Page 92 of A Story of Love

“That is one thing I can guarantee you, Mrs. Marlow. Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the same chair she’d just offered Dinah. “I will take some notes if you don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind.”

Lori set out the bottle of ink and inspected the quill nib while she talked. “You run this business?”

“I manage the day-to-day matters, but I am an employee, like everyone else.”

“You mean—”

“I mean the business belongs to his lordship and I work for him.”

“Could you tell me how long you’ve, er—”

“Been a whore?” Mrs. Marlowe asked wryly.

“It might help me if I knew the preferred nomenclature.”

“I prefer the term whore. It’s jarring, but more honest than courtesan or demimondaine or any other pretty words.”

Lori nodded, although she wasn’t sure whore was a word she could use.

“Like many of the others here I came to this line of work as a last resort. It is the same tired old story,” she went on, before Lori had to ask. “My father is a gentleman farmer, but he was blessed with too many daughters—there are seven of us—so several of us had to find work. I’ve never been especially good with children, so I chose to hire myself out as a lady’s companion. I worked for a woman who was young, bedridden, and dying. I had an affair with her husband.” She glanced toward the window, her eyes vague. “He said he loved me and would marry me… after his wife died and a proper mourning period.” She shrugged. “Before that could happen, I fell pregnant and had to leave.” Her voice was toneless, as if she were reciting a grocery list. “He gave me some money to live for a while, but then no more came. I lost the baby and when I tried to see him, his servants turned me away. His wife had died, and he married another woman before even a month had passed. I needed to find work, but nobody would hire me without a recommendation. I could not tell my family.” Again she shrugged. “It was an unpleasant period of my life. I’d just been evicted from the boarding house where I’d been living when I encountered the midwife who’d delivered my stillborn child.” She paused, her jaw tightening. “She told me about an establishment that took on gently bred women such as myself. The place looked like any banker or solicitor’s house. The woman who operated it was fair and vetted the clients to make sure they weren’t violent or visibly diseased. I worked there for three years, until the owner died and her son took over.” Her lips tightened. “He was not like his mother. Instead of adult women, he was interested in the money to be made from the far more lucrative virgin trade. And so I looked elsewhere and ended up at The King’s Purse.” She looked up from her thoughts and seemed almost surprised to find Lori in the room. “That was four years ago.”

“I know you don’t wish me to list the names of anyone to do with The King’s Purse, but if you told me the identity of the virgin exploiter, then I might be able to do something about him.”

Mrs. Marlowe’s lips curved into a small, cold smile. “That business has been closed down.” Her gaze sharpened as she stared at Lori. “Thanks to Lord Severn and the Earl of Grandison.”

Lori frowned. “You mean it was one of the brothels written about in the papers last year?”

“Yes.”

“Severn had only been back a little over a month when all those arrests were made. How did he manage to get involved with Grandison on such a matter? I know Lord Grandison has made the eradication of the virgin trade a goal of his for years. Why would he join up with the owner of a brothel?”

“You’ll need to ask his lordship about that.”

Lori wasn’t surprised by her answer. All Severn’s employees seemed loyal to the core. “So…what can you tell me about?” Lori decided to ask after a moment’s consideration.

“Let me give you a little background about this establishment.”

Lori nodded.

“The man who used to own The King’s Purse had once been relatively decent. But that changed as his addiction to the gambling tables grew worse. When I first started working here, the house was clean and well maintained. By the time Lord Severn won the business in a card game it was—” she broke off and made a sour face. “Let’s just say it was grim. All that began to turn around after Lord Severn took control. The changes have been nothing short of miraculous.”

“Women are still forced to sell themselves, aren’t they?”

“Nobody who works here now is forced. Every woman now keeps the majority of her fee and also decides who she services. Back when the last owner was in charge, a woman had no choice. He and his cronies used all of us—often without paying—as if we belonged to him, body and soul.”

“And that doesn’t happen with Severn?” Lori asked, not sure she really wanted the answer.

“His Lordship doesn’t use any of the women’s services—even though there are a goodly number who would be delighted. And his men always pay their way.”

Lori’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying that Lord Severn never uses any of the—the whores who work here?”

Mrs. Marlowe gave her a wryly amused look. “You have grown so heated, Miss Fontenot. I didn’t think that newspaper journalists were supposed to become so emotional about the subjects they write about. I thought they were supposed to maintain a certain degree of neutrality.”

Lori gave a forced-sounding chuckle. “You are correct. I should not let my own opinions color my investigation. It’s just that—well, I saw Severn with one of your employees the last time I was here. I’m sure you’ve heard about that?”

“You mean when you were peeping in Lord Severn’s window?”