This tale was inspired by a competition to write on how a lady had met the Royal personality and their banter to protect the oldest trade. This is a fictional tale and no account maintain any reference to any real or assumed events. This was also based on an article read as below: http://www2.warwick.ac.uk/fac/cross_fac/iatl/ejournal/issues/volume1issue1/joyce/
It was also inspired by the character, Fantine; the mother of Cossete.
The name Ellen Reese was taken from the lady who argued her case in court who accused her as a Prostitute.
"A hussy to me would always be a pussy for the taking." The man spoke up as he threw the few guineas onto the floor. "Do that warrant your services,...hussy?"
Ellen Reese was appalled by the man's accusation and his flouting of the wealth to tempt on her flesh. She stepped up to him and gave him a slap on the face. The man stood there red faced after the strike.
"I am no temptress, Sir." Ellen exclaimed herself to the man. "My cleavage was not bared for you but for this infernal sun who had dampened my bodice."
Ellen Reese was not one to minced on words as she was a writer of sort for the publications, and somewhat an activist against abuse on women. She frowned on men like this one who flouts their coins for the indulgent of their southern dipper to be immersed into the same orifice which their mother had borne them to his world.
"Ellen...." Margery, her close confidante friend who accompanied her to his seedy place tried to cautioned on her friend to hold her state in the manner of things.
"My dear Sir., I may not be married as yet, but never have I felt that your ....manhood as you may termed it would ever fit into mine. Now take your filthy coins and be on your way. Perhaps you could find a sheep on the farm to bray for you." It was then Lady Margery had heard enough as her composure turned from red to that of white before collapsing onto the ground in a unladylike state.
"Oh dear!" Ellen bend down to picked up her elderly friend but she was not without help as the ladies plying their trade there helped her to it. They helped carried the buxom elderly lady to the nearest abode and laid her down to rest there. Ellen thanked the lady who offered the bedding.
"Narry a worry, my lady." The one who spoke was dressed in a manner garish to some; appealing to others, but suited well in this hot summer weather. Her bodice unbuttoned with much cleavage to be seen, and the single cloth of the skirt was with slits from the hems, for reasons best not be disclosed.
"My name is Ellen Reese, and I am a writer." Ellen introduced herself, as she watched the room she was in. There was not much to be seen unless you considered panty hoses and wet bodice hanging over your head are as decorative as the china cups in the kitchen. There was the bedding, a small tub which probably had uses for many tasks and two wobbly chairs.
"Mine's Darcy; everyone calls me Darling." The lady introduced herself. "The den ain't much but it served its purpose. All they want is all on me."
Ellen was taken aback by the lady of so called social vices brash indication to her lower body.
"They pay us and we give them what they paid for." Darcy commented on. "Its our life, but heck, its better than picking up match sticks or selling the flowers. There they may well bugger you off if you bend too often."
Ellen ' face was red faced with the remarks but she did expected that as she was here to listen to the tales from these ladies. A social ill of society they were branded by the folks who were more prudish but Ellen felt that each side had their tales. As her other friend slept on the bedding, Ellen gently coax the Darcy to tell more of her life. Like her trade, she asked for was some coins to justify her day's taking. Once that had transacted, the words of another person's life was revealed.
Darcy's tales was no different from the others; a world unfair to laden them with the need to survive. She was born in the city and had never plowed a land or hold a well bucket, but she had run down the street with other vagrants looking to collect a coin or two. She did the running initially and then added in the stealing as she grew. If she was caught, it would be hell for her as the hounds are no better than the ones she pily her trade for today. She was ravished at a age when she could not recalled, but it was brutal then. She came home with her body bruised to be turned out on the street to ply another trade.
Does she regret it, as Ellen had asked but the answer was no. Darcy had seen others who had suffered more than her for not coming into her trade; either by starvation or by beatings. She laments that its the curse of the sex that they suffered for being born at the wrong side of the city.
"There yonder, they opened it to lay babies, but here we opened it to feed ourselves." Darcy commented. " A hump, a bump and they are all spent. We can do twenty of them with or without our eyes opened. All we asked are the coins and mind the bum as that costs more."
"Like us women, they too listened well. Its just that ours bears more of the listening and speak a lot less other than the fake moans." Darcy laughed as she pretends to writhe on the bed.
