with some other
emotion. Hal very much wanted to know what it was.
“My lord, that is a very improper question.”
“Forgive me. I shall rephrase. Miss Sutton, pray
do me the honor of showing me your ankles.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“That does me great sorrow. I simply wished to know
whether you still wear embroidered stockings.”
This time she looked shocked and more than a little
wary. “How would you know what my stockings look like?”
“So you are wearing them,” said Hal with a grin. “I
would love to see them, just to confirm that fact.” When she did nothing more
than pull her hem down further, he took mercy on her. “I saw you once, a few
weeks ago. You were with Mrs. Seton’s group, singing some sort of hymn. You’d
bent to tie your shoes, and I caught a glimpse of your stockings.”
Mel looked at him, and blinked slowly. “We were
near Mr. White’s pawn brokerage. You were by yourself.”
“Yes,” said Hal, absurdly pleased that she’d noticed
him and remembered. “I was helping my brother Arthur with a task. I remember
wondering how a reformer could afford such expensive stockings. And before you
leap to conclusions about how I know the price of such finery, I should remind
you I have a sister who likes to shop.”
“And you know about embroidered stockings from her?”
asked Mel dubiously.
He grinned again. “No. I have other sources, but
my sister does love to shop.” He looked out the window as the carriage drew to
a halt. “I told our coachman to stop down the block from Madame Thurmond’s.
It wouldn’t do to advertise our presence, especially since I do not believe she
would look kindly on anyone trying to lure away her girls.”
He stepped down from the carriage, then reached in
to Mel. As she placed her hand in his, he had the oddest sensation, like a
shock to the system. She must have felt it, too, because she looked into his
eyes as they made contact. For a moment, time stood still. For a moment, it
was like an earlier age, when he hadn’t been jaded to polite contact with
eligible females.
But an eligible female she was, so he moved away
from her as soon as she had both feet on the ground. “I believe,” he said, as
he cleared his throat, “that we can access the alley behind Madame Thurmond’s
if we walk between these buildings.”
“You would be the expert.”
“I shall take that as a compliment to my sense of
direction, as I am sure it was meant. At what time do you expect to meet up
with these, uh, ladies?”
“I didn’t set up an appointment, but the last time I
was here, they were in the alley after their supper. Just as they appear to be
now.”
As they approached the service entrance of Madame
Thurmond’s establishment, there were several people milling around outside.
Hal recognized a few of the stable lads, as well as three or four of the large
men who kept order inside the brothel. There were also a few prostitutes
having a smoke and laughing with the men. He recognized most of them, and had
employed several.
This was going to be an awkward encounter.
But the intrepid Melanie Sutton had no such
reservations. She approached the group, lowered her hood and turned her
blazing smile on the crowd. She was met with confused looks and suspicion.
She forged onward nonetheless. Hal held back and kept to the shadows.
“Permit me to introduce myself. I am Melanie Sutton
and I’m here on a task for the Friends Society of Philadelphia.”
“The wot?” asked a stable lad digging a finger in his
ear with enthusiasm.
“The Friends Society of Philadelphia. You might
know them as the Quakers.”
“You a preacher of some sort?” asked a woman wearing
a silk dressing gown and little else, despite the cold.
“No. I just wanted to speak to you about
opportunities,” said Melanie.
“Well, as long as you got coin I got an opportunity
for you and yer friend in the
emotion. Hal very much wanted to know what it was.
“My lord, that is a very improper question.”
“Forgive me. I shall rephrase. Miss Sutton, pray
do me the honor of showing me your ankles.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“That does me great sorrow. I simply wished to know
whether you still wear embroidered stockings.”
This time she looked shocked and more than a little
wary. “How would you know what my stockings look like?”
“So you are wearing them,” said Hal with a grin. “I
would love to see them, just to confirm that fact.” When she did nothing more
than pull her hem down further, he took mercy on her. “I saw you once, a few
weeks ago. You were with Mrs. Seton’s group, singing some sort of hymn. You’d
bent to tie your shoes, and I caught a glimpse of your stockings.”
Mel looked at him, and blinked slowly. “We were
near Mr. White’s pawn brokerage. You were by yourself.”
“Yes,” said Hal, absurdly pleased that she’d noticed
him and remembered. “I was helping my brother Arthur with a task. I remember
wondering how a reformer could afford such expensive stockings. And before you
leap to conclusions about how I know the price of such finery, I should remind
you I have a sister who likes to shop.”
“And you know about embroidered stockings from her?”
asked Mel dubiously.
He grinned again. “No. I have other sources, but
my sister does love to shop.” He looked out the window as the carriage drew to
a halt. “I told our coachman to stop down the block from Madame Thurmond’s.
It wouldn’t do to advertise our presence, especially since I do not believe she
would look kindly on anyone trying to lure away her girls.”
He stepped down from the carriage, then reached in
to Mel. As she placed her hand in his, he had the oddest sensation, like a
shock to the system. She must have felt it, too, because she looked into his
eyes as they made contact. For a moment, time stood still. For a moment, it
was like an earlier age, when he hadn’t been jaded to polite contact with
eligible females.
But an eligible female she was, so he moved away
from her as soon as she had both feet on the ground. “I believe,” he said, as
he cleared his throat, “that we can access the alley behind Madame Thurmond’s
if we walk between these buildings.”
“You would be the expert.”
“I shall take that as a compliment to my sense of
direction, as I am sure it was meant. At what time do you expect to meet up
with these, uh, ladies?”
“I didn’t set up an appointment, but the last time I
was here, they were in the alley after their supper. Just as they appear to be
now.”
As they approached the service entrance of Madame
Thurmond’s establishment, there were several people milling around outside.
Hal recognized a few of the stable lads, as well as three or four of the large
men who kept order inside the brothel. There were also a few prostitutes
having a smoke and laughing with the men. He recognized most of them, and had
employed several.
This was going to be an awkward encounter.
But the intrepid Melanie Sutton had no such
reservations. She approached the group, lowered her hood and turned her
blazing smile on the crowd. She was met with confused looks and suspicion.
She forged onward nonetheless. Hal held back and kept to the shadows.
“Permit me to introduce myself. I am Melanie Sutton
and I’m here on a task for the Friends Society of Philadelphia.”
“The wot?” asked a stable lad digging a finger in his
ear with enthusiasm.
“The Friends Society of Philadelphia. You might
know them as the Quakers.”
“You a preacher of some sort?” asked a woman wearing
a silk dressing gown and little else, despite the cold.
“No. I just wanted to speak to you about
opportunities,” said Melanie.
“Well, as long as you got coin I got an opportunity
for you and yer friend in the
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