her wrap and stepped into the tub. The hot water nearly scalded her skin, but she sank in as low as she could get in order to cover as much of her body as possible. Fannie handed her the bar of soap and a washcloth.
As soon as she washed her face and body, Fannie took the soap and washed her back. Lucinda found it impossible to relax. She hated for anyone to see her naked.
Then Fannie started laving her hair. Lucinda’s troubles vanished as Fannie’s fingers massaged her scalp. “Ain’t nothing quite so comforting as a good head scrubbing.”
Lucinda had to agree. Her modesty flew out the window as she sat in the tub, enjoying the serenity of the moment—until tepid water gushed over her head. Her reverie rudely interrupted, her mind seized upon her dilemma again—how to get out of this place. A most unladylike growl came from her stomach.
“ Sadie’s got food fer you down in the kitchen.” Fannie produced a towel. Lucinda hastily covered herself as she climbed out of the tub. “If’n you need help doing up your dress, I can help with that, too.”
“ No, thanks.” Lucinda waited for Fannie to leave, but she didn’t. “I’ll join you in fifteen minutes,” she said, hoping Fannie would get the hint. She didn’t.
“ Since you’re not at ease here, I’ll be taking you down this time.”
Lucinda swore under her breath. What would Miss Hattie do in this situation? How did one maintain one’s aplomb in such an establishment? Too tired and demoralized to argue, she took a clean pair of drawers and a camisole out of her trunk and put them on as fast as she could manage. She was somewhat mollified that Fannie had the decency to look elsewhere.
Fannie helped her lace up her corset and after Lucinda tied her petticoats, Fannie motioned to a chair. “Sit here. I’ll brush out your hair.”
Lucinda did as Fannie bade. When Fannie started brushing, Lucinda swore the woman had a magic touch with hair. She didn’t pull, even though its waist-length had a horrible tendency to curl and tangle.
“ I used to have hair this color, too. ‘Course, on me it was called dishwater blonde. On you, we’d call it dark honey. It suits you fine. Don’t never change it.”
Lucinda wondered why on earth Fannie thought she’d want to change her hair color. Then she realized Fannie spoke of more than the disadvantages of hair dye. A respectable lady would never color her hair. “Thank you. I don’t intend to.”
Fannie waited, arms crossed and tapping her toe, while Lucinda finished dressing and tying her wet hair into a bun.
“ Let’s go. Your dinner’ll be stone cold.”
Lucinda balked, not wanting to face the ladies again. Still, her rumbling stomach reminded her that it had been a long time since she’d attempted to eat stale bread and watery stew at the stage stop the evening before.
“ We have roast beef, taters ‘n gravy, and fresh beans from the garden,” Fanny said, tempting Lucinda.
That’s all it took. Brothel or not, she needed to eat.
In the kitchen, Sadie placed a plate heaping with food before Lucinda. The aroma of the roast beef made her mouth water, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to bow her head and give thanks, rather than to dive in and devour. Even after she finished with her abbreviated prayer, her stomach struggled with Miss Hattie’s etiquette lessons to take slow, ladylike bites. As a schoolteacher, she must be respectable at all times, she vowed, even half-starved in a brothel.
Finally satisfied, her stomach was full for the first time since she’d left home. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said, dabbing daintily at her lips with a stained napkin. “That was a wonderful meal.”
“ It’s easy to cook when you have all the best. The boss makes sure we do, not like some other whor—uh, houses I been in.” Sadie bent her plump body over the table to pick up Lucinda’s plate. “Would you like a nice piece of berry pie?”
Lucinda stifled an impolite yawn.
As soon as she washed her face and body, Fannie took the soap and washed her back. Lucinda found it impossible to relax. She hated for anyone to see her naked.
Then Fannie started laving her hair. Lucinda’s troubles vanished as Fannie’s fingers massaged her scalp. “Ain’t nothing quite so comforting as a good head scrubbing.”
Lucinda had to agree. Her modesty flew out the window as she sat in the tub, enjoying the serenity of the moment—until tepid water gushed over her head. Her reverie rudely interrupted, her mind seized upon her dilemma again—how to get out of this place. A most unladylike growl came from her stomach.
“ Sadie’s got food fer you down in the kitchen.” Fannie produced a towel. Lucinda hastily covered herself as she climbed out of the tub. “If’n you need help doing up your dress, I can help with that, too.”
“ No, thanks.” Lucinda waited for Fannie to leave, but she didn’t. “I’ll join you in fifteen minutes,” she said, hoping Fannie would get the hint. She didn’t.
“ Since you’re not at ease here, I’ll be taking you down this time.”
Lucinda swore under her breath. What would Miss Hattie do in this situation? How did one maintain one’s aplomb in such an establishment? Too tired and demoralized to argue, she took a clean pair of drawers and a camisole out of her trunk and put them on as fast as she could manage. She was somewhat mollified that Fannie had the decency to look elsewhere.
Fannie helped her lace up her corset and after Lucinda tied her petticoats, Fannie motioned to a chair. “Sit here. I’ll brush out your hair.”
Lucinda did as Fannie bade. When Fannie started brushing, Lucinda swore the woman had a magic touch with hair. She didn’t pull, even though its waist-length had a horrible tendency to curl and tangle.
“ I used to have hair this color, too. ‘Course, on me it was called dishwater blonde. On you, we’d call it dark honey. It suits you fine. Don’t never change it.”
Lucinda wondered why on earth Fannie thought she’d want to change her hair color. Then she realized Fannie spoke of more than the disadvantages of hair dye. A respectable lady would never color her hair. “Thank you. I don’t intend to.”
Fannie waited, arms crossed and tapping her toe, while Lucinda finished dressing and tying her wet hair into a bun.
“ Let’s go. Your dinner’ll be stone cold.”
Lucinda balked, not wanting to face the ladies again. Still, her rumbling stomach reminded her that it had been a long time since she’d attempted to eat stale bread and watery stew at the stage stop the evening before.
“ We have roast beef, taters ‘n gravy, and fresh beans from the garden,” Fanny said, tempting Lucinda.
That’s all it took. Brothel or not, she needed to eat.
In the kitchen, Sadie placed a plate heaping with food before Lucinda. The aroma of the roast beef made her mouth water, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to bow her head and give thanks, rather than to dive in and devour. Even after she finished with her abbreviated prayer, her stomach struggled with Miss Hattie’s etiquette lessons to take slow, ladylike bites. As a schoolteacher, she must be respectable at all times, she vowed, even half-starved in a brothel.
Finally satisfied, her stomach was full for the first time since she’d left home. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said, dabbing daintily at her lips with a stained napkin. “That was a wonderful meal.”
“ It’s easy to cook when you have all the best. The boss makes sure we do, not like some other whor—uh, houses I been in.” Sadie bent her plump body over the table to pick up Lucinda’s plate. “Would you like a nice piece of berry pie?”
Lucinda stifled an impolite yawn.
Similar Books
Dead Giveaway
Leann Sweeney
Intimate Danger (Empire Blue)
D.C. Stone
Strife: Part Two (The Strife Series Book 2)
Sky Corgan
The Detachment
Barry Eisler
The Magpies Nest
Isabel Paterson
Dragons vs. Drones
Wesley King
Lion Heart
A. C. Gaughen
Stormed Fortress
Janny Wurts
Hairy London
Stephen Palmer
