Three women lounged in what might have been called a parlor. The late-morning heat had them half dozing in their petticoats and their feathered wraps. The room itself was dim and almost airless. Vivid red drapes hung limp at the windows. Gold leaf glowed dull and dusty on the frames of the mirrors.
As Sarah entered, a heavy-eyed redhead popped up from her sprawled position on a settee. She plopped back again with a howling laugh. “Well, look here, girls, we got ourselves some company. Get out the teacups.”
The others looked over. One of them hitched her wrap up around her shoulders. Her hands folded, Sarah stood in the doorway and took it all in.
So this was a bordello. She couldn’t say she saw anything remotely exciting. It looked more like a badly furnished parlor in need of a good dusting. There was a heavy floral scent of mixed perfumes that merged, none too appealingly, with plain sweat. Carefully, finger by finger, Sarah drew off her driving gloves.
“I’d like to speak with Carlotta, please. Will someone tell her I’m here?”
No one moved. The women merely exchanged looks. The redhead went back to examining her nails. After a long breath, Sarah tried another tactic. “I’m here to speak with her about Alice.” That caught their attention. Every one of the women looked over at her. “She’ll be staying with me until she’s well.”
Now the redhead rose. Her flowered wrap slid down her shoulders with the movement. “You took Alice in?”
“Yes. She needs care, Miss-”
“I’m Nancy.” She took a quick look behind her.
“How come somebody like you’s going to see to Alice?” “Because she needs it. I’d be grateful to you if you would tell Carlotta I’d like to speak with her.” “I reckon I could do that.” The redhead pulled her wrap up. “You tell Alice we was asking about her.” “I’ll be glad to.”
While Nancy disappeared up the stairs, Sarah tried to ignore the other women’s stares. She had changed to one of her best day dresses. Sarah thought the dove gray very distinguished, particularly with its black trim. Her matching hat had been purchased just before her trip west and was the latest Paris fashion. Apparently it wasn’t proper attire for a bordello, she thought as she watched Carlotta descend the stairs.
The owner of the Silver Star was resplendent in her trademark red. The silk slithered down her tall, curvaceous body, clinging, shifting, swaying. Her high white breasts rose like offerings from the scalloped bodice, which was threaded with silver threads. In her hand she carried a matching fan. As she flicked it in front of her face, the heavy scent of roses filled the room.
Despite her feelings, Sarah couldn’t deny that the woman was stunning. In another place, another time, she could have been a queen.
“My, my, this is a rare honor, Miss Conway.”
She’d been drinking. Sarah caught the scent of whiskey under the perfume. “This is hardly a social call.”
“Now you disappoint me.” Her painted mouth curved. “I can always use a new girl around here. Isn’t that right…ladies?”
The other women shifted uncomfortably and remained tactfully silent.
“I thought maybe you’d come in looking for work.” Still waving the fan, she strolled around Sarah, sizing her up. “Little scrawny,” she said. “But some men like that. Could use some fixing up, right, girls? Little more here.” She patted Sarah’s unrouged cheek.
“Little less there.” She flicked a hand at the neckline of Sarah dress. “You might make a tolerable living.” “I don’t believe I’d care to…work for you, Carlotta” “That so?” Her eyes, already hardened by the whiskey, iced over. “Too much of a lady to take pay for it, but not too much of a lady to give it away.” Sarah curled her fingers into a fist, then forced them to relax again. She would not resort to violence, or be driven to it. “No. I wouldn’t care to work for anyone who beats their employees. Alice is with me now, Carlotta, and she’ll stay with me. If you ever put your hands on her again, I’ll see to it that you’re thrown in jail.”
“Oh, will you?” An angry flush darkened cheeks already bright with rouge. “I’ll put my hands on who I please.” She stabbed the fan into Sarah’s chest. “No prim-faced bitch from back east is going to come into my place and tell me different.”
With surprising ease, Sarah reached out and snapped the fan in two. “I just have.” She had only an instant to brace herself for the slap. It knocked her backward. To balance herself she grabbed a table and sent a statuette crashing to the floor.
“Your kind makes me sick.” Carlotta’s voice was high and brittle as she leaned toward Sarah. Whiskey and anger had taken hold of her and twisted her striking face. “Looking as though they wouldn’t let a man touch them. But you’ll spread your legs as easy as any.
You think because you went to school and lived in a big house that makes you special? You’re nothing out here, nothing.” She scooped up a fat plaster cherub and sent it crashing into the wall.
“The fact that I went to school and lived in a house isn’t all that separates us.” Sarah’s voice was a sharp contrast to Carlotta’s in its calmness. “You don’t make me sick, Carlotta. You only make me sorry.”
“I don’t need pity from you. I made this place. I got something, and nobody handed it to me. Nobody ever gave me money for fine dresses and fancy hats. I earned it.” Breasts heaving, she stepped closer. “You think you got Jake dangling on a string, honey, you’re wrong. Soon as he’s had his fill of you, he’ll be back. What he’s doing to you on these hot, sweaty nights, he’ll be doing to me.”
“No.” Amazingly, Sarah’s voice was still calm.
“Even if he comes back and puts your price in your hands, you’ll never have what I have with him. You know it,” Sarah said quietly. “And that’s why you hate me.” With her eyes on Carlotta, she began to pull on her gloves again. Her hands would tremble any moment. She knew it, and she wanted to be on her way first. “But the issue here is Alice, not Jake. She is no longer in your employ.”
“I’ll tell that slut when she’s through here.”
It happened so quickly, Sarah was hardly aware of it. She had managed to hold her temper during Carlotta’s insulting tirade against her own person. But to hear Alice called by that vile name while the girl was lying helpless and hurt was too much. Her ungloved hand shot out and connected hard with the side of Carlotta’s face.
The three women, and the one who had come creeping down the stairs to look in on the commotion, let out gasps of surprise in unison. Sarah barely had time to feel the satisfaction of her action when Carlotta had her by the hair. They tumbled to the floor in a flurry of skirts.
Sarah shrieked as Carlotta tried to pull her hair out by the roots. She had handfuls of it, tugging and ripping while she cursed wildly. Fighting the pain, Sarah swung out and connected with soft flesh. She heard Carlotta grunt, and they rolled across the rug. Crockery smashed as they collided with a table, each trying to land a blow or defend against one. Sarah took a fist in the stomach with a gasp, but managed to evade a lethal swipe of Carlotta’s red-tipped nails.
There was hate in Carlotta’s eyes, a wild, almost mad hate. Sarah grabbed her wrist and twisted, knowing that if the other woman got her hands on her throat she’d squeeze until all her breath was gone.
She had no intention of being strangled, or pumeled. Her own rage had her rolling on top of her opponent and grabbing a handful of dyed hair. When she felt teeth sink into her arm, she cried out and yanked with all her strength, jerking Carlotta’s head back and bringing out a howl of rage and pain. Other screams rose up, but Sarah was lost in the battle. She yanked and clawed and tore as viciously as Carlotta. They were equals now, with no barriers of class or background. A lamp shattered in a shower of glass as the two writhing bodies careened into another table.