Madame Laurent maintained two housekeepers on staff, who arrived in the mornings, and a cook who took care of the meals. The girls helped by keeping their own rooms, changing their bedding, and cleaning their quarters. Madame Laurent supervised the housekeepers, who tended the various rooms. Each day, except Sunday when the brothel was closed, she ensured the thirty rooms were in tip-top shape for the patrons. Like a drill sergeant inspecting barracks in the Armée de Terre, she would personally stroll through the halls, examining the conditions of each fantasy suite.
Though she implicitly trusted her housekeepers, there were days minor mistakes occurred, such as a decanter of brandy on a side table left empty or clean crystal glasses missing from the tray. The bedding, above all else, was especially fussed over. Each pillow had to be fluffed to perfection, and satin bedspreads were to be smooth and straight across the bed.
Madame Laurent, an obvious perfectionist, made sure that all was in order before the doors opened. Cleanliness, excellent service, and comfortable surroundings would entice returning clients. Aristocrats demanded attention, and she knew exactly how to cater to the egos of the various men who walked through her doors seeking the pleasures of the flesh.
Bridgette paid careful attention to the health of her girls, making sure they were well fed, but maintained their figures. She spared no expense providing the best perfumes and lotions to keep their skin smooth and delicate.
After arriving in the kitchen, Suzette poured a cup of coffee and expected the mistress of the brothel to corner her at any minute to begin interrogation about the events with Lord Holland. It didn’t take long. After her first sip of coffee, she heard her voice.
“And how was your evening last night, Suzette?”
Nearly choking on her drink, she quickly swallowed and spun around, feeling a slight blush rush up her neck.
“Fine, Madame.”
“Come with me. We need to talk . . . now.”
Suzette’s body ran cold with fear, wondering if Lord Holland had discussed what happened. If he did, surely Madame Laurent would be furious. She set her coffee cup down on the counter and followed her to the office. As soon as they entered, Bridgette closed the door and instructed her to take a seat.
Suzette shifted uncomfortably over her stern facial expression, bracing herself for a lecture.
“Well, well, I must congratulate you, Suzette. Lord Holland was quite satisfied with your services last evening. As soon as he left your bed, he approached me in my office for a private discussion. At first, I was expecting, what I thought was the inevitable, but to my surprise, he told me he was quite pleased with your performance.”
“He did?” Suzette’s eyes widened. “He was?”
“You are his for the next two nights as well.”
“Yes, he mentioned he would return,” Suzette replied, relieved.
“He’s returning to London by the end of the week, so I granted him a three-night visit. Of course, he paid dearly, let me tell you.” She pondered his departure. “He’ll be bored, no doubt, when he returns to England. There’s not a brothel across the channel that compares to mine.”
Suzette was relieved her little secret was safe.
“I don’t usually make such bargains, but we came to an equitable price. So, my dear, you are his for the next two nights, and then you’ll be back on the block to the highest bidder who walks through our door.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Suzette replied, extending the lie.
“Whatever you did with him last evening, do it again. That’s all that matters. The next few days, you are to focus on his pleasure only in the Louis XV Chambre. Be dressed and ready for his arrival promptly at seven o’clock each evening. You can use the same dress. However, do not ascend the stairs until I tell you to do so. Stay in the parlor and consort with the other gentlemen until I summon you to go directly to the room. Do you understand?”
Suzette acknowledged her understanding of the instructions. “Yes, Madame.”
“That’s all. You may go.”
She left Madame Laurent’s office, closing the door behind her. A devious smile spread across her face over the dangerous little game she played with the mistress of the house. Perhaps tonight she would be safe once again.
* * *
The remainder of the day, Suzette pondered the strange man who had refused to take her virginity the night before, even though he had paid for the privilege. His motives and apparent kindness were confusing, and she tried to understand what he could possibly gain by waiting until she willingly gave her virtue.
She followed the required preparations and took a bath in scented oils, brushed her auburn hair until it glimmered, and dabbed perfume in all the spots Nadine had taught her the night before. After dressing with Nadine’s help, she stood in front of her mirror and smiled. In all of her anxious worry over what lay ahead, she hadn’t even taken the time to consider how she had changed into a beautiful woman.
Being a laundress made her feel worthless and dirty, with old clothes and shoes that didn’t fit. Not once did she miss the heat, long hours, or uncomfortable living conditions. Since Suzette arrived at the Chabanais, she had tasted the simple pleasures of a comfortable life. It was nice to be pampered like a queen and turned into an attractive creature—only she had not yet paid the price for any of it.
Obeying Madame Laurent, she arrived in the selection parlor with the other women. The experience standing among the waiting bodies felt no easier than it had the evening before. Nervously, she glanced around for the Marquis, hoping to be spared his repulsive presence. Relieved he was nowhere in sight, Suzette found Nadine and clung to her side.
“So, the queen receives another evening with the lord,” Nadine drawled as she puffed on a cigarette.
“Yes, tonight and tomorrow.”
“Well, isn’t that just peachy? You’re so lucky.”
Suzette wondered why Nadine was in such a foul mood. “Why do you care?” she retorted. “You said that you didn’t get involved with any of them, so why the jealous undertones?”
