The Price of Innocence (The Legacy Series)

by Vicki Hopkins

  Suzette could not believe what she heard. “May I at least spend the night here, Monsieur? Surely you don’t expect me to sleep on the streets.” Her voice shook from the fear. “I will leave in the morning.” She wanted to kneel at his feet and beg for mercy, but before he would even give her the chance to plead any longer, he finished the deed he was paid to do.

  “There’ll be no sleeping under my roof once I fire an employee. Get your things and get out.” He swung around and stomped back to his office slamming the door behind him.

  Suzette turned to Flora, who was standing nearby. “Flora, he cannot throw me out on the street like this, can he?”

  “There’s nothing you can do. You best be going before he calls the police to have you forcibly removed. He’s done it before.”

  Not wishing to bring his unbearable anger upon herself, Flora turned away from Suzette and finished her duties for the day. The other women who stood by said nothing. No words of comfort or help met Suzette’s ears—only a cold silence and disregard that shattered her faith in humanity.

  The unbearable cruelty caused hot tears to stream down her face as she ran upstairs to her cot and packed her few things into her small, tattered suitcase. She shook in fear as she walked down the wooden staircase, ignored by the women she passed, and exited the door to the street. Gas lamps lit her path, but only a few people and carriages traversed the avenue.

  Afraid her life was in danger, she turned right and walked aimlessly down the sidewalk. Tears trickled down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She tried to keep her wits about her, as she wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve to stop the flood.

  Her feet carried her in the same direction she walked every day for months—straight toward the Chabanais. Almost blindly, Suzette headed for the only place she knew where others knew of her existence. She thought of the interior warmth and beauty of the brothel and wondered if Madame Laurent would be merciful enough to allow her to spend the night. She would make her way to the shelter tomorrow on the other side of town.

  As she arrived at the Chabanais, she stood hesitantly by the corner of the building watching the brothel entrance. She spotted a few well-to-do men in black top hats leaving the establishment in waiting carriages. Fearful to approach until everyone departed, she stood in the shadows for fifteen minutes until everything went quiet.

  When Suzette felt it was safe, she scurried down the dark alley until she came to the back entrance. She turned the doorknob, and to her surprise found it unlocked. Desperate, she opened the door and stepped inside hearing voices and activity in the kitchen. When she was spotted in the doorway, it grew silent. Every eye turned in her direction. Madame Laurent saw her shivering body and came to her side.

  “Suzette! My God, what are you doing here? You look absolutely frightful!”

  Unable to control the floodgate of tears, Suzette stood rigid, sobbing like a child. “They—he—he fired me, Madame. I have nowhere to go, to sleep—nowhere . . .” She couldn’t finish the words.

  Madame Laurent hugged Suzette and smiled at Nadine over the success of her plan. A few girls standing nearby giggled.

  “You can spend the night here, dear. I couldn’t bear to think of you sleeping in the alley. God knows you’d be raped by morning or found dead by the police, oui?”

  Her words frightened Suzette so much that she stepped farther inside the ironic haven of the brothel, fearful of what was behind her back.

  “Follow me.”

  She grabbed Suzette’s hand and led her up a back staircase at the end of the long hallway that she had walked daily to carry out her duties. The narrow stairs climbed upward to the far end of the second floor. After a few short steps down another hallway, she opened a door to a room.

  “Most of my girls live here at the brothel.”

  Suzette, frightened and uncomfortable, hoped that the brothel mistress wouldn’t reveal too much about life inside a house of sin. Madame Laurent walked over to a closet and flung open the double doors to reveal a large assortment of beautiful clothes and nightgowns.

  “There’s a bath chamber adjacent to this room through that door. Take a bath, and you can use this for the night.”

  Suzette gasped at the beauty of the silken material, thanking her profusely.

  “I’m so grateful for your kindness, Madame Laurent.”

