“Side deal?” She shook her head in confusion.
“You took a man upstairs.”
“But…but he didn’t pay me. It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh, you have a sweetheart, do you?” the woman sneered. When her eyes narrowed, the pale powder she wore creased into the wrinkles it was supposed to hide.
“No,” Melisande said, not wanting Madame to know anything about it. It was Melisande’s secret and hers alone.
“If it was charitable Christmas work then I commend you, but your time is my time and I don’t give free rides. I expect my cut for it at the end of the evening, same as all the others.”
“Oui, Madame,” Melisande whispered. She’d pay it from her own pocket. The day had been worth the coin.
As Madame walked away, Melisande reached for the shell necklace, already an instinct after only a few hours. But she’d removed it, of course. Even if she hadn’t been asked to wear the green ribbon, she’d never have left Bill’s necklace on for this.
She’d walked only halfway through the room when a stranger waved her closer. He looked her up and down, his gray mustache twitching with either approval or disdain—she couldn’t tell. He smelled of cigar smoke, and he didn’t ask her name or call her “miss.” He simply stood and nodded his head toward the stairs. Melisande led the way.
She wished she could hold on to the memory of Bill a little longer, but she’d had it for a few hours, at least. Her Christmas was over now.
The stranger followed her to her room and she lay down for him. It was over in minutes, and she realized it didn’t really matter. She could still remember the feel of Bill in her body. A totally different act that had nothing to do with this.
The man buttoned up and left his money and it was done.
Melisande washed carefully. She smoothed her hair down, tightened the pins in her bun, straightened the thin white linen she wore. When she looked at herself in the mirror it was a girl wearing a green ribbon, not a black one. A girl who looked tired instead of happy. It was some other girl, not her.
She felt so removed as she descended the stairs it took a moment before she realized Bill was there. When she spied him, she nearly missed the next step and had to catch herself on the railing. Half an hour ago, she’d been searching him out, but now she felt like someone else. Someone confused that he was here.
He stood near the door, and unlike the other men in the room, he had no drink in his hand.
His eyebrows rose a little when he looked up and caught sight of her. After a moment’s hesitation, he approached the bottom of the stairs, hat in his hands. “Could I come up with you?” he asked.
“Of course.”
Should she feel happy? Sad? Ashamed? She had no idea. But he’d known she was a whore this morning when he’d bought her gingerbread. And this afternoon when he’d taken her to bed. Nothing had changed tonight. So why did she feel strange?
Unlike her previous customer, she was too aware of Bill as she led him down the hall, and when she let him through her door, his body seemed to fill the room until she could hardly breathe.
“You came back,” she said, but it sounded like a question.
“I couldn’t keep you out of my mind.” His words were at odds with his eyes, though. Instead of looking at her, his gaze roamed over the room as he turned his hat in his hands. He nodded toward the floor next to her bed. “You read?” he asked.
Melisande felt a moment of irritation at his question and moved to scoot the two worn novels under her bed. They were meant to be hidden. She’d been too distracted from her normal routine today. “Yes,” she answered, “I can read.”
“I never had much patience for school,” he said, and she realized he hadn’t meant to insult her. “I got just enough to manage.”
The seconds stretched out, and though he finally looked at her, he made no move to undress.
When Melisande reached to remove her corset, Bill raised a hand so suddenly that she startled.
“Don’t,” he said.
“Don’t what?” Did he like this charade of white undergarments and bright ribbons?
“Don’t take off your clothes. I don’t want to pay you for this anymore.”
“Oh.” She froze in shock, her mind tumbling over itself until she let her hands fall away. Her pulse skittered in her throat. He’d come back to demand something for nothing. To claim some ownership over her after their day together. She should have known. “Today was…” She swallowed a sudden dryness from her throat. “I can’t give it away for free. I’m sorry. Madame won’t allow it.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. I’ll pay you for your time, just not for that. It…it doesn’t feel right anymore. That’s not what you are to me.”