Leah Allen (leahallen) wrote in shadowlands_ic, @ 2017-06-02 13:47:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | gabriel allen, leah allen |
Who: Leah Allen, Miss Lydia, later Gabriel Allen
What: Leah puts the plan in action.
Where: Miss Lydia's Music Academy
When: 2 June 1888
Ratings/warnings: PG-13
Every now and then, the employees of Miss Lydia’s Academy of Music tended to speculate wildly about their manager, the eponymous Miss Lydia, as well as her employer, Gabriel. It was only natural to gossip -- while the workers there were known for keeping their tongues when out and about, and would never dare risk being familiar with a client in public, within the walls of Miss Lydia’s, gossip was a fine form of currency, and an excellent way to pass downtime.
Mr. Gabriel, naturally, provided a great deal of juiciness -- it was rumored he was quite the gentleman, or at least pretended to be, and had enough money to keep up appearances. His own varied strings of lovers were often speculated about, especially as he had never sampled the wares, as it were, so while his own skills were rumored to be quite prodigious, no-one could speak first-hand.
Miss Lydia made the gossip all the richer, as she was such a cipher, and was more of a constant presence at the Academy -- had she been a gentlewoman in a previous life? A former courtesan herself? A spinster? A girl from a nice family fallen on hard times? An aging actress? The speculation was rampant, and the lady herself never so much as dropped a single hint. Her bearing was refined, her manners impeccable, her temper even, and while Miss Lydia’s had its fair share of depravity occurring behind its velvet curtains, she was cool, unflappable, and steady as a steamship gliding into the harbor. Miss Lydia’s was her domain, and she carried herself with a confidence flowing about her, leaving all who encountered her calmer in her wake.
When the doors to Miss Lydia’s opened during the lull of the late afternoon, Miss Lydia herself was at her usual post, at a credenza by the front door. She looked up, raising a well-manicured eyebrow behind her small spectacles. “How may I help you this afternoon, my dear?” She asked, placing her small lead pencil into the center of her ledger.
Leah and Gabriel had debated at length what kind of person ‘Vicky Smith’ should be.
The first thought of having her be a working class girl went out the window quickly enough, there was no way she could replicate the accent properly and keep it going all the time without a slip up. No, Vicky needed to be different from Leah, but not so different as to be impossible to keep up. They quickly settled on a girl once from an upper class family who’d fallen to the bottom due to family tragedy. Father had been an army officer who died in the war with the Zulu in Africa a decade ago, mother had tried to keep the family together but died of Cholera along with her younger brother. So she had a decent education for someone looking to become a wife or mother, but no practical skills for the work force and no dowry.
And nowhere to go but down.
Leah didn’t have to fake her nervousness, that was all real. She smoothed down the front of the threadbare but neatly kept dress and looked at Lydia with a tentative smile. “I’ve come to ask about joining your Academy, Miss. I’m told I’ve a lovely singing voice.” Not that the men would care about her voice, except perhaps to comment on her ‘lungs’.
The eyebrow rose a fraction as she gave the new arrival a quick look over. “Well, young lady,” Miss Lydia replied, gesturing to the chair opposite the credenza. “Take a seat, and we can discuss our process of admission. Would you care for some tea or coffee Miss...?” She asked crisply, giving the girl opposite her a shrewd look.
“Smith, Miss. Victoria Smith but everybody calls me ‘Vicky’.” Leah replied automatically. “And tea would be lovely, if it’s not too much trouble.” So far so good, she hadn’t been denounced as a fraud and kicked out. Now to get through the rest of the interview process.
Miss Lydia pulled a cord by her desk, and a tray soon arrived with a small plate of sandwiches and a cup of tea and saucer, carried by a young woman in a maid’s uniform who curtsied and scuttled out.
“Now, my dear -- we pride ourselves very much on our reputation as a finishing school. How did you hear of our Academy, exactly?” The words were kind enough, but spoken in a brisk, no-nonsense tone.
Leah had eagerly taken advantage of the tea service and was in mid sip when Lydia asked her question. She swallowed and put the cup down. It had been too much to hope for that the older woman wouldn’t probe how she’d found her way to the establishment. After all, it wasn’t a common brothel by any means judging from her father’s description. She had no way of knowing if he was correct, having never been anywhere near one of any kind before today, but he had no reason to lie to her.
