If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 10

“Where have you been that you’re coming home at this hour?” Willow growled, still seething with anger even after throwing a punch. His expression made it seem like he was the one who had been wronged, and Georgiana clutched her swelling cheek, looking at him with a mixture of pain and indignation.

“What are you looking at like that? Think you did nothing wrong?” he barked, raising his hand for another strike, but he hesitated when he saw the blood at the corner of her mouth.

Though she couldn’t see her own face, Willow’s sudden change in demeanor indicated she must have been hurt quite badly. The taste of blood in her mouth confirmed it.

Having taken the blow squarely on the face, the inside of her cheek was completely torn. The outside felt numb, possibly bruised already. Georgiana was just thankful none of her teeth had been broken, swallowing the blood that pooled in her mouth.

“I told you to be a model, not to go and have dinner. Do you think just informing me you’re going to be late is enough?” Willow snarled.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, her voice weak as she looked up at him, eyes filled with helplessness.

“Of course you should be sorry. Because of you, we couldn’t even have dinner. We’ve been starving,” he spat.

“I’ll make something right away. Please wait a moment,” she said, turning to go.

“Hold on a second,” Willow called out, stopping her in her tracks. “You didn’t… spread your legs for that guy, did you? It’s strange he’d serve you dinner and everything.”

“How can you even say that?” Georgiana’s voice rose, unable to contain her anger. She could tolerate insults directed at herself, but the thought of her gentlemanly host being disparaged fueled her fury.

“So, you didn’t?” he asked, eyes narrowing with a hint of anxiety.

Is he worried because of some deal involving me?

“Nothing happened. He’s not that kind of person,” she stated firmly.

“And how would you know what kind of person he is?”

“Because nothing happened. And if you were so worried about that, you shouldn’t have sent me in the first place,” she retorted, turning to leave. Even if Willow decided to beat her to death, she couldn’t stand listening to his baseless accusations any longer.

Before she could take a few steps, he grabbed her shoulder with a powerful grip, roughly spinning her around. Her blouse nearly ripped as he seized her by the collar.

“You think just because some noble or artist served you dinner, you’re something special now? You’d better not forget your place. You’re nothing but a commodity, ready to be sold off at any time,” Willow sneered, his grip on her tightening.

“Ugh.”

“If you want to be sold for a high price, you’d better take care of that body of yours.”

Her light frame shook violently in Willow’s grasp, and despite her efforts to hold them back, tears spilled down her cheeks. Only after he’d taken every coin left in her pocket did he finally release her, allowing her to stumble back.

“Get dinner ready,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

This is my reality, she thought, worse than hell. But it’s okay. Not much longer now.

Despite the throbbing pain in her cheek and the dizziness from being shaken, she clung to the hope of her departure in two days. She wouldn’t let herself break. She still has hope.

***

“What is this?”

As she washed her face and looked in the mirror, Georgiana barely stifled a gasp of horror. Despite applying the last of her ointment before bed, her cheek, which had been struck by Willow, had swollen to twice the size of the other.

It looked like she had stuffed food into her cheek like a squirrel, and heavy makeup couldn’t hide it. In fact, the makeup seemed to accentuate the swelling, making it stand out even more. She washed her face again, staring at her reflection with a despondent expression.

What will he think when he sees this?

More than anything, Georgiana felt utterly humiliated at the thought of him seeing her like this. Not only was she being sold off to be a model to pay off a debt, but she was also getting beaten. It felt like she had shown him the absolute lowest point of her life.

But regardless of the painting, she needed to retrieve the boarding pass. She had no choice but to go see him.

“What happened to your face? This is why you should come home early,” Marianne clicked her tongue in disapproval as she finally came out for breakfast and saw Georgiana’s swollen cheek.

“Yes, I will,” Georgiana replied quietly.

Georgiana decided to tolerate them as much as possible until she boarded the ship. She couldn’t risk getting locked up or something worse before she could escape.

She peeled some potatoes to make gratin, Marianne’s favorite, and cleaned the house while keeping Willow in a good mood. By the time she finished, it was almost noon.

There was no chance the boarding pass would disappear in the meantime, but she checked the clock repeatedly, feeling anxious. She hurried to prepare to go out, but suspicious looks followed her every move.