  “Don’t think twice about it. I only ask that you stay in this room the remainder of the evening. I’m afraid there are a few stragglers with some of my girls, and I don’t wish them to find you wandering around. Wash up and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Madame Laurent smiled reassuringly. “Sleep well, Suzette. At least tonight you are safe, oui?”

  She watched as the door closed behind her and felt relieved that she was off the streets. Suzette sat down on the bed and felt the softness welcome her tired body. Her hand brushed the white linen pillowcase, no doubt washed and carried by her own toil. When she pushed down on the fabric, the goose down feathers plumped at her touch, and Suzette began to cry.

  She was surrounded by luxury. Two beds occupied the room, and Suzette wondered who slept in the other. Gorgeous coverlets, rugs, light fixtures, and framed artwork decorated the interior. It was nothing like the opulence she viewed in the parlor downstairs, but it held its own beauty and comfort. It was such a stark contrast to the dark room with four cots that she slept in for months.

  Suzette enjoyed the momentary comfort, but knew it would not last forever. Soon, she would see the Daughters of Charity again. She had gone full circle, back to the beginning with no work and facing the prospects of living on the streets.

  Unable to bear the uncertainties of the future, she buried her head in the soft pillow and sobbed. When she had finished pouring out her heart, she made her way into bath chamber and washed her face before climbing under the sheets in the silky nightgown. Finally, exhaustion won its battle, and Suzette drifted off into a deep sleep.

  She woke early the next morning to find Nadine in the other bed. Not too keen on her roommate, she ignored her presence while focusing on her new-found comfort. For the first time in many months, she felt pampered. If it were not for the fact she was sleeping inside a brothel, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. It felt no different than a comfortable boarding house.

  As she lay on her back, she stared at the ceiling above thinking about what to do next. Nadine’s sleepy voice interrupted her pondering.

  “I see you’re awake.” She sat up in bed and looked at Suzette wrapped like a baby in blankets pulled up under her chin. “Madame Laurent warned me that you were my new roomy.”

  Nadine heaved a sigh, flung off her blankets, and stood up stark naked. She stretched out both arms over her head and let out a loud yawn.

  Suzette’s eyes widened. Nadine’s body curved in every direction, and at the sight of her unashamed nakedness, Suzette turned her face in the other direction. Her long, blond hair cascaded about her exposed breasts. She looks like Lady Godiva, only without the white horse, Suzette thought.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Nadine quipped, disgusted over Suzette’s reaction. “It’s not like you’ve never seen a woman’s body before. You look at your own every day!”

  She snatched a black silk robe from the foot of her bed and slipped her arms through the sleeves. After pulling the sash tight around her waist, she warned Suzette.

  “If you intend on staying here, you might as well get over your queasiness for naked bodies.” Her feet slid through her open-toed slippers as she continued. “Believe me, you’ll see them all the time . . . everywhere.”

  Suzette shot back in anger. “I have no intention of staying here.”

  Nadine smirked. “Oh? And where will you go? Wander the streets and sleep in alleys?”

  Her roommate sauntered into the bath chamber and left Suzette stewing over her words. A few minutes later she came back insisting that she get dressed and head downstairs.<
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  “We don’t dilly-dally in the mornings around here either. Every one of us has chores to do in order to keep this place looking as nice as it is. Bridgette will wish to speak with you.”

  “Bridgette?”

  “Madame Laurent. That’s her first name, but she doesn’t let everybody call her that.”

  Nadine dressed and then impatiently waited for Suzette to do the same. She looked at her in disgust, as she slipped into her dirty dress she had arrived in the night before. Annoyed over the smell, she spoke her displeasure.

  “My God. Don’t you have anything else?” she complained with a heartless sneer.

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

  Suzette opened the door and walked ahead of Nadine, hoping to get away from her, but then she realized she didn’t know which way to go. Nadine grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her along toward the back staircase, causing Suzette to stumble.

  “Come along. This way.” Nadine pranced down the stairs and burst into the kitchen with Suzette in tow. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she announced, as she hurled her into the middle of the room.

