When she’d arrived, desperate and homeless, on Madame’s doorstep, she’d had no idea such women even existed.
How much she’d learned since then.
And how miraculous to have escaped their fate.
Or, so she’d thought.
To her surprise, Madame spoke up, her voice thick with something that sounded more suspicious and thoughtful than the brusque dismissal that reminded Charity she could not expect to be treated with any special consideration.
“Perhaps that was the reason a certain Mr Cyril Adams darkened our doorstep with a request for your services last night, Charity.” Madame dabbed delicately at her lips as she speared Charity with an incisive look. “I don’t suppose you know him.”
Charity drew in a quick breath but Patience, one of the older girls, let out a harsh laugh before saying with heavy irony, “What a charming piece that fellow is. Vain, selfish, and parsimonious, he is. Or, so I’ve heard.”
“And also, Hugo’s cousin,” Charity said in a soft voice.
“I thought there was something havey-cavey going on,” muttered Madame, tucking into another muffin before she’d finished her last mouthful of the first. “Though, of course, I had no idea your young Mr Adams had just given you up.”
“He was going to marry me,” Charity said softly. “Properly!” she added, before realising her error and casting an anguished look at her friend, Violet.
Violet, one of the most poised and beautiful young women at Madame Chambon’s — in Charity’s opinion — was about to embark on a sham marriage to a young lord. In fact, Charity herself would be present at the church as one of the witnesses.
Charity didn’t miss the spasm of pain that crossed her friend’s face. Quickly hidden, of course. Violet didn’t reveal her feelings, though Charity knew Violet was deeply in love with young Lord Belvedere, an unlikely customer. A very dashing and charming one, too.
But a sham marriage was all it would be.
Violet patted Charity on the shoulder. “Please don’t feel bad on my account. I never expected a proper marriage...but you were promised it and, knowing Mr Adams so well, as we all do, now, we had expected it.”
“Indeed! It’s not uncommon for true love to blossom under my roof — but for it to lead to legal marriage is a fine thing.” Madame looked remarkably fiery as she pushed out her impressive bosom and stared down the table at the six girls gathered there. “I gave that cousin of Mr Hugo’s short shrift, I can tell you.” She shook her head, taking another mouthful as she added sorrowfully, “But now Mr Hugo has let you down, I don’t know what will be done.”
Charity didn’t know either. Clearly, Madame would come up with something. She waited, holding her breath.
“You need not fear, Charity. I shall not sacrifice you to the first stranger who seeks your services. Not so soon after your terrible let-down. I have some compassion.”
But you’d happily sacrifice me to the second within the week if his offer was good enough, Charity thought with more terror than bitterness.
The moment’s silence suggested the other girls thought the same.
Until Rosetta said tentatively, “It would appear we are not the only ones who think poorly of Mr Adams.”
As she was not one to voice opinions, the girls looked at her with surprise.
“Well, girl, you don’t make remarks like that without backing them up,” Madame barked.
Charity tried not to roll her eyes. This was not the approach to take with Rosetta if one wished for elaboration.
It was Violet who put her hand on Rosetta’s arm and said gently, “What can you tell us about Mr Adams? Perhaps it’s important in view of him poking his nose around here so soon after Charity’s terrible disappointment.” She sent Madame a significant look and Charity smiled gratefully. Violet was so calm and agreeable. She always knew what to say.
“The gentleman I entertained two nights ago said one of the few men in London he’d not game with was Mr Cyril Adams.” She blushed and looked down. “But perhaps it’s nothing. One can’t believe everything a gentleman says.”
“One certainly can’t,” Violet agreed. “But it is an interesting observation. Perhaps more than just a coincidence. What do you think, Charity?”
Charity nodded. Violet sounded so cultured yet she’d never divulged the real reasons she’d landed on Madame’s doorstep several years before with nothing but a carpetbag of belongings yet looking and sounding every inch the well-heeled young lady. Violet had declared that she wanted to work as one of Madame’s girls as if she’d really meant it and Charity, who’d been making her way along the passage, had been brought up short as she’d heard her declaration to Madame through Madame’s half open study door.
“Hugo said his cousin had plied him with drink then pressured him to play at dice.” Charity could barely summon the energy to sit straight in her chair. “Hugo never plays. And he doesn’t like his cousin. Oh lord, what would he do if he knew his cousin had come asking for me?” She managed to choke down the sob. “Is Mr Adams really that dreadful?” She shuddered at the thought of having to do with anyone what she’d done with Hugo. “I know they’re competitive but — ”
“Mr Adams is held in the highest disregard.” It was Emily, now, adding her tuppence worth. “I heard from one of my fellers that Mr Adams palms cards and that’s why he’d never play him.”
“Mr Adams obviously cheated your Hugo!” Rosetta said but Charity shook her head. “Hugo rolled the dice with everyone watching him.”