If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 5

“How did you find such a perfect candidate?” Henry asked, holding a sheet of paper filled with information and looking at Locke with admiration. He had completed his investigation of the woman in just two days.

Locke, skimming through the documents, looked up and motioned towards the papers with his chin. The sunlight streaming through the curtains highlighted a hint of interest on his face.

“Her name is Georgiana Courtney, twenty years old this year. Her family includes a father who sold his barony and fled to the New World, a mother with no practical skills, and a brother infamous for his gambling addiction.”

Henry shook his head and continued, “She’s been working as a governess to support her family but has been repeatedly dismissed. Apparently, she caught the interest of several nobles. Recently, she was sold to that ballet theater. If it were me, I would have run away a hundred times over.”

Locke hadn’t expected her situation to be quite so dire, but the reality was even bleaker than he anticipated. It seemed she was one of the many girls pushed into ballet theaters to be paraded before wealthy nobles.

Given her circumstances, Locke felt confident that things would go smoothly.

Even if she realized later that she had been used, she might be grateful just to be rescued from that household.

He recalled the image of her brother and the stench of alcohol that had accompanied him, a crooked smile forming on his lips. Money would likely resolve any issues easily.

“So, what’s the plan?” Locke asked, knowing that his capable lieutenant had likely prepared more than just the investigation.

Henry, his voice filled with confidence, began to explain. “I’ve placed people at the gambling den where her brother Willow frequently goes. We’ll push him into debt again and then offer to take his sister in exchange for the debt. We’ll convince him that she can work as a nude model to clear the debt. But are you really going to do the painting yourself?”

Henry’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked at the art supplies scattered around the room.

“The authorities have increased their surveillance, making unannounced visits. I need to at least pretend to be painting,” Locke explained.

His current false identity was that of a wealthy young man who traveled abroad, painting and living a libertine lifestyle. This persona was characterized by his focus on nude paintings, which helped lower people’s suspicions.

The country was relatively lenient towards artists, making it a useful cover, especially amidst the current tensions with the New World, which had led to increased scrutiny of outsiders.

He had visited the art shop a few days ago to stock up on supplies and ensure he had some sketches ready in case of sudden inspections.

“I never thought I’d see the day you’d actually paint a nude. If it turns out well, we should hang it in the center of the barracks as a permanent exhibit—”

“Keep talking, and the only thing that’ll be hung in the barracks is you, naked,” Locke cut him off sharply.

Henry immediately shut his mouth, well aware that his superior wasn’t one to make idle threats.

“I’ll get started on the plan then,” Henry said, turning quietly and slipping out without making a sound.

“Wait!” Locke called out, stopping Henry in his tracks.

He wanted to prepare for any unforeseen variables. The image of the gleaming blonde hair on the art store floor came to mind.

“Find out if there’s a shop that recently acquired a blonde wig.”

“A blonde wig?” Henry echoed.

“That woman originally had long blonde hair, but it looks like she cut it off because she needed money. Someone must have bought it.”

“How did you know that, Captain? Since when did you take an interest in her…?” Henry’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

“Enough with the nonsense,” Locke snapped coldly.

Henry, still intrigued, asked, “What do you plan to do with that information? Oh, right, Juliana had blonde hair, so you’d need a wig for her replacement.”

“Partly that,” Locke acknowledged.

If he returned the hair she had sold out of desperation, it might help break down her defenses a little faster. Some level of intimacy would be necessary to convincingly act as a married couple.

“Given that her name is similar to Juliana Hammond, it seems things might be working out well. I have a good feeling about this. I’ll be off now.”

As Henry left and the room fell silent, Locke finally noticed the chirping of birds outside. He walked to the window and looked down at a small bird perched on a branch. Its brown feathers tipped with yellow reminded him of someone.

The bird’s frail chirping echoed the trembling voice of the woman he had encountered. He pondered how this poor, delicate bird about to fall into his grasp might prove useful to him.

For a while, he stood there, listening to the bird’s song, contemplating the potential that lay ahead.

***

“Mom!”

Willow, who hadn’t been home for two days, returned early in the morning looking disheveled and woke Marianne up.

