"Fortunately for you," her hostess remarked dryly. "Bessie was forced into this, er,
choice
by the time I met her. I merely assured her her safety and well-being by offering her my protection."
"Your protection?" Harriet echoed stupidly. Truly, things were not going at all as she had anticipated—not that she had known precisely what to expect, but she had certainly not 32
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thought to find that the owner of such an establishment would resemble a respectable merchant's wife more closely than she did anything else. Indeed, nothing so far had given the slightest indication that this discreetly elegant house lived up to the name Temple of Venus.
Mrs. Lovington continued to survey her unexpected visitor, her rather severe expression softening a little. Certainly the young lady seemed genuinely concerned for her friend from the country, and there was not the least hint of condescension or condemnation in her charming countenance, which expressed nothing so much as lively curiosity.
"Yes, protection. You see, I know what a difficult life one like Bessie's can be—disgraced and abandoned, forced to earn your own living. With no one to help you or to give you references there is but one thing to do and that leaves you at the mercy of your, ah, patrons. I give girls like Bessie a decent place to live and provide them with a background that is exclusive enough so that they only meet people of quality." Something in Harriet's face caused Mrs. Lovington to lean forward, her voice low and earnest. "I assure you, I found Bessie on the streets where she had been plying her trade for some time before I met her. But perhaps you would now like to speak with Bessie yourself." She reached up and gave the nearby bellpull a vigorous tug.
Bessie must have been waiting very nearby for the door opened almost immediately and she appeared in a demure morning dress of primrose jaconet with a delicate fichu and a lace collar trimmed with matching ribbon. She smiled shyly at 33
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Harriet as she took her seat. "Good day, my lady. I knew how it would be and I warned Mrs. Lovington that you would visit." Harriet leaned forward. "You look very well, Bessie. Are you happy here?" A shadow flitted across Bessie's face, but she answered readily enough. "Oh yes, my lady. We are all well looked after and Mrs. Lovington is ever so good to us." The grateful look she directed at the proprietress of the Temple of Venus left no doubt in the visitors' minds that Mrs. Lovington at least had nothing to do with any unhappiness that Bessie might be suffering.
At this moment Mrs. Lovington, apparently having assessed the situation to her satisfaction and concluding that Bessie's welfare was not threatened in the least by her surprise caller, rose and, smiling graciously at Harriet and Rose, prepared to depart. "I can see you are anxious to discuss old times and share news of mutual acquaintances so I shall leave you to yourselves. I shall have Jamison bring you some refreshment. Do ring for more if you wish." With that she closed the door behind her leaving the three women alone to a rather awkward silence.
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Harriet was the first to recover herself and she proceeded straight to the question in her customarily blunt manner.
"Bessie, what ever are you doing in a place like this? This is not like you. Why I had thought you hoped to marry and have a farm of your own someday. London is quite a long way from that."
Bessie's eyes filled with tears. "And so I meant to, my lady. Do not be too hard on me, I beg of you. Things—things happen to a girl that ... that change her mind, so to speak."
"What things?" Harriet fixed her with an intensely questioning gaze. After all, she was not one to sit idly by and watch someone give up her dreams.
"Oh, a girl grows up, learns about life, and changes her mind." Bessie gave a toss of her head trying for a tone of airy insouciance that failed miserably.
It did not fool Harriet in the least. Laying a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder she smiled sympathetically. "Now, Bessie, you know as well as I do that this is so much nonsense. Do tell me what went wrong."
"Oh, my lady," the young woman whispered. She gulped several times, fighting for control. "I was that much a fool. I—
I mean it was ... it was Mr. George," she blurted out at last.
"What? Squire Westcott's son? I suppose I am not surprised," Harriet responded dryly. "He certainly has an unsavory reputation where women are concerned. But I am 35
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surprised at you, Bessie. I would not have thought you would fall for his empty promises."
"Oh no," Bessie hastened to assure her. "I did not. I would never believe such things and I have always done my best to ignore him though he does put himself in one's way, if you understand me."
Harriet nodded grimly. George Westcott's reputation as a predator on attractive young women was well known in the surrounding countryside. Certainly someone as pretty as Bessie would have caught his eye long ago. "Go on," she commanded grimly.
"It was last Midsummer's Eve during the festivities and I was walking home across the fields. He was drunk and kept asking me to give him a kiss. I tried to laugh it off and keep going, but he would not let me. At last he grabbed me. I managed to break free from him and I ran. I would have escaped because he was too drunk to chase me very far, but my foot got stuck in a rabbit hole. I stumbled and fell and he caught me." She finished with chilling finality. "There was nothing to do. I hoped and prayed that nothing would come of it, but—"
"But did you not tell someone, complain to your family?" Harriet interrupted.
"Who would I tell? What would they do? They could do nothing and they would blame me. Everyone knows what George Westcott is. They would say I should have known better and stayed out of his reach and the fact that I did not must have meant that I wished for it," Bessie replied simply.
"When my father found out I was with child, he threw me out. 36
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What was I to do except what I have done? I could not work as a maid or a seamstress for I had no references, so I came to London. I was alone here on the streets picking up what work I could before I was too far along when Mrs. Lovington found me. She guessed my story—it is common enough after all—and made me come home with her. I did sewing and light work for her until my time came and since then I have done all that I could to repay her for her kindness." Harriet, who had sat quietly during this sad recital suddenly found her voice. "What ... what happened to the baby?"
"It never drew breath, poor little thing. It was born blue and so tiny it was a mercy it died." Bessie replied softly. "Mrs. saw that I was well taken care of and that it got a proper funeral."