“You were recommended by a friend of my last employer, Miss. I was working as a nanny, but things didn’t work out and I had to leave the position without a reference. When he heard about my situation, Mr. Gabriel told me I should come talk to you.”
“Ah,” Miss Lydia replied with a nod of her head, the eyebrow lowering as she took a sip of her own tea. “I see. Yes, of course. How fortuitous.”
She set the teacup down carefully, giving Vicky Smith an appraising look. “I’m assuming your Mr. Gabriel was able to tell you the extent of the opportunities that would be available to you as a member of the Academy, yes? Would you be prepared for the sort of work you would be asked to do?”
Leah managed to blush at the Madam’s words, though she doubted the other woman would believe the real reasons behind it, and she nodded before letting her eyes drift to the teacup on the table. “He did, Miss.” She put a note of trepidation in her voice. “I was a little...perturbed at first, and it took me some time to come around to the idea, honestly.” Her chin went back up and she stared evenly at the other woman. “But I have and I am.”
“I see,” Miss Lydia replied, not unkindly. “We might see whether it takes -- not everyone’s cut out for life as a musician,” she said, with what might possibly be considered to be a slight hint of a joke. “We’ll give you a few days to get your bearings and adjust. Before we get you settled, I must ask…” she looked evenly at the young woman sitting across from her. “...Are you here of your own free will?”
It was an imperfect question, of course, and a young woman at the end of her rope only had so many choices available to her -- but it needed to be asked nonetheless.
“I am. Yes.” Very much so, though she couldn’t come out and say it. It wasn’t her first choice, true, but given the constraints she was operating under it was the best choice available.
Miss Lydia extended a hand for a short, firm handshake. “Very well,” she said, curtly, “welcome to the Academy. I’ll work you through your contract, and then I’ll take you on a tour. Do you know how to read, dear?” She asked, adjusting her spectacles before reaching into a drawer to pull out a file.
”Thank you.” Leah shook the hand firmly, the relief in her voice and on her face wasn’t entirely for show.
At the question she nodded in affirmation. “I can, Miss. Most words anyway. I had to quit school at fourteen, but I always got good marks.” While Leah was a college graduate, Vicky wouldn’t have been so fortunate. She looked on as Lydia took out a piece of paper and placed it on the table, the tea service put to one side.
“You’ll let me know if there’s any parts you need me to go over in greater detail,” Miss Lydia replied precisely. “Better to ask now than later.” The contract was written in a straightforward, matter-of-fact sort of way -- she’d be on probation for the first month, she’d receive a weekly salary, there was an opportunity for yearly raises and bonuses, free room and board offered, and a standard two weeks’ notice required after probation should she wish to leave.
“If you sign,” Miss Lydia continued, tapping the ‘confidentiality’ part of the agreement, “it’s quite important you know you’re agreeing to keep quiet about the clients, and, in turn, we provide an assurance of employee privacy -- your reputation is quite safe with us, Miss Smith. Believe me.”
It was difficult to pretend to struggle with any of it, the language was rather clear, but Leah made a point of asking a question here or there just to keep with the Vicky persona. Finally, after reading the whole thing (for the third time, she’d always been a fast reader) she put pen to paper and signed the contract. It wasn’t something she’d dreamed of doing just a few short weeks ago, and it was hard to believe she’d really gone and done it. But it was the best option at the moment.
“You won’t have trouble from me about that, Miss.” Leah assured her in all honesty. “I want a clean reputation as much as the next girl.” Which was why she was going through the whole ‘Vicky Smith’ routine to begin with.
The trick would be how to keep Leah Allen visible without giving Vicky away and vice versa.
“Good,” Miss Lydia replied with a dip of her perfectly coiffed silver hair. Filing the contract, she stood. “I can imagine this wasn’t your first choice of occupation, Miss Smith, but you’ll make a decent living here and won’t be judged for how you go about it, and that’s the god’s honest truth,” she said, her words precise and her tone even. “Let me show you upstairs, and we’ll fetch you something a little more fitting from the wardrobe.”
Two hours later Leah found herself staring at her reflection in a vanity mirror barely able to recognize the woman staring back as the last bit of cosmetics were applied to her face. Women of her rank didn't wear much in the way of makeup, it wasn't seemly, and ‘Vicky’ couldn't afford such things even if she'd wanted to.