"Darcy, I would have you see that being a woman does not mean that we are to be submissive to man." Ellen assured her new found associate. It was then her other friend woke up and find herself on the bedding of another. She jumped up and grabbed at her body to feel if any was misplaced.
"Where am I?" Lady Margery looked at the bed. In her mind then were vivid images that defies any writing skills to describe.
"Ellen, we must leave." Lady Margery who had earlier volunteered to escot Ellen here now highly regrets her action. She pulled the writer out before she finds herself dragged onto another bed. Just before leaving, Ellen looked back to Darcy.
"I would do as I promised." Ellen can see the amused smile on the other who probably thinks she was loony.
It was a twist of fate that the following week while having afternoon tea, Ellen was to be entertained by a upcoming actress, who boasts of her new films and also her latest acquisitions in the ranks of man. She was quipping that man cannot be trusted unless they are of 'noble' ranking.
Ellen sometimes asked herself what was so striking of this lady that man would fall to kiss her toes, whereas they both had everything of the same but in different proportion. Or maybe some of Ellen's are still intact for the first commitment unlike this actress which may had been upped once too often. Nevertheless, the constant barrage of the seasoned writer like Ellen could squeeze water out of a stone if given her time.
The magic word to the 'nobility' was more than just a token but a real person of that rank. He was named Bertie.
"Bertie....Surely, you do not mean the ...." Ellen jaw had dropped down to a level which would had appealed to some men, but this was the time of civility; means to keep it shut.
"Ellen., stop your tail wagging." The actress rebuked at the expression on Ellen's face. "Bertie does better at that. He comes over to this manor when he was around. The Lord there brings in the ladies of his choice or would be his choice."
"You mean the Lord bring in ...." Ellen was getting upset that the man would indulge himself with those ladies.
"Consenting ones, my dear. They do get paid well. As I was told." The actress spoke out. "I never got selected then but I would be next week."
Ellen was taken aback and collapsed her jaws to contemplate what she was just told. Could this lady be serious? This actress bowing to the same trade as Darcy. She heard of the rumors but this was beyond any sensible words. Ellen looked at the other lady and challenged her preposterous remarks. Surprisingly her challenge was returned with an invitation to the manor on the following weekend.
"Why me?" Ellen asked.
"Perhaps your plain looks could give me more avenue." The actress laughed at Ellen. "Or I may just dropped Bertie and go for Benny. Anyway, be prepared to lose your vanity either way. At your holding level, it must be worth a chestful of coins." The actress sniggle before stepping up to sway off on her long legs while holding onto her little poodle. The poodle had its tongue wagging out at Ellen.
The guests at the Manor were few but among the few, they ranked as dignified in looks and status. There was an exception as the ladies outnumbered the men. You could tell that the dinner was hosted for more than the feast that was laid on the table. If there was an era to compared the scene, it would be the days when lions gobbled their victims in the arena.
Ellen despite the showering of her personal wealth to rent these marbles that hung around her neck, and the gown that costs as much as its length; she felt that she was below par to the others. But nothing could blew her composure to see the one person she would least expected to be here when he walked in.
Its really him, although he was dressed in that drabby tweed suit suitable for the duck season than a dinner in the manor.
She guess discretion may need to be preserved in his case. The dinner went well, with all the ladies crowding to speak to him while Ellen gets the nods from the men with cigars that probably exaggerated their actual size. But what upset Ellen much later into the after dinner talks was she heard herself targeted as one of the hussies for the taking. Obviously, someone had branded her to this or she would not had got invited to here. She feigned from sea sickness to absolute non-speaking to fight off the advances from these men whose wives were probably at home polishing knives or being polished by the butler.
Eventually, she took her leave of the hall and walked to the green lawn.
Ellen marveled at the stars above, and how she wished she could reach it when she felt the presence of another at her back. She thought it was the obese cigar chimp again and this time she would demonstrate to him why the cannibals like their meat with extra fats.
"Lord. Ben~" Ellen turned around to face the heavy breathing man but she was astounded when she was faced with the expression of the one she dreaded seeing but wanting to see.
"Your Roy.~" Ellen went for her curtsy but the young man in the tweeds held her up.
