“Thank you, Big John.”
“Miss Benedict is out at the bar. Miss Joy is getting ready to play,” he nodded toward the other room. “You might wanta take a gander at the crowd tonight.”
Faith smiled and moved past him. The organza rustling against her movements and from behind, she heard the bouncer whistle. It proved just the confidence boost she needed to settle her nerves.
Gliding to the large gathering room, Faith watched the other girls find their places. Hope and Charity had joined the younger woman at the spinet. Joy’s fingers flowed over the keys as the other two ladies soft voices blended in sweet harmony. The salon had only a few men standing at the bar yet they were mesmerized by the sounds from the corner.
“Faith,” Miss Benedict motioned for her to come to the side of the polished mahogany bar.
“Yes?”
“Go to the kitchen and let Nanny know that we require some sweet red wine tonight. Make sure the glasses are small. I do not wish to loose my perspective.”
“As you wish.”
Pushing away, Faith moved toward the kitchen. As she crossed parallel to the edge, a gentleman confronted her. She stepped back her hand grasped the bar to steady her step. She watched as his hungry eyes moved from her feet to her face. She saw a gleam catch fire as he caught a glimpse of the heaven beneath her skirts. She moved to go around him. His arm shot out to bar her way.
“Howdy ma’am,” his lips swept into a bright smile.
“Bonsoir,” Faith answered.
The young man scratched his head as a curious look marred his otherwise handsome boyish features. “Boy swan?”
She smiled, and gave a shake of her head. “Bonsoir,” she pronounced slow so he would hear the syllables.
“Oh that’s French,” he nodded. “You…you want to have a drink with me?”
Faith shook her head. Her mouth formed a regretful expression. “I cannot.”
“Awe come on, it’s only a little drink. I’ve been working on the railroad for damn…”
He paused. They both turned hearing Miss Benedict’s throat clear quite loud.
Faith blushed.
He followed the Madame’s hand to the sign above the bar which reminded patrons no cussing. With a nod he continued. “Darn near two months,” he replied checking his language and holding out his wad of cash. “I haven’t held a female in my arms unless you count the silver or gold liberties on the coins I’ve counted for the cash office.”
Feeling his anguish, Faith tried to ease her regret and again shook her head. The gentleman’s face dissolved into hurt.
“What? I’m not good enough? I heard you women were high class.”
Her hand reached out and touched his sleeve. “Le monsieur, je suis promis un autre,” she replied then softly explained, I am promised to another.
Again his face screwed in confusion. He appeared about to object when Madame Benedict spoke.
“Faith, Va-t-tout très bien,” she questioned to see if Faith was all right.
“Oui, bien,” Faith replied, her eyes darting to the young man.
Giving a knowing smile, Miss Benedict linked her arm into his. “So, you’re looking for some entertainment tonight, correct?”
The gentleman blinked at the stately woman now standing at his side. “Yes, ma’am, I’ve saved a whole two months pay.”
“My gracious, you are generous of nature,” she batted her eyes.
“My-my buddy, we heard the other men talking about Sweetbrier, ma’am, how it’s a real gentile place.”
“Of course,” Miss Benedict scoffed. “We may be on the prairie, but my girls are of the highest standards.”
He looked around his eyes settling again on Faith. “Yes ma’am, I can sure see that.”
She opened her fan and held back her smile. “Let me introduce you to another young lady. She would love to spend an evening with a handsome, strapping young man like you.” Her fingers ran up and down his arm. He blushed. Miss Benedict pursed her lips as if blowing a kiss. “So young,” she sighed. “Come, meet Grace.”
With Miss Benedict in charge, Faith moved toward the kitchen where Nanny worked finishing the meal of finger food to serve later before the couples adjourned to their rooms.
“You need something, Faith?”
“Miss Benedict has requested some sweet red wine,” Faith announced.
“Well, I got some up from the cellar just now. See if it’s to your taste?”
Nanny held out a glass and Faith took it, tilting the crystal to her lips, accepted a small sip. The drink left little on the pallet, only a soft hint of sweetness.
“Yes, this will be fine, Nanny. Oh, Madame requests that only small glasses be used,” Faith explained.
