And that was enough of that.
With his jaw set, Cornell pushed any further thought of his past and the intriguing Miss Hill out of his mind and set to work.
Chapter 3
Pleasant stretched her arms behind her head and looked at her accomplishments of the day. She was rather pleased that she’d managed to sew two more boots together, as well as starting a pair of kid slippers when she finally set down her tools. Her stomach was growling, for the sun was nearly set, but her workday had just begun. There was still laundry to gather and finish before it was time for bed.
And then she would start the process all over again. She just kept telling herself that it would all be worth it in the end. She might even make enough from her apprenticeship that Mr. Reed might consider taking her on full time and she could quit the laundry service altogether. But then, that was probably just an unattainable dream, like many things in her imagination, girlish fantasies that she had long since pushed aside for the harsh realities to survive.
“Do you need me to hail a hackney for you?”
She glanced at her employer, who stood framed in the doorway, his negligent pose completely alluring. He looked just as he did at lunchtime in his casual attire, and it nearly stole her breath. No other man had ever done that to her before. Granted, several had propositioned her and even made advances, but she had rebuffed them time and again. It was one reason she’d always covered her hair. It wasn’t out of any sense of personal vanity, other than the fact it had always drawn unwanted attention.
Until now. She’d rather liked the fact he’d flung her covering to the side and demanded that she keep it off. Had daydreamed about it for the rest of the day, because any recognition that she received from him was far from undesired.
But if she wished to keep her position and not turn into a fallen woman, she had better keep her focus on shoes and nothing more.
Pleasant recalled that he’d asked her a question, so she said, “I’ll be fine, but thank you.”
He frowned, and she almost smiled. He scowled more than anyone else she knew. “But the weather is barely inhabitable out there.” He paused. “How far away do you live?”
“Not far,” she demurred. “It’s but a short walk.” She didn’t want to tell him that she had to collect her basket of laundry from Madame LeFleur’s first. And if she wished to keep the lady’s business, she had best get on her way. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, she scurried outside.
The brisk wind nearly stole her breath. She had nearly forgotten that it was winter with the cheery fire burning in the back room of Mr. Reed’s shop. It had kept her quite comfortable all day. It wouldn’t be the same when she returned home, for they had to conserve their coal, but at least she would be out of the weather.
As she walked, Pleasant was glad that she hadn’t worn pattens that day. The metal would surely cause her to slide all over the slick cobblestones. Even so, she placed her steps carefully, so that she wouldn’t have an accident.
Pleasant had never liked going to Madame LeFleur’s establishment, but since she was one of her better paying customers, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the servant’s entrance, as she normally did for a delivery.
It was quickly opened by one of the ladies who worked there, and that was using the term rather graciously. Pleasant had never cared for Violet, and she was quite sure the feeling was mutual. With kohl-lined eyes and bright, henna-red hair, a dress that was barely covering her bodice, Violet snapped, “Where ’ave ye been all day? The Madame’s in a near fit!” She grabbed hold of Pleasant’s arm and hauled her roughly inside.
“I’m… sorry,” Pleasant muttered. “I have a new position with the cordwainer and I—”
“I dinna want t’ ’ear yer excuses,” the woman returned abruptly. She inclined her head toward the hallway. “She’s waitin’ for ye ’n th’ parlor.”
“But…” Pleasant stared toward that area uncertainly. “I always pick up the basket at the door.”
Violet crossed her arms. “I’m just doin’ wha’ she told me,” she said impatiently. “Now go, if’n ye wanna keep yer job here.”
Pleasant clenched her fists in frustration, but seeing as how there was no way to refuse, for her existence truly was in another’s hands, she strode forward.
As she drew closer, she heard raucous laughter drifting out from the open doorway. She had never dared to traverse this far, but then, she had never needed to before. For the past six months, she had always been greeted by one of the Madame’s “ladies” at the back door where they would conduct business. However, she’d never been this late with a pick-up before.
She wasn’t sure whether she ought to knock or not, but decided that it would seem rather foolish to do so. With a lift of her chin, Pleasant entered the room.
The first thing she saw was Madame LeFleur herself sitting and smoking a cheroot near the fireplace directly across from a well-dressed man. She was attired in a dark green, satin gown that showed off her black hair to perfection. It was only the second time Pleasant had seen the elusive Madame.
However, she did her best to focus on the lady and not the other people dotted about the room. One woman was sitting on a gentleman’s lap on the settee, giggling coquettishly, while another couple was standing off to one corner, having a rather lewd conversation, if the heated glance in the man’s eyes was anything to go by as he stared at the harlot’s nearly exposed bosom.
Pleasant stood uncertainly for a moment, but then the Madame glanced up and noticed her. “Ah, there is my wayward washerwoman,” she purred with a twist of her lips.
With a respectful curtsy, Pleasant said, “I’m very sorry about that, Madame LeFleur. I meant to send word earlier.” She explained about her apprenticeship with Mr. Reed, and when she did, she might have imagined it, but the man sitting next to the lady seemed to raise his brows in recognition. And now that she studied him briefly, she thought there might actually be a bit of a resemblance between him and her employer. But since her focus was placating the lady, she said, “I won’t have any problems getting the wash back to you first thing in the morning.”
The Madame shrugged indifferently. “I’m afraid that I had to go with someone else.” Pleasant’s hopes instantly sank, although she tried to not let it show.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Pleasant turned to leave.
“However,” the Madame spoke up. “I asked Violet to send you in to see me, for I have a rather different proposition for you.”
Pleasant wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that, but she slowly turned back around. “Yes?”
Her gaze was sly, her lips curved in invitation. “I have several clients that would pay handsomely for an untouched innocent. When I mentioned my lovely washerwoman, there was quite a bit of interest.”
A stone settled in the pit of Pleasant’s stomach. “No, thank you.” Again, she turned to go. And again, the lady’s words caused her to pause.
“You cost me quite a bit of trouble today. It’s not often that I let such a slight pass without consequence. Besides, it’s not as if you will need to save your purity for a husband someday. You’re not a fresh, London debutante who needs to concern herself with such nuances.”
“That may be,” Pleasant returned firmly, once more facing her former employer. “But I must decline your offer—”
“How much?”
Pleasant gasped as her gaze shifted to the man sitting with Madame LeFleur. While he was rather handsome in appearance, she had no desire to copulate with him. “Did you not hear—?”
She was cut off as if she hadn’t even spoken. “I should think twenty guineas ought to do it,” the Madame returned rather shrewdly.
Pleasant watched in stunned silence as the man stood up, withdrew a purse from his jacket pocket, counted out the requisite gold coins and handed them to the lady. She instantly shoved them into her bodice. “You are welcome to use one of my rooms if you wish, Lord Haverton.”
