A Royal Kiss and Tell

Fortunately, Mrs. Mansfield, the proprietor of this decrepit house, so wretchedly dark and dank within, did not know who Leo was, other than someone she had deemed important and thereby felt entirely comfortable demanding an outrageous amount of coin to meet Isidora Avalie. “Yes, of course! Winsome lass, that one,” Mrs. Mansfield had said, as she’d plucked at the loose threads on the arm of her chair. The woman’s girth alone was testament to the success of her despicable enterprise. On a table beside her was decanted wine and a plate of meats and cheeses and nuts, as if she planned to snack her way through the evening while women were subjected to God knew what in the rooms one reached through a very dark and narrow flight of stairs.

“It’s quite a compliment to ask for her by name,” Mrs. Mansfield continued, eyeing his clothing. “You look familiar, my lord. Have you visited us before?”

“How much for the girl?” Leo asked coolly.

“Well, she’s one of my best, she is. She’s Weslorian, you know, and they are particularly skilled in the art of pleasure. I get the highest coin for her.”

Leo never resorted to violence. Even in his youth, he’d avoided tumbles with friends—the thought of striking someone or something nauseated him. But he’d never wanted to punch someone in the mouth quite like he wanted to punch the leering smile off of Mrs. Mansfield.

He negotiated what was an extortionist’s rate for the lass, and when he handed over the money, Mrs. Mansfield hoisted herself from the chair and beckoned him to follow. She showed him to a small shabby room with a worn red velvet settee that looked as if it had been host to any number of gentlemen’s asses. There was a narrow gag-inducing bed in the corner, the sheets rumpled from use. Mrs. Mansfield summoned Isidora Avalie from somewhere behind a door in the room. “Hurry along girl, there’s a gentleman asking specially for you.”

Isidora entered the room timidly. She looked very uncomfortable, clad as she was in scarcely a dressing gown. She had dark hair and dark eyes, but Leo was struck by how vacant her eyes looked. She stared at him blankly for a moment then cast her gaze to the floor.

“What are you doing standing there?” Mrs. Mansfield said irritably to the girl and pushed her into the middle of the room, so that she was standing directly before Leo.

“You have an hour, milord,” Mrs. Mansfield said. “I’ll knock on the door ten minutes to, and give you time to dress.” And with that, she’d gone out.

Isidora did not look up. She was trembling. “Bon den,” he said. Good evening. “Weslorina?”

He hadn’t meant to startle her; he’d meant to assure her by speaking her native language. But the language panicked her. She’d turned and lunged for the door, but Leo was able to leap ahead of her to keep her from leaving before he could speak. She tearfully begged him in Weslorian and English not to hurt her, to let her go.

“For God’s sake, I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you,” he’d insisted.

“Why?”

“Because I do, Isidora. You deserve better than this life. Help me find the others, help me bring the men who did this to you to justice.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You do,” he said gently but firmly. “Allow me to help you and the others.”

She immediately dissolved into tears. “I can’t,” she said tearfully. “They will force my father to give back the money. My family won’t take me back, not after this. I’ll have no place to go but the street—”

“You do have a place,” he said, although he had no idea where she might go—he would have to think of it. But he would think of something.

He gestured for her to sit on the foul settee and tell him how she’d gotten here. Her family was from the mountains of Wesloria, on the border with Alucia, she said. He knew the mountains were an impoverished part of both countries. Most of the men there worked in the coal mines. She said a gentleman had come and offered quite a lot of money to her father for her. She said her father took it to save the rest of the family from starvation.

Leo vaguely recalled his brother talking about the lack of economic opportunity, particularly in some parts of the country. Leo had barely registered the conversation, as he did any topic that seemed too weighty, because he had long been a man who didn’t want to bother himself with anything of importance. Isidora had been sold so a man could feed the rest of his children. Leo could not imagine what it must be like to live with nothing, or the sort of desperation the man must have felt that would allow him to sell one daughter to save his family.

So Isidora had come to England to work for nothing. That wasn’t enough for Lord Hill, she said—he’d wanted more than her services as a chambermaid, and when she’d rebuffed him, he threatened to send her back to the man who’d arranged it. Ann Marble had tried to intercede and he’d fired her, too, then took his family to the country.