...continued.

Tonight was different; I knew it already.
I sat in my usual corner at my usual card table, my eyes fixed on the flame of the usual candle in front of me, dark thoughts wandering in my head. It was nearing midnight and I had not pulled in any clients-- not for lack of wanting customers, I had been approached several times during the evening and had sent all of them away with a kind smile-- but I was not concerned; our house serviced more wealthy patrons than most brothels, and a single pull a night was more than enough to keep one well fed and well clothed. For this I was thankful, as Charles-- the master of our house-- was a kind and generous man who thought of us as courtesans rather than whores, and had gone through great measures to see that his employees were as educated as any scholar. He was Bohemian, a philosopher by nature and rejected the beliefs of our time that the "fallen woman" was a menace to society; he saw our struggle and recognized us as equals, not as horses for the whipping, and because of this we were allowed to love our work, myself included. A single pull a night was enough to leave us quite comfortable, to the point of having nights to one's self from time to time.
Besides, my target was not due until tomorrow night. Tonight was for me. The air was thick and full of the storm that was coming our way: it was only a matter of hours before our streets would be scrubbed by the pounding rain, though they would never be clean.
London will never be clean, I thought. The filth will always be a part of the romance. The fog, the dirt, the grime, the men... someday there will be mounds of poetry written in memory of our dirt when we are all dead and gone. Ballads dedicated to our scum... 
The flame of the candle flickered violently for a moment as the door opened in the foyer at the other side of the room. Out of habit and curiosity I looked to the threshold of our parlor, though my eyes were momentarily shrouded from staring at the flame. I squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to rid my sight of the purple and blue splotch that swam in the middle of my vision, and looked again just as he entered the room.
He was looking around the room as if he were urgently searching for something he was quite concerned about; his face held the shadow of a well contained panic, an expression he seldom wore. His ebony hair was slightly longer than I was used to so that it causally fell into his face, just barely long enough to make a mother frustrated. Other than those few traits, nothing about him had changed; he wore his usual black suit, new, expertly tailored and obviously expensive-- he seemed to have done well for himself of late to keep his usual appearance. His skin was still as pale as mine, that porcelain hue that was so fashionable yet so difficult to obtain without looking like the dead, and even from across the dim room I could see those eyes: ice blue, the color of the Egyptian sky, so pure they made you breathless just to think of them.
One word escaped my lips, barely a whisper. "James."
He scanned the room for half a second longer, brusquely refusing one of the ladies of the house who was offering to take his hat and coat, before those eyes rested on me; his expression instantly softened and the devil-may-care look returned to his face as he sauntered towards me. I didn't bother getting up.
Our eyes remained locked as he waded through the bodies that occupied the parlor, twenty or so at least, and sat across from me at the miniature table. We sat in silence for a moment, staring at each other's wide eyes and raised brows. It was finally I who broke the silence, though only by repeating his name. "James."
"I'm Jasper now."
I snickered as I discreetly took the ring off my right hand and slipped it into a pocket hidden in my skirts, half of a smile refusing to leave my face. "Jasper? I like it. And how are you faring, Jasper?"
He gazed at me for a long second before answering. "Rather well, Ivy, thank you. You look ravishing, as always."
I felt myself blush, but took no notice. "I go by Adele now."
We paused before we allowed ourselves the nervous laughter that was inevitable; he finally leaned back in his chair, and I let out the rest of the breath I hadn't noticed I'd been holding. 
"I'm still going to call you Ivy, I hope you don't mind."
"How did you find me?"
"I still have friends here and there."
"James." My tone had turned sharp, sharper than I had intended but I had a point to get across. "If you can find me, others can."
He tilted his head to one side, smirking. "That, my dear, is entirely ridiculous, and you know it. I had hoped you thought better of me." His hand reached for mine under the table, his skin brushing my finger for only an instant. "I would track you across the earth if I had to," he added softly. 
I pursed my lips, ignoring his touch. "I need to know. Coming back to England was not exactly the safest of choices for me, but it had to be done and I must be on my guard."
"Horace pointed me in the right direction."
I nodded. "Ah, Horace. How is the old rascal? I've been meaning to go and visit him, but who has the time?"
"Yes, I hear whoring is quite time consuming." Those blue eyes were daring me to retort. I raised one eyebrow. 
"It's temporary; I'm working on something."
"A new con?"
"Hardly new, love. I'm working on commission; this has been in the works for quite some time."
James' brows were suddenly furrowed; I could tell I'd piqued his interest. "Big?"
"Huge, if you must know. I've been placed to... learn a thing or two from a regular customer."
"Who are you working for, Ivy?"
I snorted. "Why do you care?"
He tilted his head slightly in my direction. "Just looking out for you, dear."
I couldn't believe my ears. "You? Looking out for me? I never took you for daft, but here you are all the same. So, you have no problem leaving me to the police in Moscow, yet you are troubled by the news of my wicked ways. How amusing. James, why did you come here? It wasn't to look out for me."