“You’re going out looking like that?” Marianne asked with a sneer.

“Maybe the man there likes her,” Willow said with a snicker.

“Exactly. She’s not even saying she won’t go today,” Marianne added.

“It’s not like that. Didn’t you say I have to go today?” Georgiana’s heart was pounding wildly, but she responded calmly to avoid raising any suspicion.

She covered her face as much as possible with a cheap hat that had a veil and hurried out of the house. She could feel their eyes on her back, as if they were watching her every move until she disappeared.

As she entered the neighborhood where Lockwood lived, the desire to just board the ship and leave welled up inside her.

Should I ask him?

Just for today… could you let me stay over?

Based on yesterday, he might agree, but Georgiana quickly shook her head. It would be too shameless to ask such a favor from someone she barely knew.

It might also put him in a difficult position, she thought, trying to convince herself. I just need to live like I’m dead until tomorrow.

Since she had been there once before, Georgiana arrived at the front door more quickly than yesterday. However, she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her as she imagined facing him with her current appearance. She paced in front of the door repeatedly, adjusting the veil over her head several times.

Just as she was completing her tenth round with her head bowed, she heard the door click open and saw a tall shadow approaching.

“How long were you planning to pace in front of the door without coming in? And what’s with the veil? Did you mistake this place for a church?” Lockwood asked, his voice laced with laughter.

She wanted desperately to look at his smiling face, but if she did, he would immediately see the bruise on her face. Even though he would eventually see it, she wanted to delay it for as long as possible.

Georgiana stammered a response, “It’s just… veils are quite fashionable these days. Let’s go inside.”

Lockwood’s laughter was warm, but as she moved to pass him and head inside, he suddenly blocked her path and swiftly pulled off her hat. Under the clear, cloudless sky, the face she had tried so hard to hide was now fully exposed.

“So, is getting hit also in fashion now?” he growled, his cold gaze piercing her face alongside the sunlight.

“Pl-please give it back,” she stuttered, reaching out for her hat, but he examined her face with an anger she had never seen before.

“Was it your brother again? Because you were late yesterday?” he demanded.

She remained silent, but her silence spoke volumes.

“I didn’t even need to ask,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “I apologize. If I had anticipated this, I would have sent you home earlier. I assumed everything would be fine since I had informed him of your delay. It was my mistake for being so complacent.”

“No, it’s not your fault. Even without this, Willough would have…” she began, trying to defend him, but Lockwood’s face grew darker.

Indeed, there was no excuse for what had happened. She couldn’t simply say that it was because her brother hit her often.

He sighed, taking in her tired appearance. “If it’s too difficult, I won’t ask anymore.”

“……”

“Have you eaten?” he asked softly.

“Well…” She hesitated. Her swollen mouth made even a thin soup difficult to consume, and she had been fasting up until now.

“Let’s go inside and eat first,” he said, his footsteps heavy with frustration as he led the way.

As Georgiana followed him inside, her heart swelled with emotion. No one had ever shown such understanding of her plight. She bit her lip to hold back tears.

It seemed Lockwood had given instructions in advance, as the table was set with soft foods despite it being lunchtime. Unlike the cheerful meal from the day before, this time both of them ate in silence. His servant, seeing her swollen cheek, looked shocked and kept hovering around, muttering curses under his breath.

After the servant’s curses reached over twenty times, Georgiana couldn’t help but giggle, though it stung her mouth.

“I’m really okay,” she said, trying to reassure them.

Both Lockwood and the servant, who was pouring her water, turned their incredulous gazes toward her, making her stifle another laugh.

Once the meal was cleared, they naturally moved to the studio. Despite Lockwood saying the painting could wait, Georgiana insisted on modeling out of guilt, so he set up for the session. More importantly, she wanted to ask him about the missing ticket. If he hadn’t seen it, she planned to search his house herself.

The studio was dimly lit, just like yesterday, with only candlelight. She scanned the room for the missing paper but saw nothing.

Seated on the green velvet couch, she watched him prepare the easel and nervously licked her lips, preparing to ask about the ticket.

“Um, excuse me… by any chance…” she began.

“Yes? Is there a problem…” Lockwood replied, but just then, the studio door flew open.