AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I know a twat when I see one. I mean the bits sticking out of your seams.”
“Oh these.” Moll put her hand to the seam of her crotch. “I had buttons sewn in, so it is quick to open. Would you like me to show you how it works?” she said with a grin.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Lucinda said hastily. With Moll around things could swiftly get out of hand.
She began to undo the first button causing a mixture of laughter and shrieking in equal parts. “What? Have you never seen a twat before? I am told mine is much prettier than my head.”
Annie strolled over to Moll and peered at the buttons. “I’d like to have a look. At your buttons, not what is underneath them. Mmmm. What an ingenious idea. I have some regulars who would pay extra if I wore a pair of those. Can you give me the name of the tailor?”
“Regulars?” Rosalind whispered to Maud who was sitting next to her. “So she is…?” Maud nodded, flashing hushing signals with her eyes.
“A whore. Prostitute. Strumpet,” Annie said, strolling over to Rosalind and pulling herself up to her full height. “Name it what you will. Tis a more honest profession than many. I provide a service for which I am paid. Giving it away for free…I would have a problem with doing that. I happen to value what I have here.” She pointed at her breasts, held in check by the leather training jerkin.
“I did not mean offense,” Rosalind stammered, bunching the skirt of her dress in her hands. “It is only that you seem so happy, and yet you are constantly abused by men.” Distress was writ large in Rosalind’s face, though politeness coated her words.
Annie nudged Maud further along the bench and placed herself between the two younger women. She put one arm around Rosalind, cradling the side of her head against her own. “I am not abused. Men pay me to perform certain skills which I happen to be very good at. If any man did something I did not like, he would be thrown out on his ear.”
“So they do not take advantage?” Maud said, her light brown eyes wide and disbelieving.
“Some might try and get out of paying, but they do not get any service until coin changes hand.”
“I did not mean that.” By now Maud’s bottom lip was slightly quivering, and the scared rabbit look was back on her face. “I meant…if you did not agree or consent, and a man still takes what he wants—” Annie put her generous arms around both of them. Tears were streaking down Maud’s face, and Rosalind looked as if she would soon join in.
“If any man takes you against your will,” Annie said, “that is rape. It is a crime, and it should be punished.”
“Then why do I feel as if it is I who has committed the crime?” Rosalind said in a voice so quiet you had to strain to hear what she said.
“Me too,” Maud and Lizzie chorused.
“Because that is how men want you to feel,” Annie said. “It takes all guilt and responsibility from them if blame is cast upon the woman.” She pointed between her skirts. “This cunny of mine has been very well used, but it has never been abused. There is a world of difference between the two. You did nothing wrong, no matter what some might tell you. Here, wipe your tears.” Annie dabbed at Rosalind’s eyes with a cloth then passed it along to Maud. “Now come on, up off that bench. Lucinda will teach you how to fight like a man.”
“Actually,” Lucinda said, “I have given this some thought. I will not teach you to fight like a man.” A groan came from Moll, and a flare of anger leapt in Annie’s eyes. “Let me finish.” She paused until all eyes were upon her, all ears expectantly tuned. “I will not teach you to fight like a man. I will do better than that. I will teach you to fight…like a woman.”
The Sisters all cheered, buoyed up by collective defiance and pride. Now all she had to do was live up to their expectations. They were counting on her to do it, to teach them how to protect themselves. She would not forgive herself if she ever let them down.
Oh Lord have mercy! She was turning into Robert McCrae.
The next week after the lesson, they all gathered around to compare stories, trying to make sense of what made no sense at all. Some details of the attacks were puzzling. The gloves bothered Lucinda. For Lizzie it was the hair.
“The thing I don’t understand is why he took our hair?” As Lizzie wondered aloud her hand crept up to feel the bare patch cleverly hidden by her red plait.
“To keep it like a treasure,” Annie suggested.
“To remind him of his own cleverness,” Moll added. “I am not proud to admit this, but when I first started stealing purses, I would keep something from the purse to remind me of my success, not so much to congratulate myself but to embolden me to do more and more.”
The training room fell silent as they all contemplated that thought. “And it sounds to me he has been getting bolder, staying longer, choosing high born women as well as low born, spreading to different parts of the city, and growing crueler each time he strikes.”
“If we could find the collection of hair, we would find the rapist,” Annie mused.
“Do you think he might keep some with him?” Rosalind said. “I took some hair from my mother’s brush after she was gone and kept it with me for years.”
“It is possible,” Lucinda said.
“So now all we need is for Moll to pick the purse of every man in London, check it for locks of hair, and we find our man,” Annie said sounding both droll and wistful at the same time.
“If we can narrow it down to a few particular men that would help,” Lucinda said. “The answer may be in some of the other oddities, such as why does he never speak? And why does he wear a glove, only to take it off and put it back on?”
“I know, I know,” Maud grew loud and excited, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “He only took the gloves off once the blindfold was on. What if he wanted to feel our flesh,” she shuddered, “but there was something distinctive about his hand we would notice if we saw it?”
