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“I am a willing participant in this trade as well,” he replied, in case she thought he could not manage on his own. His pride was rearing its ugly head again, but he could not seem to help himself.
He thought perhaps she understood him, however, because the energy around her shifted from a deep green to dark yellow. If anything, she seemed to respect his dogged resolve as much as he did hers.
“So, on to business, then,” she said, and Galen blew out a breath. This sort of bargaining he could handle. “You owe me for room and board.”
Galen nodded. He would not have it any other way.
“Very well, then. Friday evening you will dress with the others and watch how the evening is run.”
He wouldn’t confess that he’d already had a taste. “And then?”
“On Saturday, you can partake.” She folded her arms across her bosoms. “I can guarantee that our patrons will be more respectful than what you’ve experienced.”
He couldn’t argue that, so he didn’t. After all, the sole reason he was sitting before her now was because he’d been beaten in an alleyway after a customer partook of his services. What she was proposing sounded perfectly reasonable. “And until then?”
She shrugged. “There’s plenty to do around here to keep the establishment, both establishments, running. And afterward, your debt will be paid, and you are free to go.”
He wasn’t opposed to hard labor. In fact, he’d tried to find work in his travels. The one man who’d finally agreed to hire him to move boxes to the back room of his bakery had wanted extracurricular services in exchange for his delectably warm bread, but Galen didn’t regret the experience. It helped him understand that he might have something useful to offer others. Besides, the man had been pleasing to the eye—which had led Galen to the realization that this was why his skin had felt flushed whenever he’d seen his older cousin in his underclothes. He’d thought maybe his aunt had guessed about his inclinations, and he’d feared she would not protect him if the authorities came knocking at their door. It had given him an added incentive to flee, and despite all his travails, he was glad to have gotten to know himself a bit better—his desires, and limits, and dreams, however small.
“We are in agreement, then?” Madam Langley asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Yes.”
“Good.” A genuine smile broke across her face.
The truth was, Galen wanted to stay. It would help him heal more before he had to subject his body to the elements again. But he knew it was also an excuse. It was cozy here, pleasant, and offered a warm, dry place to sleep. He could do without the cold for a few more days. Soon enough, it would be the hard ground again.
“One more thing,” Madam Langley said once Miss Celestine filled her tray with empty plates and returned to the kitchens. “You are a guest, but you still need to mind the rules.”
His eyebrows rose. Was she about to lecture him about stealing or something similar? If so, he was insulted, and was about to tell her, but she raised her hand to ward him off, obviously guessing where his thoughts had traveled. “The rules about living in such close quarters with the others. I already know you will keep our confidence about the happenings at the Moon Flower.”
“Yes.” He would never bring trouble on anyone. And especially not that kind of trouble. He shivered, thinking about the night one of the whores had been arrested and beaten on the street to teach the rest of them a lesson. The constable’s baton making contact with the man’s slight form on the pavement still made him quiver.
He thrust that thought away and waited as she sipped the last of her tea.
“As you know, some men enjoy giving, others receiving. Some prefer more robust activities or have more refined appetites. All that is agreed upon when a gentleman chooses to spend time with one of you. That said, if something happens in the room that was not agreed upon or makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, you must promise to tell me at once.” She winced, and he wondered what she might be recalling. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, Madam Langley.” He liked that she felt so strongly about such things. He thought of the man in the alley and other customers who did not care for his well-being nor gave him any warning when they wanted something different. But perhaps he should make some rules of his own, even if they fell on deaf ears. It was a business, after all, just like Moon Flower, even if it was only him.
“We are like a family here, so we do not allow our desires or feelings to steer us in a direction that may complicate things.” She looked him in the eye. “We save those passions for our customers. Do you understand?”
