Page 33 of Love and Other Disasters

“Course it is,” she boasted.

“Never use your real name with any of your dance partners,” Sophie warned. “Always change it.”

“It isn’t a dance we’re doing with them,” another mumbled, and ribald laughter followed her words.

“I am not only speaking of the act of lovemaking, but the beginning of the encounter, and the aftermath, too.” She pointed to the door and grimaced. “These men are rich, powerful, but they want something from you. That means you have power over them.”

Giselle narrowed her eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Regina, of the Violet Gardens Pleasure House.”

Giselle was suddenly on her feet. “‘Ere, I’ve heard about that place in London. Classy. But what are you doing here with us?”

“Madam Clover has friends everywhere. She sent me to meet you. If you want to make more money off these so-called gentlemen, I suggest you listen to what I have to say and keep an open mind. You can do better if we work together.” She pointed to the injured woman. “I want no more nothing bruises on anyone else’s features tomorrow morning.”

“What do you want us to do?”

Sophie smiled. “Gather round and I’ll explain.”

For the next half hour, she explained how things worked at Madam Clover’s pleasure house. How the ladies moved constantly from man to man, limiting the opportunities for being pawed at. How it drove the men to compete for their favors. How it drove their asking price up, too.

Giselle caught on quickly, and the others eagerly followed her example.

“Now, to the manner of your presentation tonight.”

Giselle’s hands flew to her face. “What’s wrong with how we look?”

“I’m not referring to your appearance, though less rouge would be preferred on all your cheeks.” She counted the number of ladies in the room again and glanced at the clock. It was almost time to join the gentlemen. “There is no need for you all to troop out together like pigs to a slaughter. A pair of you will remain behind.”

“Then the others will get all the money,” an older woman complained.

“The money comes to me to disperse to you all here at the end of the evening,” she promised.

“I knew she was after our money,” Giselle warned.

“An equal split.” Sophie lifted her wrist. “It all goes in here. You will have your hands full with the gentlemen. We don’t want them stealing back their money when you’re distracted, do we?”

There was enthusiastic agreement to that.

“That fat fellow did that to me last night,” one girl complained bitterly. “Pinched a penny and wouldn’t give it back unless I kissed him again.”

“Another reason to make use of me,” Sophie said with a shake of her head. “And that brings me to another point—no one takes a penny from any man that they did not earn. It all comes through me to be shared,” she warned. “So, we have a man who used his fists, another who shortchanges for services rendered. Are there any other problematic gentlemen the others should know about?”

No one volunteered anything further, and Sophie nodded.

“If you encounter an unpleasant situation and need help, signal to me or each other.”

“How are we to do that? Shout out that he’s pinching my bottom too hard?”

Sophie laughed along with them all. “Nothing so obvious. Simply do this.” She stretched up one arm high, then brought her hand down onto the back of her neck slowly.

“Lud, that’s hardly a signal of distress,” Giselle, said and then mimicked her movement. “Twill make him hungry for our titties.”

Sophie laughed again. “A distraction for him, and a signal to any of us to come to your rescue. Madam Clover’s ladies use it all the time. Distract, withdraw, and return to tease again.”

Giselle was nodding enthusiastically now. “That we will. What do you say, ladies? Shall we try it her way tonight?”

There was a chorus of agreement around the room at last.