"Could you not have gone home then? Surely your father would have forgiven you."
Bessie shook her head firmly. "No. He said I was no longer a child of his and that I was never to see any of them again." The resignation in her voice made Harriet want to cry out, or, at the very least, murder both Bessie's father and George Westcott. "I miss the little ones," Bessie continued, "and I wish I could get word to my mother that I am well cared for."
"I will write a letter for you," Harriet volunteered. "I shall send it to the vicar and he can let your mother know that you are well."
"Could you, my lady?" Bessie's face lit up with a sudden smile. "It's knowing that they're worried—or at least my 37
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mother is—that is the hardest to bear. I could rest easy if I knew they were assured that I was safe."
"But what will become of you?" Harriet wondered aloud.
"Surely you cannot continue on like this."
"It is not so bad, my lady. In many ways I am freer here than I would be if I were a maid in a respectable establishment. I have a room to myself and I have become friends with some of the girls here. Of course Mrs. Lovington does try to find us other employment because she has only so much room and she is always trying to save others like me, but it is not easy discovering people who will take us. When you saw me the other night I was out looking for any poor girl who needed help. One of our girls had met a very kind gentleman who set her up as mistress of her own establishment in Marylebone so we had space for someone new and it was my turn to go look for someone." Harriet was thoughtful for a long time. "This Mrs. Lovington appears to be a singularly kind individual. I would not have expected that in such a person."
"Oh, she is indeed a most wonderful person." Bessie was quick to rush to her benefactress's defense. She was a respectable housekeeper herself until her master forced himself on her. The mistress found out about it and she was let go without a reference. She started the Temple of Venus to help people like herself and here we are." Harriet had listened to this tale attentively, but with a fair amount of healthy skepticism. There was a good deal missing and she was not so convinced as Bessie was of the purity of the proprietress's motives. Harriet was not about to leave 38
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until she had assured herself to her own satisfaction of Bessie's continuing welfare. However, it would not do to let on to Bessie that she harbored any reservations about the entire arrangement. "It is a most fascinating story. I find I should like to know more of Mrs. Lovington. Perhaps she could favor me with a little more of her time."
Bessie jumped up. "I am sure she could. I shall fetch her and you will see for yourself." She hurried from the room leaving Harriet and Rose to their own devices.
"I don't like it, my lady," Rose began as soon as the door had shut behind the girl. "It is not a place for a respectable young lady."
"But that is just the point, Rose," Harriet responded reasonably. "In the world's eyes Bessie was no longer a respectable young lady when she came here."
"And you won't be either, if you continue to stay here," was the grim rejoinder. Rose opened her mouth to say more, but was cut off by the sound of someone at the door.
"Bessie informs me that you wish to speak with me further."
"Yes." Harriet straightened and composed her ordinarily sunny features into what she hoped was an impressively severe expression. "I am concerned for Bessie. This is no life for a young girl from the country. It may do very well for the others you have saved, but Bessie is not that sort of girl. She is different."
"My dear young lady, we were none of us that sort of girl. We are all different, but circumstances have forced us into a 39
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common situation." Mrs. Lovington did not bother to hide the irony in her voice.
"But she cannot remain here. She has the rest of her life to consider." Harriet came to a sudden decision. "I shall take her back with me. She does not need references to do that. I shall make her my—" Harriet caught sight of the horrified expression on Rose's face and hastily amended her plan. "I believe I can find a place for her as an upstairs maid at Fareham Park."
"And force her to return to the scene of her disgrace?" the Temple of Venus owner inquired scornfully. "She would never consent to it."
"But she cannot stay here," Harriet protested. "With the exception of one unfortunate incident she is a respectable young girl and this is not, is not..."
"A respectable profession?" Mrs. Lovington's voice dripped sarcasm. "And tell me, my dear young woman, how is it any less respectable than journeying to London every Season in search of an advantageous match? Is Bessie doing anything so very different from the young miss who contracts an alliance with a man she barely knows and whose desirability depends on the number of carriages and amount of pin money he can provide her? Are the young women showing themselves off at Almack's so very different from the ones parading their wares in Covent Garden?" Harriet stared at the woman on the other side of the desk. She had never precisely thought of it in those terms, but now that she did, she had to agree that Mrs. Lovington did have a point. Certainly Harriet herself had been disgusted during her 40
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first Season by the girls who spent their days dressing and flirting in an attempt to catch the interest of the most eligible parti. She had been appalled in particular by the bevy of beauties who had thrown themselves at one man who was so ill favored and lacking in charm that only his rank and an income of thirty thousand a year recommended him. Yes, it had been the very venality of the
ton
that had made her resolve never to participate in it again, yet here she was in London, much against her own wishes, constantly being forced to be on her best behavior—always a struggle for Harriet—simply because her sister was bent on making her own brilliant match. At least Elizabeth seemed to be genuinely fond of Lord Rokeby, but Harriet had occasionally wondered whether she would have been quite as fond had he not offered her the possibility of being the wife of such a highly respected husband and mistress of such a fine estate. But then Harriet had never been able to understand Elizabeth's relish for the role of wife and mother. For Harriet marriage did not offer inducement attractive enough to assume so many added responsibilities or to give up her own independence. True, married women were accorded a greater degree of freedom than a single young lady, but not enough to tempt Harriet into spending the rest of her existence with some man who would consider it his right to order her life. Now that she thought about it, Harriet realized that Mrs. Lovington's assertions did not seem so very farfetched. "I suppose that there is some degree of truth in what you say," she conceded slowly, "but the woman who marries is at least 41
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