Hearing the loud voices and the mention of debt, Georgiana assumed that he had gambled again.

She was eating breakfast when Marianne delivered some shocking news.

“Willow has run up another gambling debt. It’s all because your father left us with nothing. Anyway, the person who lent him the money is an artist, and he said that if you pose as a nude model for him, we won’t have to repay the debt.”

“What? What do you mean?” Georgiana’s hand trembled as she held her spoon. The thin soup she was trying to swallow got stuck in her throat.

“What do you think it means? You need to be a model for the artist. How can you be so dense?” Marianne clicked her tongue in disapproval, showing no sign of guilt about pushing her daughter into such a situation.

“It’s not just modeling! It’s nude modeling!” Georgiana’s voice rose in panic.

Marianne casually tore off a piece of bread and responded indifferently, “Modeling, nude modeling, what’s the difference? You stand in front of an artist and get paid.”

“Mother… please… that’s not the same.”

“What does it matter if you’re just modeling or naked? Would you rather see your brother dragged away by debt collectors?”

As Georgiana’s resistance continued, Marianne’s patience wore thin, and her eyes narrowed. If the soup Georgiana had made wasn’t tepid, Marianne would have overturned it in anger.

“I’ll work as a teacher and earn the money. Just give me a few days! I’ll find a way to borrow it,” Georgiana pleaded, almost on her knees.

Marianne shook her head, unmoved by Georgiana’s desperation. “The agreement has already been made. It’s not like you’re selling your body. Just two days as a model, and the debt is gone. How can you refuse that?”

“I can’t do it. How can I undress in front of a stranger?”

“You’ll end up undressing in front of many people. What’s the difference if it’s just one?” Marianne’s eyes gleamed with a cruel amusement as she watched Georgiana’s horrified reaction.

“What do you mean?”

“The ballet theater you go to holds secret performances for gentlemen once a month. That’s why they hired you for such a high price. Didn’t you know? I suppose your first performance is next week. Think of this as a rehearsal.”

“What? No…” Georgiana felt the room spin as darkness crept into her vision. She tried to stand but wobbled, clutching the back of her chair for support.

No wonder they offered so much money.

She vividly remembered Willow’s face, gleefully taking the money purse after leaving her at the theater that first day. Unaware of the true nature of the place, she had spent the last few days excitedly learning ballet, feeling utterly foolish now.

“You need to leave for the address written there in an hour. We can’t risk them changing their mind if you’re late. Willow should go with you, but he’s too drunk to get up,” Marianne said, completely indifferent to the situation.

The thought of the man responsible for all this lying comfortably asleep while she was about to be sold off made her blood boil for the first time in her life. She had never defied her parents before, but she couldn’t imagine going through with this.

“I can’t do it. I won’t do it,” she declared, ready to leave immediately. Marianne’s warning stopped her in her tracks.

“If you refuse, I have no choice but to send you where your friend Emily went. You know, whether you like it or not, all daughters are under their family’s control.”

“How can you threaten me like this?” Georgiana’s tears fell again, soaking the worn carpet beneath her feet.

“We raised you for this. Do you know how much money we’ve spent on you? You should have been prepared for this,” Marianne scoffed, returning to her meal. Her soup, unlike Georgiana’s, was rich with vegetables and soon emptied.

She had thought her life couldn’t get worse, but watching her family drag her deeper into despair, she wished more than ever that she had been an orphan.

Pale and nauseous despite having eaten almost nothing, she had no choice but to leave the house under Marianne’s insistence.

“Do as you’re told and come back. Depending on how you perform, this might end today,” Marianne said, knowing Georgiana had no place to go but home.

With no money—Willow had taken everything two days ago—she had to walk to the destination.

She kept a small emergency stash hidden in her clothes, but it was for truly desperate times. Humblelum was a dangerous place, even in broad daylight, full of thieves and muggers. The deeper into the area one went, the poorer the residents were. Georgiana’s house was on the outskirts, relatively safer, but she still couldn’t let her guard down.

Walking briskly, she tried to leave the area quickly. However, before she had even crossed a block, someone called out to her.