“Just as soon as Big John gets all the lamps lit and I’ll put two glasses in the game room for ya’ll.” Her eyes narrowed noting Faith’s pale coloring, “How you feeling?”
“A bit nervous,” she confessed, her hand fluttering to her well cinched middle.
Nanny turned back to the bowl of potatoes she was whipping and added the cream. “It’s not like your first time. Relax and show them what you know.”
“No, not my first,” Faith agreed. “Yet, I’ve not been in search of a paramour either.”
Nanny stopped stirring. Picking up the towel, she wiped her fingers and placed one hand beside Faith’s cheek. “You can do this and do this fine. You are Miss Benedict’s best girl and you gonna get what you deserve, a man to take care of you through thick and thin.”
Faith looked back at her intense stare before nodding. Satisfied that she understood, Nanny smiled back.
“Now, you take one more sip of sweet wine so it can bring the rose to your cheeks.”
Faith did as she asked.
“Good, now, you go on out and make us proud.”
Fortified, she returned to the lounge prepared for her job.
Chapter Four
Moving back into the salon, she heard laughter erupt from the corner table. Turning, she noted the gentleman who stopped her earlier, sitting in the corner with another one of the ladies. Faith relaxed knowing his mind was occupied and he would be unlikely to cause any trouble. Gazing around the room, she found Miss Benedict moving through the growing crowd making sure everyone was satisfied and getting down to the business of entertaining. Miss Benedict looked up and spotted her.
Catching the motion of her hand, Faith moved toward the table where she stood.
“Is everything ready?”
“Yes, I have placed two bottles of your best scotch, a small keg of beer, and cold water, on the high boy,” Faith explained.
“Food?”
“Some chicken wings, cheese and crackers, and I believe Nanny placed fresh fruit, also. Big John is procuring the wine and glasses.”
“Wonderful, you’ve done very well,” she placed a hand upon her arm. “Tonight you will rise to the next level of a courtesan.”
Before she could continue, the door opened. Miss Benedict turned, her face lighting into a radiant smile as three men strode into the room.
“They’re here,” she whispered squaring her shoulders and moving toward the doorway.
Faith watched the gentlemen as they removed their travel cloaks, Big John appearing as if by magic whisking the items away. Craning her neck and rising on her toes, Faith appraised her potential suitors. All the men were tall. A good thing, she thought. It was her preference for the man to be above her own height. She felt it made a better fit when it came to coupling.
The youngest male was perhaps nearing six foot, the two older gentlemen at least three inches taller. As she continued to watch, the gentlemen removed their hats. One of the older gentlemen sported a head of snow white hair. She remembered seeing him before. Once in New Orleans when she first came to Sweetbrier, then a second time just after they set up housekeeping in Wyoming.
As she watched, he stepped forward, giving a broad smile and engulfing Miss Benedict into his deep embrace. Unable to c
urtain her curiosity, Faith moved closer, her ears easily picking up the conversation.
“My lord, Opal, you get more beautiful each day,” he whispered in her ear. His husky voice seemed affectionate and inviting.
“Howard,” she greeted him, “good to see you as well,” A underlying note of emotion carried across with her words, Faith’s instincts told her this man, Howard, was more than a good friend. As they broke their embrace, she watched Miss Benedict thread her fingers through his.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Miss Benedict inquired turning toward her other guests.
Leaning over, he planted a chaste kiss upon her cheek before gesturing to his fellow travelers. She noted that while their hands dissolved their union, he encircled Miss Benedict’s waist, drawing her to his side as if she belonged to him, completing his picture. The words she spoke earlier in the day echoed in her head, “To find your mirrored half, your companion”. Faith understood.
Pulling at the ribbon, bringing the fan to her hands as she listened, Faith took notice of each gesture. They looked like any happily married couple, he in his late forties and she around forty-three. Faith caught a glance of yearning flair between them both. Then insight dawned on her, Mr. Stetson could be no other than Miss Benedicts paramour. Faith watched as he gestured to the others, and introduced his friends and she allowed him total command.
“Mr. Gregory Wilson, Mr. Thaddeus Oakley, allow me to introduce Miss Opal Benedict, headmistress of Sweetbrier.”