Nadine’s gaze narrowed. “Perhaps I just love doing him,” she said snidely and walked away.
Suzette dropped her jaw at the crude remark and glanced around the selection parlor. Earlier, she had considered the comforts of where she lived, but the snide remark slapped her hard, reminding her of the grim reality of her plush surroundings. The scantily clad bodies and the topless servers would soon welcome the lecherous men through the doorway. She closed her eyes and fought the sickening feeling inside her gut.
“Suzette.”
Madame Laurent demanded her immediate attention. “Now.”
There was no need to question the order. “Yes, Madame,” she answered half-heartedly. She left the parlor and headed for the grand staircase. The beautiful crystal chandelier lighted her path to Lord Holland. Resolutely, she placed each foot before the other climbing the stairs. The opulent room and its customer waited for her arrival to perform her job.
Conflicting emotions cluttered her thoughts. Part of her looked forward to seeing the handsome man again, and the other abhorred the thought of what it meant. She had to admit that the touch of his hands on her body the evening before elicited a strange sensation. It was foreign, but delightfully pleasant. After months of toil and abuse, it felt comforting to be treated so kindly by an attractive man.
She stopped in the middle of the hallway on the way to the Chambre, as she realized where her foolish thoughts were leading. You’re a prostitute, she reminded herself. Nadine warned her not to take to heart any of the men that treated her kindly. The aristocrats came for one thing—sex. There was no life waiting outside these doors with any rich man who paid the fee to bed a whore. Quickly, she thrust the foolishness from her mind.
She reached the room and hesitantly stared at the golden doorknobs, wondering if she should knock first. Since he was waiting for her arrive, she took a deep breath, and entered the dimly lit room. As soon as she crossed the th
reshold, she felt a child-like shyness steal her courage. Her eyes focused on the floor beneath her feet. A moment later, the greeting of his smooth, enticing voice met her ears.
“Good evening, Suzette.”
She looked up and saw Robert sitting in the settee holding a single white, long-stemmed lily in his hand.
“Hello,” she said, nervously. She closed the door behind her, and then stood motionless waiting for his instruction.
“Come here,” he beckoned. “Sit next to me.” His hand patted the seat next to him, and Suzette walked slowly forward and sat down. His kind face smiled, and Suzette stared at the lily in his hand. It was a fresh bloom, and the strong fragrance greeted her nose.
“I see that you like the flower,” he said, responding to her bright eyes.
“You have found a weakness in me, Monsieur. I love flowers.”
Suzette wanted to reach out and touch the petals. He extended the flower within her reach. With her shaking hand, Suzette’s fingertips moved closer until they slid across the white rim of a single petal. She smiled.
“Here, take it. A lily for beautiful Suzette.” A satisfied smile curled his lips. “Do you know why I brought you a lily?”
“Because it’s the meaning of my name?”
Her voice sounded like a curious child in Robert’s ears. He adored her at that moment. She appeared like a fragile flower herself, beautiful and fragrant. Once again, her innocence filled the room, and her pure demeanor and lovely face struck him.
“Ah, you know then!”
“Yes. I didn’t know until Sister Mary at the Daughters of Charity told me, after I first lost my father.” Suzette brought it to her nose and inhaled the fragrance. “She also told me lily means you will find happiness, but . . .”
“But what?” Robert asked, seeing the light disappear from her eyes.
“I often find that hard to believe.”
“Well, I’m . . . I’m glad that you like it,” he said, stumbling over his words. The room grew silent as they both sat pondering what to do next. Robert watched Suzette, closely analyzing her behavior and looking for telltale clues whether she would succumb to his charms that evening.
Suzette wondered if tonight he would take what he had paid for, but then she remembered his words the evening before. “I will be your first when you are ready, and it will be when you want me as much as I want you.” What he suggested seemed impossible. Convinced their little game couldn’t continue forever, she resigned herself to the inevitable.
“Tell me more about yourself, Suzette. You have stirred my curiosity.” He lowered his voice to a smooth, gentle tone to allay her fears. “That is, if it’s not too painful for you to speak of such things.”
Suzette clenched the lily in her hand a bit tighter and inhaled its calming fragrance once more. She looked into his kind eyes and let out a sigh. He was truly empathetic over her plight, and she instinctively knew she could trust the stranger sitting next to her. It wasn’t just idle conversation, but she wondered about his motives. Nervously, she soothed her skirt with one hand, rearranging the creases as she gathered her thoughts.
“Well . . . I was born eighteen years ago.”
A smile crossed his face, and Suzette let out a girlish giggle over her absurd statement.
“I’m sorry. I should be more serious. I couldn’t help it.” A flood of relief flowed through her veins, slowing her rapid heartbeat.
“No, no. I enjoy your humor,” he replied, still chuckling himself. His smile remained while he waited for Suzette to continue.
Finally, feeling relaxed, she mindlessly twirled the lily around in her hand. “I’ve lived in Paris all my life. My mother passed away when I was a young child.”
His smile faded, but his attention stayed focused.
“My father raised me alone, except I did have a governess during my younger years.”
