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FROM THE MOMENT I AGREED TO MODEL FOR Thomas, my life began to move at a rapid pace. I was thrilled that he assumed responsibility for contacting my family, yet concerned at the same time about what he would tell them.
The carriage that Thomas secured rolled up in front of Mc-Givney’s pub. The loud din of voices, some raised in song, filtered through to the outside. I’d never been in a real pub before.
Thomas helped me from the carriage and nodded to William, who took me by the elbow and escorted me to the establishment’s front door.
“What will he tell my family?” I asked William. He’d already begun to distance himself in a cordial manner.
“Hard to say, but Thomas is quick on his feet,” William responded, not looking at me.
I did not understand how William could so easily dismiss what had happened between us. It was not how I believed it should be. I wanted to speak more to him about it, but it would have to wait—Thomas, smiling triumphantly, walked toward us.
“There we go. I’ve taken care of that.” He gave me a wink.
“May I ask what you stated in your message, Mr. Rodin?”
He tucked his arm around my waist and leaned in close. Again, I was assaulted by his exotic, earthy scent.
“Call me Thomas,” he whispered, and placed a hasty kiss on my temple. “I insist.” He wagged his finger at me.
“Very well…Thomas. Again, may I ask what message you sent?” For all of his charismatic charm, I needed to know what he had told my family so I could uphold the lie when I returned home. It was not something I was looking forward to.
He shrugged. “Simple, really. I told them you were staying in town to help a friend.”
“A friend?” I repeated, seeing my father’s face in my mind as he read the note.
He opened the pub door and the boisterous sound from inside came spilling out onto the street.
“Yes, you do have friends, don’t you, Helen?” he called to me above the din, ushering William and me ahead of him.
“Yes, of course—” I started, but the noise drowned out my words. The thick smoky haze caused me to squint. The acrid scent of ale and sweat permeated the air. I held my hand to my nose as I was pushed forward, the crowd catching me in its current. I lost sight of both William and Thomas. I tried not to panic as I stood in the midst of the sea of men, most of them drunk. A hand snaked around my waist and instinctively I batted at it.
“It’s only me, Helen.” Thomas pressed his mouth near my ear. “Hold tight and stay close. I’ll get us to our table.” He did not let go as we weaved through the crowd. Ahead I saw one of the barmaids, gripping two tankards in one hand. She bumped into Thomas, causing him to stop. He acted surprised at first, then threw his head back and laughed.
“Annie, you little trollop. How are you?” He released my hand and grabbed her face, kissing her hard on the mouth. With a sly smile, he discreetly tucked a shilling down the front of her low-cut bodice, then he tugged me to his side, clamping his arm around my waist.
“Annie.” He grinned with pride. “I want you to meet my newest pupil, Helen.”
The woman looked me over from head to toe, her dark brown eyes snapping in challenge.
“’Pupil’ is what you call it now? Be mindful, Helen. Thomas surely enjoys his role as teacher.” She kissed his cheek and eyed me again.
“Do you think she has what it takes, Thomas, to be one of us?” she said, as if I did not hear what she was saying, or didn’t care if I did. Regardless, if she was the example of an artist’s model, I did not intend to become like her. Although it seemed my new employer found her most agreeable.
Thomas’s laughter melded into the roar of the crowd. “Bring us a round, Annie, and some of those oysters. Come, Helen. Pay this wicked wench no mind. She’ll be lucky if she ever sits for me again,” he shouted, but his smile revealed he was teasing.
“Watch out for that one, Helen,” Annie called over her shoulder as she handed the pitchers to the barkeep. “Be sure you know what Thomas will have you sittin’ on!” Thomas reached over and smacked her bum. Her surprise turned to glee as she faced him, plucked her fingers down her cleavage and retrieved his monetary gift. She gave him a sly wink and kept her eye on me as Thomas pulled me toward the back of the pub.
“Thomas! Will here says we’ve got us a new stunner,” exclaimed a ruddy-faced man with spectacles perched on his rosetipped nose. He stood as I squeezed between two large chaps, lost my footing and careened headlong toward the floor.
William appeared seemingly from nowhere and caught me before I landed flat on my face.
“Don’t be frightened, Helen. The boys are friendly.”
“Thank you,” I responded, quickly releasing myself from his grasp.
The man with the glasses offered me his seat. William ushered me to the chair. I tried to offer the men a friendly smile, wondering if I would have to spend much time with them collectively. I had a sudden change of heart and turned to find William to ask him to take me home, but he had disappeared and apparently so, too, had Thomas.