“Gentlemen,” she offered a winning smile and held her hand out.
Faith found the introduction as fascinating as the men’s reaction to her benefactress. The second gentleman, Mr. Wilson rather tall and rotund, stepped forward. Without his hat, she could see his brown hair receding. If she were to guess, her estimate would be a man in his fifties, but not quite as well kept as Mr. Stetson. Mr. Wilson pumped Miss Benedict’s hand as if she were a dry well.
“Miss Benedict, it is indeed a pleasure to meet you. I can’t tell you how surprised I am to see such an establishment on the lonesome prairie.” The man seemed to gush over each word.
Her employer’s mouth twitched.
“My dear Mr. Wilson, surprise is always welcome,” she replied.
“Let the woman’s hand go, Gregory, or you’ll wring it off,” laughed Miss Benedict’s dashing knight.
Once rescued, she turned toward the younger man.
“Mr. Oakley.” Howard Stetson gave a name to the face.
Faith noted a bit of pride in the introduction. It occurred to her that her prospective suitors would be between those two men. Giving her all the more reason to be attentive to their introductions, she reasoned.
Sweeping his gray hat from his head, Mr. Oakley stepped forward and took Miss Benedict’s right hand bringing it to his lips. The cut of his dark blue denim accentuated his narrow hips and long legs as the pants tapered down into his buff colored boots. His shirt was made of fine woven cotton and instead of being plaid, it was a pale blue, so unusual for a mere laborer on the railroad. She watched fascinated as his lips puckered then swished over Miss Benedict’s knuckles. The intimate act made her quiver with excitement.
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Benedict.”
His baritone voice soothed Faith’s ears with a familiar southern accent. Faith let out a small sigh unaware they heard her until their faces turned in her direction. Heat rose to color her cheeks. She looked plaintively to Miss Benedict hoping she didn’t appear presumptuous listening to their conversations.
“Forgive me, gentlemen, may I present my young colleague, Faith?” Miss Benedict spoke.
“How do you do,” she whispered before bending her knee to drop to a slight curtsey. As she pulled the material of her skirt taunt across her body, Faith heard Mr. Wilson inhale sharply. She knew that the impression of what lay beneath surpassed at least one male fantasy. It was indeed well received.
“Faith, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Oakley,” she directed the names using her folded fan, “and I assume you remember Mr. Stetson.”
“My Faith, how you have grown,” Howard spoke, up moving forward, he took her hand. “You were quite young the last time we met.”
“I remember,” Faith smiled back. “It’s a pleasure to have you with us,” her eyes shifted to his companions. “As well as you, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Oakley.”
Both men bent their heads to acknowledge her statement.
“Gentlemen,” Miss Benedict began, “before cards, the ladies have selected a short piece for your listening pleasure.” She tucked her arm beneath Mr. Stetson’s. “Shall we adjourn to the spinet?”
With her benefactress in the lead, the rest followed. Faith found Mr. Wilson an attentive partner for her elbow, refusing Mr. Oakley its use. A pity, she thought, casting a glance in the younger man’s direction. As Mr. Wilson’s hand captured her elbow, she chided herself to remember that she must show appreciation to all for one of these two men could choose to sponsor her.
Keeping her emotions closely guarded, Faith found Mr. Wilson at her side as they made their way to the sofa across from where Joy and her troupe were gathered. Sitting on the edge of the red velvet cushion, Faith felt the portly gentleman settle deep beside her.
“Joy, if you please,” Miss Benedict instructed.
Raising her hands, Joy’s fingers graced the keys, allowing the music to encircle the room followed by the harmony of the other ladies as they sang the haunting lyrics to Aura Lee.
Faith always enjoyed listening to Joy as she played. Tonight was no exception. Looking around, it struck her that Mr. Oakley’s face took on a melancholy expression. She glanced at Mr. Wilson. He seemed interested, yet he didn’t seem as affected as the younger man. He caught her stare and smiled. Faith returned the friendly gesture from behind her fan, flirting as she had been trained.