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; it was subtle-- the gesture would have slipped away unnoticed to any eye that had not known him for so long, but I had bedded him in the far regions of the world and he was, after all, my long time companion, though Fate seemed bent on separating us and reuniting us in the most unusual places. Most people would not have thought James to be capable of being uncomfortable, but I knew better and saw him squirm (in his way) under my gaze.
He muttered something right as a man across the room roared with laughter.
"I didn't catch that." I raised one eyebrow.
James pursed his lips as if to hide a smile, but he'd already given himself away. "I heard you had become a whore, and you expect me to not be curious?"
"You speak as if you are ignorant of the position."
His eyes betrayed puzzlement. "Beg your pardon?"
I laughed without the slightest attempt to conceal my bitterness. "I sell my body for three reasons: the con, the money, and the pleasure. You? I've seen you sell that body for so much less, and your dignity as well. I take my pick of businessmen, barons and who knows; I certainly don't, nor do I care. I will tell you this: you are the oldest whore in this room. Do not think to insult me, you are no virgin."  
He looked at me with heavy lidded eyes, as if my insult had bored him, but the slight twist at the corners of his mouth revealed that I had struck a nerve. He smoothed the thighs of his trousers, very deliberately, before looking back at me. "Are you going to tell me the job or are we just going to sit here stabbing each other all night? Come, we are old colleagues."
I pursed my lips, debating how much to indulge. "I misspoke to call it a confidence job. Money is not the object here."
James gave me a devious smirk, an expression so familiar to me that my heart immediately sank. I knew I had intrigued him, and he would not cease to inquire until he was satisfied or I had found a way to give him the slip; I was the only one who ever could. "Not for money, you say. Then what could you possibly be working toward, Adele?" He grinned as he emphasized my alias, cocking his head to the side in a manner so rakish I could have thrown the candle at him without guilt or shame.
"I shouldn't be speaking of it, it was a mistake to even mention it to you."
"Oh no, not that easy. You still owe me for St Petersburg."
I had been prepared to open my mouth to retort, but stopped short in shock. "You are going to call in a favor for something as simple as this? The job doesn't even concern you, why do you care?"
James shrugged. "You've made me curious, I will not be satisfied otherwise." I knew him well enough to believe him capable of such folly, though I was still suspicious.
"Wasting a favor from me is foolish and you know it."
He laughed outright. "That is true, forgive me for forgetting my place. I spoke hastily. I am simply captivated at the thought of Ivy Walker working for an incentive other than money or pride."
"Keep your voice down when you use that name. Believe it or not I am rather political, and that is the nature of my game. Hence my reluctance to indulge, if you don't mind."
"I'll pay you."
"I only take money from patrons."
"I said I'll pay you."
It was the second time he had shocked me that evening, and I was not growing used to it nor enjoying the feeling. "James, you're being ridiculous."
"What's your going rate?"
"Expensive."
"I am rather well-off these days."
"Why are you doing this?"
He leaned over the small table towards me, so close I could feel his breath on my ear, so close he could whisper and I could hear every word, his cheek almost brushing mine. "Because you've changed, Ivy, since I last saw you. I want to know what could drive the woman who left me in Cairo. I miss the heat of your bed." I remained motionless as he returned to his original position oposite me. "Is that a satisfactory explanation?"
I'm sure my eyes were something of a glare as I scrutinized him again. "You are quite the player. I would say you have the makings of a man in love, if I did not know you better. Perhaps you should give up the game and take up the stage instead."
"Mock me if you like. I am not interested in details, but our kind don't change. Either there's a side of you I have been unable to penetrate in the past, or there's another motive to your work here. I thought I knew you well." 
I looked away, turning my attention to a group of young men who had just come through the door. They were younger than our usual patrons; they still had an air of innocence about them, though their fine attire spoke volumes of their station in life. Two of the ladies of the house took their coats and hats, inviting them to come play in their laps for the evening. Money is money anywhere, and if they had enough then they were welcome here. 
I could not feign distraction forever. I returned to the conversation at hand. "My father was a leader of the underground, my family has been fighting against Parliament since it's inception. Did you know that? I am merely playing the next note for the cause. One of the patrons here is... influential, and has taken a liking to me, as planned; I oblige him regularly, and I am privy to certain pieces of information, though I'm sure he does not know that he indulges them. I am compensated for keeping my post here, as well as the delivery of any knowledge I glean from his visits to me. As he is so fond of me to the point of refusing any other lady in the house, I am not in any position to pursue any other line of work. It isn't permanent, but it is a delicate and long standing job. I would rather you not say anything about it, if you don't mind. As one friend to another." 
"Friend?" His face twisted into something resembling pain, though the expression was only held for an instant and was gone so quickly I almost thought I had imagined it. It was replaced with a stoic gaze in my direction, though I felt as though he were looking directly through me and scrutinizing the wall behind me instead. "A dear friend, am I allowed to hope?" 
I had never seen him betray any shadow of emotion, aside from those required by the jobs we had worked together all those years ago. "James, what are you on about?" 
He stood abruptly.


...to be continued, after dinner and sex.