And neither of them would’ve dressed in outfits designed to put the assets on display as much as the corset and dress she had on. Though truthfully there’d been a spot of difficulty finding a dress that fit properly anyway, which had prompted some ribald jokes from some of her fellow ‘musicians’ once they'd gotten her out of the rags she'd worn into the building. They’d cackled to Miss Lydia that they shouldn't dress her at all. With a body like hers she'd have no trouble attracting customers in just her birthday suit!
“There,” Georgianna said, nodding her head as she put the puff of powder down, before leaning over to adjust a curl of the new girl’s hair. She gave her a sharp look, before nodding her head again in approval. “You can borrow my makeup for your first week,” she said, “but after that, you really ought to buy your own.” Raising an eyebrow as she began packing up her things, she caught Leah’s eye in the mirror. “Nervous?” She asked, with a bit of a grin.
“Just a little,” Leah confessed. There were butterflies in her stomach and part of her wondered if she wasn’t making a huge mistake. Surely she could arrange a few gentlemen callers to come on a regular basis? But it was too late to back out now, not after all the effort she and her father had put into making Vicky a reality. “Is it that obvious?”
Georgianna seemed nice enough, as had the others she’d met so far. She’d entered a different world and she was glad Miss Lydia had assigned her a guide to help her adjust.
“You’ll do fine,” the other girl replied. “I mean… god, look at you.” She paused after she closed the bag. “It’s not… you know… your first ride on the carousel, is it?”
“Oh!” Leah shook her head quickly, feeling her cheeks heat up. “No. It isn’t. That’s what put me on the path here if you get my meaning. The stable boy and I...” she shrugged. “Let’s just say we were both very enthusiastic but marriage was never going to happen.”
Georgie tossed back her head and laughed, and gave ‘Vicky’ a hearty pat on the back. “Let me guess. He was hung like a horse?” She replied with a wink and a grin. “And enthusiasm goes a long way -- but if you ever want any pointers, well.” She gave ‘Vicky’ a once over. “I certainly wouldn’t mind,” she said, shrugging a little. “But men are easy. You seen one, you seen most of what there is to see, and how it tends to work.” She made an explicit gesture, giggling a little. “And if they want somethin’ different, they’ll be sure to tell you, believe me.”
“All right.” Leah nodded at the not entirely surprising information. While not vastly experienced, her actions with the servants over the last year had taught her the basics. Part of her still couldn't believe she was doing this, and another part was gleeful at going against what was expected from a young woman of her rank.
“How does it work, choosing them I mean?” She knew that while there was some discretion she wasn't in a position to reject a customer without a good reason. What she could expect was something she was entirely in the dark about. Food was food and she didn't plan to reject often, but it would be good to know the unwritten rules of the house.
“Well, if you’re free, you wait around in the lounge -- I wouldn’t get too many drinks in you while you’re waiting, by the way, it’s one thing to have your tongue a little looser, especially if you’re nervous, and sometimes the clients like to toast, but it’d be easy to over do it, and that doesn’t give a very good impression,” she said, shrugging. “If you give the girl a nod, she’ll make sure you get the sparkling cider instead.”
Georgie leaned against the small vanity. “The clients tend to wander a bit, see who all’s there, some of ‘em have specific tastes, some are regulars who are waiting for someone in particular, but if they’re interested, they’ll ask if you’re available, and what for. And if you’re interested back, you say yes, and that’s that. If you’re not, you can always say you’re waiting for another customer or something. Sometimes they’ll want to talk a little first, get to know you, but if they go on too long and you get bored with it, you can always cut to the chase and either tell ‘em you’d love to keep talking in a place a little more private, or beg off and say you have an appointment with someone else.”
She laughed a little. “If you ever need to play a ‘get me out of here’ card, you can always say you need to go freshen up. Works a charm for me.” She nodded over to the silken cord with a tassel in the corner. “And you pull on that when you’re done, so someone can come by and freshen the room.” Pausing a little, Georgie wrinkled her nose. “And if things ever get out of hand -- you never know,” she added, “only happened to me once, really, but you pull it twice. They’ll get hustled out real fast, and they won’t be let back in.”