  “Really, Nadine, is that necessary?”

  Madame Laurent flashed a disapproving glare. Her action of protest in Suzette’s defense surprised her. Three other women stood in the kitchen clad in robes, munching on pastries and drinking coffee.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Suzette spotted a tray of pastries, and her tongue licked her lips. She hadn’t eaten since noon the day before and was famished. Bridgette encouraged her to partake.

  “Go ahead and have something to eat.” She pushed the tray of pastries in her direction, and everyone watched Suzette reach for a croissant. She shoved it in her mouth and devoured it within a few moments. Bridgette poured coffee in a cup, added a bit of cream and sugar, and handed it to Suzette, who gratefully received its contents.

  “I’m afraid not many of us drink tea, but if you wish, I can boil you a pot of hot water.”

  She shook her head no, while holding the warm cup between the palms of her hands. “No, this will do fine.” After a few sips of coffee, she began to hunger for another croissant. “May I?”

  “Of course, eat as many as you like and get your fill. When you’re done, come find me in my office, and we’ll talk,” she said, while patting her on the shoulder. She flashed a sympathetic smile and then left Suzette alone in the kitchen with the other women.

  “Madame Laurent is a nice lady.” A thick Irish accent caught Suzette’s attention, and she turned her head in the woman’s direction. “We are all fortunate to live here.”

  Suzette looked at a fiery redhead whose porcelain fair completion accentuated the hue of her hair. She was gorgeous.

  “I appreciate her taking me in for the night. Truly, I do,” she replied, with a mouth full of pastry. She swallowed a lump down her throat. “I’m sorry. Forgive my rudeness. I’m really hungry.”

  Suzette turned and looked at the other woman who stood nearby, fascinated by her Asian appearance. She was petite in stature, and her midnight black hair shined like onyx. After staring at her for some time, the woman smiled in response and encouraged her, as well.

  “You’d be a fool if you return to the streets. We have warm beds and plenty of food.”

  The free advice flowing Suzette’s way began to make her nervous. Nadine stood silently by listening to the conversation with a silly grin on her face. Like a cornered animal, Suzette wanted to escape the glaring eyes of prostitutes, who were clearly trying to sway her decision. She warily looked at all three of them, and then swallowed hard, forcing the last bit of food down to her stomach.

  “Could one of you show me to Madame Laurent’s office?”

  She expected Nadine to do the honors, but was surprised when the Irish redhead leaped forward and grabbed her hand. “Follow me. I’ll show you the way.”

  Pulled out the kitchen door, through the parlor, and into the entranceway, Suzette had no time to protest her rash treatment. Before a word of displeasure could leave her lips, she suddenly found herself standing in the opulent foyer of the brothel. Suzette halted and pulled her hand from the woman’s grasp with a quick jerk.

  She stood stunned in the middle of the room, enthralled over its beauty. A broad, sweeping staircase with a plush red carpet, led to the second floor. Potted palm plants decorated the area, with mahogany side tables brimming with fresh flowers. A deep, rich oriental rug paved the floor for the arrival of royalty and aristocrats. However, the most impressive site was the enormous crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above.

  “Oh, my God,” she cried, “this is beautiful!”

  The redhead laughed as she watched Suzette’s head crook backwards to the ceiling, eyeing the dangling crystal orbs that sparkled overhead.

  “I’m Annette, by the way,” she said. “You’ve seen nothing yet, if you think this is pretty.”

  Suzette lowered her stare from the crystal chandelier and followed Annette to a closed door off to the right of the foyer. After a quick knuckle tap on the wooden door, Madame Laurent’s voice called out and bid them entrance.

  “Here she is,” announced Annette with a smile.

  Suzette found Madame Laurent behind a large mahogany desk sitting in a red leather chair, which surrounded her like a queen’s throne. Annette closed the door, and Suzette jumped after hearing it shut. Nervous and alone, she turned toward Madame Laurent.

  “Please, have a seat.”