It appeared the mere mention of her father’s name still held the power to produce the threat of burning tears. Suzette blew a puff of air from her lungs, suppressing the urge. She was determined to continue without becoming emotional.
Robert sat graciously, still and quiet, waiting for her composure to return with no intention of pushing her beyond what Suzette could easily share. He could not bear to cause her pain, because his conscience would reprimand him terribly if he did.
“My father was a professor at the University of Paris,” she managed to announce proudly. “He taught history. He was a wonderful man, and I miss him very much.” The grieving thoughts were less painful than before, but still more than Suzette wished to feel.
“When did your father pass away, Suzette?”
“It’s been four months now. He died in his sleep—a stroke or heart attack, I think, but no one really knows.” The vivid memory of his lifeless body appeared. “I found him dead in his bed one morning.”
The vision had done its work, and Suzette’s lower lids filled with tears, in spite of her attempt to push them back. Quickly, they spilled over the edge and ran slowly down her cheeks. Embarrassed, she turned her head away from Robert and wiped them away with the back of her hand.
He had succeeded in causing her grief, and regret filled his heart. “I am truly sorry. I should not have intruded. You don’t need to talk anymore. I can see the loss is still fresh in your heart. Forgive me.”
Robert’s hand lightly touched her chin and turned her face back. With the tip of his thumb, he gently removed the tears from her cheeks. His deep blue eyes apologized for his intrusion.
Suzette found the warmth of his touch distracting, yet comforting, and she wondered how one small thumb could contain so much tenderness. The strange feeling of longing she had struggled with the evening before returned, and she shifted uncomfortably in response.
“You don’t need to apologize. Talking about my father brings me comfort too. He was a good man—a very good man. I just miss him and haven’t finished mourning his loss.”
“Madame Laurent told me how you came to be in her employment. It appears that you lost more than just your father,” Robert continued with curiosity.
Her father’s debts were shameful, and she had not reconciled his actions in being so careless with his finances. Biting her lower lip, she hesitated before speaking. “Yes, I’m afraid his entire estate was sold by the court to pay his creditors.” She fiddled with her gown and continued. “I was not privy to my father’s financial matters, so I was quite shocked at the outcome.” Suzette noticed his face turn pensive and anticipated his next question.
“But why here, Suzette? Why choose this life? Surely you had other options, didn’t you?”
Suzette’s heart pounded in her chest with anger, remembering the blackmail and frightful words of Madame Laurent. Still intimidated by her power, she didn’t dare to speak of what really transpired between the two of them.
“You must think me horrible,” she said.
He said nothing, but let the intensity of his stare examine her soul for truth.
“You are right. I lost everything. The Daughters of Charity cared for me for a few weeks. I then found a job as a laundress. As fate would have it, the Chabanais happened to be one of my assigned customers to service.” She paused, assessing his reaction looking for signs of disdain. “Madame Laurent showed kindness to me during my delivery of the linens.”
Even though she knew it was a setup, she felt like a failure. “They fired me from the laundry house at a most inconvenient time, very late at night. I was afraid, and with nowhere to go or no one to turn to, I came here.”
Suzette looked at Lord Holland with pleading eyes, wishing to end the discussion. Almost irritated at the situation, she began to wonder why he was so insistent on finding out about her past.
Robert sighed heavily and stood up to obtain his own release from the uncomfortable conversation. He walked over to the side table and poured himself a glass of wine, mulling over her words and tone of voice.
“Do you want one?” He kept his back to her.
Suzette hesitated, as she felt the atmosphere in the room grow cold. “No, thank you.”
“Very well.” He poured a full glass and then returned to her on the settee. His countenance changed dramatically, and his eyes turned from calm blue pools to dark stormy oceans, which frightened Suzette. Robert sat next to her and remained quiet for a minute before speaking.
“I’m no fool, Suzette.” He paused while keeping his gaze upon her lying face. “The moment I met you, I knew you were not meant to be here. You’re no prostitute.” He took a drink and then continued. “Believe me, I’ve had my share.”
Robert studied her broodingly, dealing with his irritation over the entire matter. Had the circumstances been any different and she was a woman of title, he would have gladly courted her to marriage. However, that was not the case. There was no doubt in his mind that his arousal each time they neared confirmed how much he wanted to lose himself in her embrace. She was captivating, petite, fragrant, and attractive. There was something about her heart and demeanor that stirred him deeply.
“You’re beautiful, well-spoken, obviously well-educated. It makes no sense.”
Suzette’s behavior changed over his comments. Though they were kind, she felt a need to defend her choices.
“People do strange things to survive. I never imagined I would end up here, frankly, but when you’re faced with a choice between the streets, possible death, or disease, you tend to make difficult decisions that you would not have done otherwise.” Out of breath from her defensive stance, she sat erect in her seat, feeling the need to posture an ounce of pride in light of her situation.
“I’m not condemning your judgment, Suzette. That’s not my intention,” he assured her. He set the glass on the side table. “Life can do cruel things to us, and we are sometimes forced to make difficult choices. I understand.” His hand reached toward the side of her rosy cheek and lightly brushed her delicate skin.
The Price of Innocence (The Legacy Series) Page 14