"Its okay, Lady Ellen." The man answered back. "Out here in the country, I am just Bertie to all."
Well, Bertie was obviously more appealing when met up front; the firmed body look with the well trimmed mustache and the fitting clothes. Ellen could feel her legs going under but Bertie was nice to offered her his elbow to walked the lawn. He started off with small talks and then proceeded to lead her to the nearby pavilion where a long divan was seen there.
"Please be seated, Ellen." She sat down on the divan while the man himself sat at the side next to her. His right hand reached for her left elbow and slowly rubbed it.
"I hoped that the long time I held, it had not slowed the circulation here." The warm hands of the man was more than just comforting; it was also enticing and Ellen felt her heart was throbbing with utmost urgency. She squirmed in her seats as she felt that she felt like in need of the washroom.
Bertie meanwhile was not a hurried man as his right hand slowly inched up the ladies forearm. He looked up at her face and could see that she was in a state of comfort well known to him. He leaned over ever slightly and kissed at her open shoulder are on the off shoulder gown.
"My Lord!" Ellen jumped up from the divan and walked to the edge of the pavilion. Bertie meanwhile sat there and looked amused at this lady whom he had just befriended.
"Your Roy~!" Then Ellen remembered the name. "Bertie, Sir."
"If I may..." Ellen tried to continued but stopped to looked at the man sitting there with his legs spread out. "Sir, please cross your legs."
Bertie looked down and then smiled. He closed his legs and looked up at the lady.
"My name is Ellen Reese. I am a writer. I am here....." But Bertie had stood up and point his finger at her.
"Ms. Reese, I do not speak to writer. One word of this meeting gets out, your head would rolled from your neck...." Bertie was obviously very upset. He was to walked away when Ellen grabbed his arm.
"Hear me out, Sir. As your subject, I deserved to be heard. If not here then in your court." Ellen pleaded to him. "But let me speak for now."
Bertie held by the arm was more agitated but his anger was placated by her appeal. She was still his subject and he had sworn an oath to be their leader. He reached out with his hand to removed hers and slowly lead her to the divan . He motioned to her to be seated and speak from there while he took a reasonable distance from her at the pavilion edge.
Ellen spoke on the plight of the prostitutes; not the ones that lived in the plush rooms feted by servants which they duly named themselves mistresses, but the ones who are in the dark slums, and shabby abodes. She spoke of their causes and why they became who they are, and with no assistance from the authorities.
"I can't stopped them." Bertie rebuked. "Its the oldest trade in the civilized world."
"Protect them, my liege." Ellen pleaded again. "They are your subjects too. Give them justice, or better still alternative."
"Ms. Reese, its not call to tell them how to behave. Its theirs and they choose to be ....that." Bertie turned to looked at the manor house. "I think I ought to go now."
"No, sire. Go now and you won't hear the last of me. I would tell the world of you....." Ellen threatened him.
"Ms.Reese, beware your head. We had a mutual arrangement for me to listen to you, you would not mentioned of this event."
"Yes, Sire. Then hear me out and we would called it equal." Ellen spoke up to him. Bertie looked at her and saw the determined looks in her would stopped this lady. He motioned to her to continue on and he shall listen. Their debates on the matter took them to the early morning of the next day, and finally Bertie who by then had sat on the pavilion steps agreed on some reforms.
"I would enact legislation to protect them with proper medical cares." Bertie announced to her. "But I cannot be responsible to the carrying out of this practice. There would be people assigned to enact them, administer them, and ensure compliance."
"Thank you, Your~ " Ellen paused and then correct herself. Bertie turned to walked but Ellen stopped him.
"Bertie, if I may asked one last favor." Ellen walked up to the man who stood there fidgeting as he was in need to use the bathroom. There was none around, and the lawn hedges looked tempting but it would be undignified to do it there.
"Speak, and made haste." Bertie spoke up.
"Could you...." Ellen leaned over with her eyes closed. Bertie from personal experiences, leaned on and gave her a peck on the cheek. And then he was running towards the House.
"Well, not what I expected, but I guess it would do." Ellen sighed. Then she realized that her gown was wet but the layers of it prevented it to be seen on the outside. "I wondered how long he had held it all back. Sure speaks for his prowess."
Ellen smiled at her own thoughts.
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