Cordell clenched his jaw. The idea that his fair companion would have no other choice than to satisfy men’s desires did not sit well with him. He knew that most of the women Mary employed had chosen this profession, finding it paid better than some of the other options they might have otherwise had. And most of them enjoyed their regulars. Violence and abuse were not tolerated and those patrons were immediately stripped of their membership and harshly dealt with. Mary kept a whip near her at all times that she used on unruly clients. It was a rare occasion that such drastic measures had been taken but Cordell had been there to witness the effects firsthand. The earl had become a sniveling mess, begging for mercy. Now that Cordell thought on it, he realized that was why Miss Sims’ prominent admirer had appeared so familiar. It was because he had been a former member of Spades.
He decided that perhaps the earl should be investigated a bit further.
“Mr. Steele.” Mary lifted a brow as she drew closer. “And Miss Sims. Welcome to ye both.”
Aislynn hadn’t been expecting the cockney accent or the absence of a right arm that hung listlessly to her side, but she had heard that Mary Spade was a woman with a shaved head and who preferred to wear men’s attire. “Miss Spade.”
The woman waved a hand. “Mary, please. I don’t stand on formality among friends. Let’s retire to my private parlor to talk.”
As they threaded through the bright and cheerfully decorated brothel, Aislynn had to admit that it didn’t look quite as horrifying as she’d always imagined. Light blue furnishings and décor made it appear almost relaxing, However, when she caught a glimpse of the main receiving room through the opening in a pair of heavy, red velvet drapes, Aislynn spied several scantily clad women with their male admirers. Laughter and smoke filled the interior and she could hear a few sounds that sounded rather circumspect.
She stayed close to Mr. Steele’s side although she berated herself for her actions. She claimed not to be a damsel in distress even as she sidled up close to him as if he were her protective knight in shining armor.
She forced some distance between them as they entered Mary’s private sanctuary. Inside, the furnishings were quite simple and… bare. There were a pair of settees on one side of the room, and in the other was a desk and chair. There was not much else to recommend the room except for a few straggling decorations on a couple random tables. There was one thing of particular interest, however, and that was a large globe centered in the midst of it all. Mary walked over to it and lifted the entire northern hemisphere to reveal a decanter and glasses centered in the middle.
“Do ye take port, Miss Sims?”
Aislynn had only ever had ale or brandy the single time Mr. Steele had offered it to her, but since she didn’t want to feel like the odd man out, as it were, she nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
Their host poured a finger’s worth in three separate glasses and handed one to each of her guests before she plopped down on the settee and got comfortable. Aislynn had to admit that it must be so freeing to not have to bother with so many burdensome skirts. She envied the casual manner in which Mr. Steele almost mirrored Mary’s pose, while Aislynn’s stays made it difficult to do much more than maintain a proper posture. She thought of the times she’d played a man on the stage and how it had seemed so foreign to dress in trousers, but she was quite certain she would grow accustomed to it in due course.
“Other than introducing you to Miss Sims,” Mr. Steele began the conversation. “I was hoping you might have some valuable information for me.”
“Aye, I’m sure ye do.” Mary took a steady drink from her glass. “Unfortunately, I’ve heard nothing that would be o’ interest to ye regarding the latest murders.”
Aislynn’s heart sank.
“There was a new body today. Miss Mia Smith, a brunette.”
Mary’s brow rose, proving to Aislynn that they had discussed this topic more than once. “That is interesting.” She glanced over at Aislynn. “It must not be the hair.”
“No, I believe it must be the connection to the stage.”
Mary nodded, seeming inclined to agree. Aislynn, on the other hand, didn’t like to be discussed as though she wasn’t even in the room. She took a bracing sip of the port and was surprised at the smooth taste, the way it slid down her throat without much difficulty. “Excuse me, but if I might interject?” Two pairs of eyes turned to her and she downed the rest of the port to keep her bravado from faltering. When she was on the stage in costume it was much easier to ignore the hundreds of eyes staring at her, but when she was in a close setting like this, she was more aware of the feeling of inferiority. “Perhaps the reason has nothing to do with the theatre. While I did not know the first victim, I was friends with Geneva and Mia. We had much more in common than acting, like our straightlaced circumstances and the fact that we were all in the same workhouse.”
Mary leaned forward at this, and Mr. Steele straightened his pose as well. “Anything else?” he asked evenly.
“There are other similarities, like our desire to earn our way through talent rather than on our backs—” She looked sharply at Mary. “Of course, I did not mean to impugn?—”
Mary waved a dismissive hand. “There is no offense on my part. I know what sort of establishment I run and so do the girls who choose to make their home under my roof.”
Satisfied that she hadn’t made an enemy out of her hostess, Aislynn turned back to Mr. Steele. “I could list several things that we all had in common but I am not sure it is anything that might cause this killer to concern himself with.”
“You would be surprised,” he murmured. “A patient in Bedlam who suffered from a brain affliction discovered that he was triggered by the scent of mincemeat pies. His mother was abusive and every time he caught the scent he fell into a feverish rampage.”
Aislynn’s mouth fell slack. “I had no idea.”
“At least we have another avenue to consider,” he pointed out. “You work on a list of how you could be connected to Miss Adams and Miss Smith and I will look into Miss Flynn’s history.”
Aislynn nodded. “I expect to be there when you conduct your investigation.”
He lifted a dark brow, and she was once again struck by how handsome he was. At the moment, however, he was being nothing but arrogant. “This man nearly murdered me last night. I will not be sitting and waiting patiently in Soho like some doting wife while you look into an important matter that directly involves me. If you do not accept my invitation then I will look into Miss Flynn’s previous life on my own.”
A thunderous scowl crossed Mr. Steele’s face but before he could raise his hackles, a laugh erupted from Mary. “I like her, Cord! She’s got the sort o’ spirit that ye need.”
Rather than reply directly, he got to his feet, abruptly dismissing them both. “We have a plan in place. There is no need to keep you from your previous duties, Mary.”
Instead of appearing chastised, Mary wore a broad grin when she winked at Aislynn. “His bark is worse than his bite. He doesn’t really mean nothin’ by it.”
