The Price of Innocence (The Legacy Series) (12 page)

She placed the certificate of approval in a pile of papers on the left of her desk and then glanced at the doctor’s notes. “I see you have passed your medical examination,” she noted. “My God, you
are
a virgin!”

“Did you think I was lying?” replied Suzette indignantly.

“Perhaps,” she said, scanning over the doctor’s report. “Most Parisian girls are quite anxious to lose their virginity as soon as possible. Frankly, I find it interesting that you have not.” She lifted her eyes to Suzette. “So, did the good inspector try to talk you out of it or suggest referral to a religious institution?”

“He mentioned a religious institution, yes.”

“Which inspector interviewed you, might I ask?

“Inspector Dubois.”

“Ah, he’s one of the better ones. A little more, shall we say, polite during his interrogation than some others.”

“So, what is to happen with me next?” Suzette asked, curious to know when she’d be thrown to the wolves.

Amused over her question, Madame Laurent leaned back in her red leather chair and studied Suzette like a piece of merchandise. “Well, to be quite frank, Suzette, you’re not exactly what I would term saleable at the moment. Your hair and the condition of your skin are atrocious and will need to be taken care of before I let any of my patrons touch you.”

She picked up her quill and started to jot down a few words on a piece of paper. Suzette strained her eyes to see what it was, but couldn’t tell.

“I have plans for you already. You might be surprised to know that you’re a commodity that I must sell to the highest bidder. Virgins bring a pretty price, and I intend to use that fact to my advantage.”

Suzette was not surprised that Madame Laurent possessed calculated and heartless plans regarding the sale of her virtue.

“Well, don’t look so surprised. This is a business, not a boarding house. I run it as a business—to make money.” She shuffled a few papers around then turned her attention back to Suzette.

“Let me go over a few simple things before I have one of our girls take you to your quarters. We have thirty rooms here in the Chabanais and thirty girls. By law, we are not allowed more girls than rooms. Foolish and stifling regulations indeed,” she complained. “Otherwise, I’d have more girls if I could!”

Suzette remembered Nadine’s words—“
thirty rooms, thirty whores
.”

“All of my girls are provided room and board as part of their compensation, if they wish. I know you only have the borrowed clothes upon your back, but I do not pay for your personal clothing and incidentals. It must come out of your own pay. I’m more than happy to advance you money since you have none, but you will be indebted to me. I shall subtract what you owe me over the course of your employment during the next few months. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“I do provide my girls a large assortment of lingerie, enticing gowns, and regional costume dress for work. However, I prefer to purchase the outfits myself that I think are best for my clientele’s pleasure and the rooms where the girls are assigned.” Leaning back in her chair, she eyed Suzette and then reiterated her good fortune.

“You are fortunate, Suzette, even if you do not realize it. You may not like where you are at the moment, but at least you are alive, warm, and fed.”

Suzette still possessed unanswered questions, one of which was the curious opening that she now filled. “What happened to the other girl before me? Why do you now have twenty-nine instead of thirty? Did she quit or something?”

Madame Laurent raised one brow at Suzette’s inquisitive question, but answered it truthfully nonetheless. “The girl before you, unfortunately, caught syphilis. I cater to the best of clientele so that my girls remain disease-free; however, one of my patrons apparently found pleasure in some street trash and was infected. It angers me when a perfectly good employee of mine contracts the insidious disease and is sent to the hospital. He, on the other hand, has been banned from my establishment.”

She stood from her desk and came over to her side. Suzette found no compassion in her eyes—only superiority.

“As far as why I chose you, I have my reasons.” Madame Laurent took her hand lifting Suzette’s chin upward. “You have a sense of royalty about your demeanor. Once the rosebud is open, you will be perfect for the Louis XV Chambre. I’ll adorn you like a queen, and no doubt the men will treat you as one.” Her gaze lingered on the innocent face she held captive. “Well, at least most of them will.”

Suzette followed Madame Laurent out the door. “I’ll have Nadine show you around and give you the grand tour.”

As they entered the parlor, Suzette was surprised to see it filled with perfumed, seductive women waiting for patrons to arrive. The afternoon had slipped by, and it was nearly seven o’clock, the legal hour when the brothel could open.