“Good to know.” Leah nodded and took one last look in the mirror, and then nodded to herself again. She supposed she was as ready as she was going to be, might as well go out to the lounge and see about getting started. Nothing would happen if she hid in here like a frightened child, and then nobody would get what they wanted.
She stood to leave the room but paused just a moment. “Were you nervous your first time doing-” she waved a hand to indicate the room and the job in general-”this?” Leah had no idea how long Georgie had been in the profession but the other woman didn't look any older than herself.
“Oh, honey,” Georgie replied, before taking the new girl’s hand in hers. “I was terrified. Cried buckets after my first one, too, poor guy.” She leaned down to kiss Leah’s cheek, then laughed a little as she used her thumb to rub away the slight smudge of lipstick it left behind. “You’ll do fine. Promise.”
Gabriel usually made a point of stopping by Miss Lydia’s when he had no other evening plans, but tonight, he had to admit, he was a little nervous.
He’d raised his daughter with a free hand (some would say a little too free), and had been open with her about who she was, about what they needed to do to survive, and he’d always admired his daughter’s ambition and strength of character. But she was so very young, and had been raised with certain expectations -- he’d wanted to give her the best life he could -- and he wondered whether this move would prove to be too much of a shock, and whether he’d put her in an impossible position to begin with. He knew his circumstances were rather unique, but he was in essence pimping out his own daughter -- something, he suspected, only his own kind would ever truly be able to understand fully without passing judgement.
In addition, while he was proud of his business, this made him truly put that to the test -- was this place good enough for his own child to work there? He wasn’t entirely sure.
So when he opened the door to Lydia’s and made his way up to the first floor later on that evening (later than expected), his heart was beating a little faster in his chest as he looked around the room to see if he could catch a glimpse of Leah.
Leah still wasn’t entirely sure this had been the best idea she’d ever had. Sure being paid to feed was a wonderful idea in theory, but the practical application left something to be desired so far. Still, of the four clients she’d had all seemed happy and she’d taken the edge off her hunger after not feeding since her night with Eddie nearly a week ago. It could be worse.
The other ‘musicians’ seemed nice enough, though there was a fair bit of what seemed to be good-natured teasing at her expense being new. They were so different from the women she was used to though! She wasn’t sure what (aside from the obvious) she had in common with any of them, though there was only one way to find out. Maybe there’d be some other succubi among the staff that she’d find out about later, that might help.
She finished fixing her makeup like Georgie had instructed and adjusted her dress before stepping back out to the lounge. Hopefully her next client would be a bit more interesting than the overweight banker she’d finished with not long before.
Gabriel tended to cause a bit of a ripple when he entered the lounge at Miss Lydia’s -- it always took him a while to work the room, and even though he was definitely distracted, there were still hands to shake and people who needed flattering. Every time a blonde head came into his field of vision, he looked around to see if it was Leah, and the third time he did so, he paused for a moment, barely recognizing her in her outfit and makeup.
“Pardon me,” Gabriel murmured, kissing whoever he was talking to on the cheek before making his way over to his daughter, looking carefully at her expression.
If she was angry, or frightened, she didn’t show it -- but despite her appearance, she seemed a little uncomfortable and uncertain. Better than he expected, at least. He smiled quickly as he finally caught her eye, tipping his head and raising an eyebrow, the question how are you doing? written all over his face as he drew closer to her.
Leah had noticed him right away, and observed him as he worked the room. It didn’t seem any different to her than when he worked a ball or a society dinner, he still had the same effortless charm and grace with whomever he met. The lowest whore treated no worse than a duchess, or perhaps, she mused, the duchess treated no better than the lowest whore.
And that’s what she was at the moment wasn’t she? A whore? It was hard to take the society mindset and put it to one side. She knew intellectually it shouldn’t matter to her, she’d live hundreds of years longer than almost everyone in the room and nearly everyone on the entire island. But she still was a creature of her culture like it or not.
It made her not a little angry that she was forced into this situation by that culture. Part of her wondered if it would be worth the ruining of her reputation just to be done with it and be open about her needs. Was this really the best course of action?
Still between clients when he caught her eye, she excused herself from a conversation with Nora, a slender brunette maybe five or so years older than herself and made her way over to him. “Mr. Gabriel,” she bobbed her head like she’d seen the servants do, paying her respects to her new employer. He might be her father, but to ‘Vicky’ he was the man who’d given her a lifeline, such as it was. “Thank you so much for your recommendation, sir.” She gave a little shrug at his unspoken question. All right. Not thrilled, but not ready to throw herself in his arms and demand to be taken home either.
