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"It was nice to meet you all," Claire said, as she rose from the table and headed back up to Jamie's room.
Dorcas, Peggy and Mollie watched her leave in some confusion. From Madame Jeanne's apparent attitude when she had entered and found Claire eating with them, it was evident that Claire was not the new whore they had presumed her to be.
At Madame Jeanne's imperative finger-snap Mollie also rose and headed off to attend to the early customer.
Peggy's uplifted eye-brow as she looked at Dorcas seemed to say, 'Are you going to ask, or should I?'
The slight pursing of her lips and Dorcas' quick shrug was her only response.
Taking the bit between her teeth, Peggy turned to Madame Jeanne. "I'm sorry, Madame. We thought she was the new girl. Who is she?"
Madame's expression suddenly became deadpan, as she tried to conceal any trace of her reaction to yesterday's revelation. "That is Madame Malcolm, Monsieur Malcolm's wife," she said as she moved away from the table.
Well that explained Madame Jeanne's reaction. It had been apparent to the girls of the establishment for quite some time, that Madame Jeanne's feelings for Mr Malcolm were more than just those of a landlady. The small attentions she had been seen to give to him had not gone unnoticed by anyone, but apparently Mr Malcolm had never taken up the unvoiced offer which underpinned her interactions with him. He was always courteous and friendly, but no more.
Indeed Mr Malcolm was the focus of the unreciprocated desires of most of the girls. Tall, handsome, wide of shoulder, slim of hip...he certainly was far above the men who normally came to the house. But no matter how kind and gentlemanly he was when he spoke to any of them, he had never shown any desire for more. And it was a well known fact that, in the year or so since he had taken a room there, he had never partaken of the services of any of the girls, and more than one of them had been known to quietly make the suggestion. Gossip ran rampant within the house among the whores and the other staff; the maids had revealed that as far as anyone of them could say, there had never been any indication that Mr Malcolm had ever shared his room with anyone... including Madame Jeanne.
Peggy leaned across the table to Dorcas. So as to ensure Madame did not hear, she all but whispered, "His wife? Why do you think she's..."
She suddenly felt Dorcas kick her shin, as she nodded towards the door, and shushed her. Mr Malcolm, together with Fergus, was at the entry to the parlour. They were obviously in discussion over some matter.
"...we're going to have to keep a sharper, than usual, watch out for Sir Percival and his men. I'll meet you at the print shop around noon. I've got to go up and check on...Claire." The small break in his voice before he said her name, the soft smile that shaped his mouth as he uttered it, the tender emotion that could be heard in his voice. To Dorcas and Peggy, as they tried inconspicuously to listen in, these were telling indications.
"Mi'lady is here, Mi'lord?" Fergus queried.
"Aye, I know...it's not the sort of place I should have brought her. But..." Jamie's words faltered as his mind retreated into his memories of the previous night. His eyes glazed over as he found himself flooded with thoughts of the hours he had just spent making love to his wife.
"Aye, Mi'lord." Fergus grinned. No further words seemed to be needed for the younger man. "I'll check with Madame Jeanne about the order, and meet with you later."
With a smile lifting one side of his mouth, Mr Malcolm nodded and clapped the young man on his shoulder, before turning and heading quickly for the stairs at the rear of the parlour. He nodded and said a polite "Morning, ladies," as he passed them, and moved towards the stairs.
Dorcas pulled her friend closer. "I saw him leaving earlier this morning, and I thought there was something different about him."
Peggy was intrigued. "What did you see?"
"Och, well, now that I think on it, his step seemed lighter, and he didna seem to be carryin' himself so...well, it was like a weight had been lifted from him. But mostly, I think it's his eyes... Have you ever noticed that even when he smiled at you, the smile just never seemed to really light his eyes? Today, it's like...life has returned to them."
Peggy nodded. Together the girls turned to watch as Alexander Malcolm almost bounded up the stairs in his need to see his wife again. Whores they might be, but even a whore could recognize a man deeply in love.
Standing, unnoticed, in the corner, Madame Jeanne lowered her eyes from the man she had harboured hopes for. The girls were not the only ones who had noticed.
The End