A variety of prostitutes in the selection parlor lounged on divans and chairs, scantily dressed with low-cut bodices. The opulent room she had admired as a laundress turned into a scene of sirens waiting for their prey. Suzette’s heart sank at the thought that she, too, would soon be among the group waiting to be picked and deflowered.

“Nadine, come here.”

Nadine stood up and answered her mistress. She wore a Dutch-like purple gown. Her blond hair glistened, resembling the sun, cascading down her back and chest.

“Do me a favor, dear, and give Suzette a tour, will you, before the evening onslaught? When you are finished, escort her back to her room, but get her a quick bite to eat from the kitchen first. She missed supper.”

Madame Laurent left, and Nadine smirked at her assignment who still wore her undergarments. She examined Suzette from top to bottom thinking even after her bath and washed hair, it was going to take some time to turn the sparrow into a swan. Nadine resented Suzette’s intrusion into her room after having enjoyed a few months alone. As far as she was concerned, Suzette was an irritating bore.

“Don’t look like such a scared rat. I’m just going to show you around,” she snarled.

Suzette was tired of her roommate’s constant demeaning tone. “Look,” she said glaring back. “I’m not a rat, and I’m not scared. I’m just disgusted that I even have to be here with people like you!”

“You think you’re better than us?” Heads in the room turned to watch the loud disagreement ensuing between the two women.

“Give it a couple of weeks, honey, and you’ll be just like the rest of us whores—happy, satisfied, and not so high and mighty.”

The girls in the room giggled, and Nadine smiled at the affirmation received from her coworkers. She turned and walked out toward the foyer. “Follow me and I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Nadine led the way upstairs, and Suzette peered once again at the nude artwork and magnificent crystal chandelier. When they had reached the top, she stopped and waited for Suzette to join her side.

“There are thirty rooms in the brothel, all quite unique and decorated differently. Madame Laurent has spared no expense.”

Suzette wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the detailed interiors of the rooms, but she braced herself as Nadine began to open doors one by one.

“Of course, her investors give her plenty of francs to decorate in the finest for their enjoyment.”

Suzette couldn’t help but notice the sudden radiance emanating from Nadine’s face. It was obvious she enjoyed her occupation, appearing happy and satisfied.

“It’s like traveling the world in a bedroom,” she exclaimed. “There are a variety of designs—Moorish, Hindu, ancient Pompeii, Persia, China, Japan, and Africa, among others. Then if you prefer places instead of countries, there are rooms that resemble the cabin of a ship, private quarters on a train, or the Louis XV Chambre a king’s bedroom—that’s your room. Wherever and however the men prefer their fantasy, we provide a place for them to live it in the arms of a seductive woman.”

Louis XV Chambre
. The way Nadine spoke, “
that’s your room
,” it sounded more like an office than a bedchamber. Suzette’s curiosity piqued as Nadine continued.

“There are settees, large beds, pristine sheets, down-feathered cushions, mirrors, and bouquets of fresh flowers adorning each chamber. The men are given a supply of the finest tobacco and alcohol during their night of pleasure.”

Nadine stopped in front of a large ornate entrance, and Suzette read the golden placard bolted on the outside, Louis XV Chambre. Every door they passed displayed a name describing its interior contents.

“The least I can do is let you see where you’ll be working.”

Nadine placed her hands on the gold handles of two French doors, which were the only ones in the entire hallway. The other rooms had single-door entrances. The lock unlatched, and Nadine shoved both open, revealing a large, flamboyant, golden bedchamber.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” A sly smile curled her lips. Once inside, Nadine turned around and saw Suzette’s stunned facial expression. She laughed. “Come on in. You know you want to.”

Nadine walked over to a side table and turned up the lamp, illuminating the interior. The light flickered and cast a soft glow through the stained-glass shade.

“So, what do you think, Queen Suzette? Not a bad place to make a few francs each night, oui?”

Suzette stood at the threshold to a king’s room and gasped. She recognized the interior from paintings of Louis XV’s bedchamber and could barely believe what her eyes beheld. It was an exact replica, only smaller in scale.