Gabriel winced a fraction at the necessary formality, and a small wrinkle of concern appeared between his eyes at her shrug, trying hard not to read too much into it and failing.
He worried he’d miscalculated -- that he’d been too short-sighted after Leah’s incident with the stableboy -- that he’d thrown her in the deep end of a world she was unfamiliar with, and would be hurt by despite his best intentions, and he cleared his throat a little, nodding his head in a friendly sort of way despite the ache in his chest. “Settling in alright, then?” He asked. “I suppose Miss Lydia was thorough in your orientation -- if you’d have any further questions that've come up, we can always go over them in my office, if you’d like.”
He knew they’d have a chance to talk further once she came home again -- was back to being Leah -- but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to extend the offer right now in case it was necessary.
She recognized the lifeline for what it was and shook her head. Oh no, he wouldn’t get back into her good books that easily! This was her idea, true, but only because her hand had been forced and she’d agreed that the way they had been doing things wasn’t sustainable. “Miss Lydia was very kind, sir, truly. She went over everything with me, and asked Georgie to help me get ready. Says I’m a natural, she does.” Despite her misgivings she couldn’t help but preen a bit. Leah’d always tried to give her all in whatever it was she was doing, that hadn’t changed just because of the situation she was in.
“I get a wage, a roof over my head, plenty to eat, and such pretty clothes to wear.” She thrust out her chest and gave a wicked little smile only he could see, twisting the knife just a tad. “That’s more than a girl like me could hope for sir, thank you.”
He knew exactly what she was doing, and why, but that didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t feel every twist as she dug in deeper. Her last made his eyebrow raise, the ache in his chest blooming, torn between an odd mixture of amusement, frustration, and a healthy dose of self-loathing. She was his daughter, through and through -- and while he was annoyed by her cheek, he could admire a cutting turn of phrase like the best of them, and he figured he’d earned a metaphorical slap in the face or two.
“Well,” he replied, a frown flitting across his face. “Glad to hear it. I’ll leave you to it, then?” He replied, the eyebrow raising further, as if to say, care to get in any parting shots, or are you quite finished for the time being?.
“Yes, sir.” She bobbed her head again, lowering her eyes just a bit as she did. No, I’m done. Despite her annoyance she didn’t like hurting him, and the last bit clearly had. Still, she wouldn’t apologize. With nothing left she could say here, and no justifiable reason to linger in his presence (and draw unwanted attention) she pulled away.
She’d made it only a few steps before a set of arms wrapped around her waist. Leah squawked as she was pulled down onto a male lap to the cheers of several young men in officer’s uniforms who suddenly seemed to be on either side. “C’mere darlin’” A masculine voice cooed in her ear. “The lads an I are off to South Africa in the morrow. Show us a good time before we go eh?” It wasn’t the best proposition Leah’d heard all night, but they were all young, fit, and not bad looking. Feeling the hunger stirring inside her again at the idea, she was torn between mortification at having this happen right in front of her father and satisfaction with him being there to watch.
He’d see in no uncertain terms what his putting his foot down had led to, and that while she was less than thrilled by it she’d play her part without hesitation. For now anyway.
Ignoring Gabriel’s presence in the room Leah turned to face the speaker and kissed him thoroughly to rowdy cheers from his mates. “I think you lot may be too much for me all by my lonesome,” she cooed to him with a smile that to someone familiar with her would seem just a bit off. “But maybe between some friends and I we can make your last night at home a memorable one, ay?”
The look Gabriel gave her was a resigned one, but he turned to work the rest of the room, a quick smile replacing his look of slight worry as he made the circuit once more before taking an earlier than usual leave. Miss Lydia, who didn’t miss a beat, followed him out into the hallway as he took his leave, but let him be after a quick and entirely silent exchange of glances that passed between them.
He wasn’t in a good enough mood for the Osiris Club, not by half, so he went straight home instead and pretended to read, completely unable to concentrate for more than half a minute, before giving up and retiring early.
Leah never saw him leave, busy entertaining the soldier and his friends in the lounge until they all moved to a private room along with Nora and Georgie. Soon after that her father was the farthest thing from her mind for quite some time.