As the selection continued, she felt his hand slide from her shoulders to rest low against her waist. Minutes later, she could feel her escort’s hand slip deep into the space between her cushion and her skirt. A shiver of excitement coursed through her as his middle fingers began to stroke across the seam at slit at her bum. The lace moved against her skin creating an arousing sensation. Her breasts tightened against the strains of the whale bone, pressing against the crisp organza.
From the corner of her eye she glimpsed his devilish smile grow. Before he could explore further, the song ended. Mr. Wilson, without the movement being seen, withdrew his hand to applaud the troupe’s effort.
“Joy and ladies as always that was quite lovely, thank you.” The Madame looked toward her party as she spoke, “Shall we adjourn to the back room?”
As the men nodded, Miss Benedict rose from her seat. She waited until Howard offered her his arm. Then with him leading, they moved toward the back room.
Faith rose, pulling her fan to her hand. Opening it she gently stirred the air while standing quiet as Mr. Wilson extradited himself from the sofa with a grunt. Once erect, he clasped her hand.
“My dear, such a delightful creature you are.” He murmured, almost purring in her ear as he pulled her close.
She closing her fan and dropped it by her side. A glance in the direction of Miss Benedict, Faith knew she had caught the meaning Mr. Wilson would be nothing more than a friend, then her hand slipped over his and she spoke. “Miss Benedict has taught us all very well. I know that Mr. Stetson works for the railroad, Do you sir?”
“Yes,” he adjusted the dark vest over his pouch as he spoke, “I have worked for the railroad for about twenty-five years now, moved up to payroll management.”
“My, such a long time,” she fanned.
“When I started out, I couldn’t have been any younger than Mr. Oakley, there.” He explained. “But that was long before the war and our rail lines hadn’t quite ventured as far as the Wyoming territory.”
“So your family is back East?” she asked inclining her head toward the man at her side.
“I have no family my dear, just
a sprinkling of nieces and nephews, my sister’s children.”
“Oh, I see.”
They took a few steps in silence.
“You have family?” Mr. Wilson inquired.
Faith’s mouth grew slack. “No, no I’m afraid not.”
“Ah, but you are here, and this is family, ey?”
“Yes,” her smile returned. “I think that is the best way to put it. Will you be gambling tonight?”
“Yes, Howard convinced me that a good card game and a wonderful prize might just be the trick to a lovely evening.”
“Perhaps, tonight, luck will be on your side, Mr. Wilson.” Faith leaned forward to wish him luck. Her breast rubbed the edge of his arm and she felt his hand tighten around hers.
He gave a short chuckle, “One can only hope lady luck is listening to your prayer.”
Laughing along with Mr. Wilson, Faith leaned back to glance at the younger man in the trio. She pulled her fan close to her face. Her eyes shimmered as she spoke, “Mr. Oakley, are you still with us?”
“Here, Miss Wilson,” he answered and the tight group pulled to a halt. “Howard, I’m going to step outside for a smoke,” Mr. Oakley remarked with a dismissing nod to the ladies, “If you will pardon me?”
Miss Benedict placed a hand upon his arm, “I have an abundance of cheroots just behind the bar, Mr. Oakley. Please don’t trouble yourself. The night air has a nip to it. Neither Faith nor I mind the smell of good tobacco. Won’t you allow me to offer you a cigar?”
The young man eyed both women before he responded, “If you’re sure you don’t mind?”
“No. No, not at all, Faith,” Miss Benedict looked to her right questioning.
Faith found herself before the youngest member of the group. For the first time, she gained a good close look. Their eyes locked and she seemed drawn to the deep pool of blue, clearer than any sky. Now that she looked at him, he seemed much younger than she first perceived, closer to her age, perhaps no more than thirty. Odd, in his presence, she found it hard to breathe.
His sandy blonde hair, cut shorter than most, and pushed back over his ears fell in natural waves to his back collar. A lingering shadow that spoke to the beginnings of a morning stubble, graced his strong square jaw. She resisted the urge to step forward and run her hands across his skin to feel the friction against her fingers. Engrossed in her assessment of Mr. Thaddeus Oakley, Faith did not move.
Sweetbrier Academy:Having Faith Page 3