lately there had been a great deal more work around the house than
usual.  Lydia and Angela used to do chores in exchange for a reduction in
rent.  But both had seen an increase in income over the past few weeks and
neither was especially inclined to help out for free.

Anne felt bad for the women because she had a very
good idea where they were getting their money.  And sooner or later she would
have to have a talk with them.  The point of the boardinghouse was to help
girls move away from prostitution.  The reduced rents were supposed to enable
them to get honest work.  But Anne was afraid both women were falling prey to
the material trappings of their trade.

Anne remembered all too well the heady experience of
finally having money of her own.  She’d had to work from an early age to help
her sick mother and younger sister.  She’d worked in one of the fabric
warehouses, then when she turned sixteen she’d found better paying work as a
pattern model.  Or at least that’s what she’d been told.  She’d had little idea
that the men who came to watch her model the clothes were simply whetting their
appetite for the brothel next door.  Shortly before her seventeenth birthday
she learned she would lose that job too, unless she allowed one of the favored
customers to take her maidenhead.

She remembered that day all too well.  She told the
proprietor in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t do it, then quit her job. 
But within the month, her mother’s health deteriorated so much that she was on
the verge of dying.  She needed medicine and they had no money for it.  Anne
went back to the warehouse and asked for her job back, knowing what that would
entail.

She was then trained for her new career and told if
the man liked her enough there was every chance she would become his mistress,
which would guarantee a steady income for at least a year.  She did her very
best on the night she spent with him, ignoring the pain and humiliation and
trying to appear the willing supplicant.  But he wasn’t interested in her as
either a person or even a vessel of his pleasure.  He paid to deflower another
girl the next week and another the week after that.

With the loss of her maidenhead, the proprietor told
Anne her worth had greatly diminished.  But since she was still fairly young
and quite attractive, she was able to find a protector within a few weeks.  The
relationship lasted a little more than a year.  He was young and strong with a
face every girl dreamed of.  He treated her very well at first, and despite the
warnings from the madame and every other girl she’d worked with, Anne found
herself falling in love with him.

For the first time in her life she had a good income
– minus the madame’s placement fee.  She didn’t have to worry about having
enough money to support her family or keeping a roof over her own head.  And
also for the first time, a man was interested in her.  She knew it was
primarily a physical relationship.  But he was most attentive and listened to
her.  He showered her with trinkets and gifts, which were especially
appreciated since she’d never had anything nice to call her own before.  There
were long periods of time when she didn’t see him.  But when she grew lonely, she
used to take out the gifts to admire them, imagining a life with him.  Isolated
from her family – it wouldn’t do for a courtesan to be seen with them – she
took comfort from these reminders that she wasn’t alone in the world.  Someone
did care for her.  She didn’t see her protector as often as she’d like, but she
thoroughly enjoyed his company and even came to enjoy what they did in the
bedroom.

Due in part to the funds she sent them, her mother’s
health began to improve and her sister was courted by a clerk.  Anne didn’t
want to do anything to jeopardize her sister’s chances of being married, so she
communicated with her mother and sister mainly through letters and the
occasional meeting outside of their neighborhood.  She kept sending money home and
even came to see the best of her situation.

But then everything changed.

The first beating had come out of the blue. 
Completely unexpected.  Her lover had been in a bad mood and nothing she did
made him feel better.  When she teased him about his being out of sorts, he
backhanded her.  An instant later, he was as contrite as she was shocked.  He
cleaned the cut above her eye, apologized profusely and gave her several
guineas to buy herself something nice.

Two months later it happened again, but this time he
wasn’t as quick to apologize.  The next time it was a punch, and the time after
that it was a beating so severe he split her lip, loosened a tooth and blackened
an eye.

She spoke to her madame, who was sympathetic but
said nothing could be done about it.  Anne didn’t dare call in the Watch, who
could all too easily be paid off.  She couldn’t break the contract because her
lover had proven to be extremely possessive of her. 

She decided her best course of action was to go back
to her mother’s house.  Fortunately, she’d always been careful to hide any
evidence of her family life from her madame.  If she fled, she could hide there
until she convinced her mother to move away with her.  She had enough money
saved up.  She could disappear and if she was careful with her spending, they
could live for several years on it, while supplementing her income with honest
work.  She’d take in laundry.  She’d cook and clean.  Anything would be
preferable to what she had been doing.

BOOK: Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four)
8.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Be My Hero by Nell Dixon
Seconds Away by Harlan Coben
Finding Madelyn by Suzette Vaughn
Las once mil vergas by Guillaume Apollinaire
Protector: Foreigner #14 by Cherryh, C.J.