  The brothel mistress pointed to the chair in front of her desk. Slowly, Suzette walked to a cushioned seat and sat down giving her derrière comfort.

  Madame Laurent focused on Suzette. She smiled at the pretty, regal face. It looked as if she had washed it the night before, but she needed so much more. Her hair was filthy, and she smelled horrible. Suzette’s nails harbored black dirt underneath, and her poor hands were cracked and red.

  “So tell me, Suzette, have you thought anymore about my offer? Since you’re unemployed, I would think you would be interested in becoming one of my girls.” Madame Laurent carefully studied the movement of Suzette’s body, which she noticed stiffened over her inquiry.

  Suzette lowered her head and broke eye contact. She folded her hands in her lap. “I do not think, Madame, that this is an occupation I wish to pursue.”

  Madame Laurent flung back, “And what occupation do you think you can pursue? You were not exactly successful as a laundress. Without references, do you think you’ll find work quickly anywhere else?”

  Suzette shifted in her seat, which only encouraged her interrogator. “At least here, you’d have a comfortable and clean place to live, and a much better paying position.”

  “Yes, but not my reputation,” Suzette interrupted, raising her eyebrows in protest.

  “Reputation?” She grinned slyly. “I have one of the most revered reputations in Paris among the male population. There’s something to be said, Suzette, about meeting the needs of men who cannot find satisfaction in their marriage beds. At least here, they find comfort and passion.”

  She paused for a moment to soften her tone and confidently leaned back in her red leather throne. Suzette said nothing for some time and then finally answered.

  “Perhaps, but I’m—I’m a virgin, Madame, and I don’t wish to give myself to strange men.”

  Madame Laurent laughed aloud at the absurdity of her answer. “I would think, my dear, it would be a small price to pay—the loss of one’s virginity—when you weigh the dire consequences you face. I dare say, you are homeless, and will be crawling back to the Daughters of Charity again. I do hope they have room. If not, you’ll end up prostituting yourself on the street anyway, as soon as your stomach continues to gnaw at you day and night. Your feet and hands will be cold from sleeping on the hard ground. You’ll no doubt be raped within a week, because you’ll have no one to protect you, diseased within a month, and dead within three.”

  The l
ast words that fell from the mistress’s lips were cold and cruel. Madame Laurent allowed the harsh reality of her situation sink in. Surely, it would produce the fear necessary to sway her decision.

  “Do you really think losing your virginity is too great a price to pay in order to find safe shelter, a warm bed, clothing, and food in your stomach each day?”

  She waited long enough without a response and stood up from behind her desk. Madame Laurent walked to Suzette’s side and hovered above her shaking body, watching the young girl’s knees bob up and down like apples in a barrel of water.

  “Being a prostitute does have its rewards. You’ll soon learn about fleshly pleasures you have no idea exist,” she offered in a sultry voice. She curled a smile upon her red lips and reached out her hand to brush a stray curl from the Suzette’s face.

  “Don’t be a foolish woman, Suzette. I dare say you have no other choice.”

  Suzette felt horrified. Do I actually have no other choice? What about my future? She looked up at Madame Laurent’s face, wondering if her prophesy were true. If I walk out that door right now, will I be dead in three months? Her mind swirled with wicked possibilities that awaited her on the streets. She desperately tried to convince herself that she could find work elsewhere, and then wondered if there was another way around the Madame’s offer.

  “May I stay here and work in some other capacity for you? Maybe you need a housekeeper or cook—anything other than what you’re offering me!”

  “No,” she replied emphatically. There was no room for negotiation. “In fact, if you do not accept my offer now, here this minute, you might as well get up and walk out the door, Suzette. I won’t waste another night giving you a warm bed for nothing in return.”

  Madame Laurent unfeelingly turned away from Suzette, walked behind her desk, and sat down. She picked up her quill pen, dipped it in the ink well, and began writing notes on a piece of paper, determined to ignore the sniveling, foolish girl in her office.