Mirrors covered the gold gilded walls, along with paintings from Francois Boucher depicting voluptuous naked women in seductive poses. As she looked at the pictures with interest, her face flushed red as a beet. Each piece rested in gold frames, emphasizing the color of their fair naked skin.

A large canopy bed rested brazenly in the center of the room, covered in gold silk fabric that draped down the corners of the bedposts. Suzette adored canopy beds, and the beauty was overwhelming. Unable to resist the temptation, she walked over and slid her hand across the smooth coverlet. There were numerous silk pillows, with gold tassels dangling from the corners, piled high at the head of the bed. She struggled with a horrible urge to jump in the middle and enjoy every inch of luxury.

Nadine smiled as she saw the unbridled pleasure Suzette displayed over her surroundings. “Come over here,” she encouraged. “Look at the rest.”

A settee and chair with gilded wood and gold velvet seat covers rested in front of the fireplace. A side table stood by the wall, filled with chilled bottles of champagne, wine, and brandy, and crystal glasses, as well as a cigar box, brimming with fine tobacco. A fireplace with a gilded hearth lay ready, with fresh kindling and wood to be ignited if the guest so chose.

Nadine spun around in the middle of the room, her purple gown swishing as she twirled. “I love this room!” she screamed. When she stopped, she looked at Suzette and confessed why. “I’m jealous, you know.”

“What do you mean? Jealous of what?”

“Because when this room came open, I asked Madame Laurent if I could be the resident queen, but she turned me down.” She made a face and spoke in the tone of Laurent’s voice that made Suzette laugh. “Not regal enough,” she said to me. “Your face isn’t regal enough. You don’t match the room.”

Dizzy from her twirling, Nadine flopped down in the settee right behind her with a
thump
and bemoaned her fate. “So you came along with your auburn hair and regal look, and now you’re the queen whore of the Louis XV Chambre.”

“Don’t call me a whore,” Suzette said, looking at her with contempt. “I don’t like being called a whore. It’s an ugly word.”

Nadine looked at her in disbelief at her self-righteous attitude. She stood up and walked over to Suzette. “Just wait. You may be all high and mighty now, but once Madame finds someone to do the job, you’ll be a whore just like the rest of us.”

Irritated over her roommate’s attitude, she turned away and walked toward the bed. “I, on the other hand, work in the Nordic room. Madame Laurent thinks I look like a Swedish goddess with all my blond hair—Vikings and all that. Some men like that sort of thing,” she said, flipping her hair up with the palms of her hands.

Nadine ran her fingers down the wood canopy posts. “You’ll find the clientele here worth it, Suzette. If anything, you should be happy that this is not a slum whore house. The men here pay a high price for services. Most have titles—Marquises, Comtes, Dukes—or they’ve made their fortunes from business and are extremely rich. Many are private investors in the brothel too.”

“Who?” Suzette asked out of curiosity. “Who comes here?”

Nadine’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, you’ll see. Men you’ve heard of, read about in the newspaper, or are known by the property they own and the titles they keep.”

She walked over to the decanter of liquors and swirled her finger around the edge of a crystal glass, while gloating over the rich and famous men she had serviced. “They are all so unhappy. It’s quite entertaining,” she added with a smile. “They marry women to have children and produce heirs, but their wives are cold and pregnant all the time. So they come to our beds for the passion and sexual excitement they don’t receive at home.”

Suzette’s countenance dropped, for she knew it to be mostly true. Mistresses were a way of life for Parisian men, though wives rarely spoke of such matters. They just accepted it as a fact of life. Her father never talked about it, and she was sure he had always been faithful to her departed mother. Perhaps not all men were like that, or at least she hoped.

As she stood in the room looking at the opulence around her, she began to wonder what would happen in the bed that her eyes admired. What would she be required to do and at what price?

“How much?” Suzette inquired. “How much do the men pay per night?”

Without hesitation, Nadine quickly answered. “They pay at least 100 francs.” Pausing for a moment, but not wishing to go into other details, she added, “Sometimes much more, depending on special services they may require.”

“What do you mean by special services?” Suzette couldn’t imagine.