Page 55 of A Story of Love

Lori would never be able to stomach the scent of a rose again.

“Ye look a treat,” Ella assured her.

“A treat.” Lori repeated, laughing. “Well, that’s good. Now, let me see if I can walk in these shoes.” Lori stalked back and forth in Ella’s small room, her feet making a clomping sound in velvet shoes with scuffed carmine heels and flaking gold buckles.

Already her ankles hurt just from a few jaunts across the room.

She shook her head. “I will just wear my own ankle boots. Nobody will notice them beneath the gown.”

And it would also allow her to run, if need be. But Lori kept that thought to herself. Indeed, it felt cowardly to entertain such a notion. After all, Ella walked the same streets and entered the same drinking establishments every night of the week while Lori would only be visiting once and for a short time and a different business entirely. Poor Ella would be forced to sell her body until the day she died.

“We needs to ‘ave a plan if a gent wants some trade,” Ella said as Lori sat and changed her footwear.

“Trade? You mean if some man wishes to engage my, er, services?”

Ella laughed. “Aye, that’s wot oi mean, ducks.”

It was difficult to imagine any man wanting a woman who was wearing so much face paint, but then Ella herself wore a great deal—with two patches—and she claimed to make a decent, if not luxurious, living.

“I could tell anyone who approaches me that I’m on my courses,” she said as she buttoned up her boots.

Ella gave another of her cackles. “Men don’t care about that, luv.”

“Really?” She sat up straighter and grimaced when the boning dug into the side of her breast.

“Nah. Most men would fuck a knot’ole in a fence.”

Lori winced. “That is very vivid imagery.” She stood and took the money she’d pre-counted before arriving at Ella’s cramped little hovel. “Here is half of what we agreed upon. I’ll give you the rest once we’ve visited the last of the taverns.”

Ella nodded, took the small purse of money, and tucked it into her bodice.

“There is also a piece of paper in with the money that has an address written on it. If anything should happen to me, I’d be obliged if you’d let the lady who lives there know where you last saw me.”

Ella frowned. “Anyfing? Like what?” she asked, visibly perplexed as to what could possibly befall two unattended women wandering around down at the docks after midnight.

“I don’t know, Ella. But if I can’t get back home at the end of the evening, that is the address where I live. My housemate should be made aware if I have any problems.” Lord. She hated the thought of somebody bothering Freddie, but who else did she have? Not David, that was certain.

Ella shrugged. “Awright. You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

***

Fast checked his watch and then lifted a hand for the serving wench, who sauntered over to his table with a come-hither smirk on her face.

“Aye, milord? Wot can I get ye?”

He smiled up at her rather haggard face, not surprised that she knew who he was. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked her, sliding a shiny gold coin across the table.

A spark of interest entered her deadened eyes as she stared at the sovereign, a coin that had barely rolled out of the Mint. “These’re new, aye? I ain’t seen one yet.”

“Well, you have now. And it is yours.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Wot do I got to do fer it?”

“What is your name?”

“Cora, milord.” She dropped a curtsey, her eyes flickering back to the coin.