Annie sauntered up to the table and slammed two pitchers of ale on the table, sending the contents splashing over the side.
“Let’s see what she’s got,” she called out to the men around the table.
My heart stopped. What on earth? I frantically scanned the faces of the men, whose eyes had all turned to me. I was grateful to spot Thomas making his way over to my side. He held out his hand.
“They’re perfectly harmless, I assure you.” He looked down at me, his cerulean-blue eyes sparkling wickedly.
“I—I don’t understand.” I looked again at the men seated around the table. They did not seem as friendly anymore. One of them, a stately looking chap with a shaggy blond beard, smacked the table once with his hand. He looked at his peers, giving them a grin, and they, too, began to slap the table.
“These are my brothers, Helen. Their approval is vital. It would not bode well to keep them waiting,” Thomas said. “Besides, it’s all in good fun.”
I cautiously took his hand and stood. The drumming grew louder. My gaze landed on Annie, who’d precipitated this demonstration. She gave me a smug look, amusement dancing in her eyes. “What am I to do?” I asked Thomas, averting my eyes from hers.
“Get up on the table,” he responded with an easy grin.
“You want me to stand on the table in front of all these people?” I stared at him with wide eyes.
“Your face is going to be seen by far greater numbers, my muse. Come on now, up you go.”
“But I—” I started, but my protests dissolved when his hands circled my waist and he lifted me to the tabletop.
Raucous laughter and applause followed as I looked down at the gallery of approving male faces. Thomas held my hand, displaying a sense of ownership that I found comforting.
The brotherhood men nodded, waving their hands, motioning for me to turn. A couple of them lifted my skirt to view my ankles. Thomas slapped away their hands but laughed good-naturedly. After a moment or two, I offered a smile, dipping in a short curtsy. I no longer felt like that ugly duckling. I looked down at Thomas, his fingers locked with mine, his smile encouraging, and I believed I’d become a beautiful swan. The catcalls and whistles continued, drawing curious onlookers into the private circle.
“Very well, gentlemen, that’s enough,” Thomas ordered, reaching up for me.
I inched to the edge of the table and leaned forward. He grabbed me around the waist, his hands sliding precariously close to my breasts as he lifted me to the ground. He held my gaze possessively, letting my body slide slowly down the front of his.
My feet touched the floor, but he continued to hold me close, his arm encircling my waist.
“You’ve got your balance, then?”
Pressed against his solid frame, I could barely think, my heart still beating from the rush of my initiation. Balance? Doubtful.
“I do, Mr.—Thomas,” I answered, pleased when I saw Annie scowl and turn back into the crowd.
Thomas kissed my forehead and drew back, his eyes resting for a heartbeat on my mouth before he returned his eyes to mine.
“Welcome to the brotherhood, Miss Bridgeton.”
“Do call me Helen,” I said bravely.
“As you wish.” He grinned.
I was living a lie, but to whose benefit? For two months, I had been telling Madame Tozier that my stomach was the cause of the many afternoons that I had asked to leave the shop early. However, as my acting skills grew weaker, the actual pains in my stomach increased. I found myself losing track of the days, and on more than one occasion I had nearly taken too much of my medicine, forgetting when I last took it. I could not sleep.
William’s aloof behavior pervaded my mind. Since our liaison, he had not attempted to speak with me except in passing and was usually absent when I was at the studio. At night my mind would creep back to that summer afternoon, how the soft warm breeze had wafted over our fevered bodies. I lay on my bed, mesmerized by the flickering flame of the oil lamp beside my bed. I remembered his tongue, the roughness of his hands gliding over me, plucking my nipples until I begged for more. Desperate to recapture that euphoric feeling, I used my hands to imitate his, brushing my fingers through my soft curls and spreading my sweet crevice, mimicking the exquisite pleasure he’d given me. I licked my dry lips, arching my back to the memory of him heavy inside me, his body pressed to mine. In my mind, I saw the sweet determination in his gentle eyes, our bodies fused in delicious, slick friction. Then my body broke free, my muscles caressing, squeezing around him.
I stared at the flame, drawing my hand over my stomach, my physical need now satiated. Nevertheless, I held on to the desperate longing for his affection, realizing with chilling clarity that perhaps he did not feel the same. I’d even written a poem for us called, Another Time, Another Place, and slipped it into William’s coat pocket hoping he might respond, but if he found it, he made no mention of it.
It was of little surprise to me when William entered the studio one afternoon and announced his departure.
“Well, I’m off soon. My train leaves within the hour.”
“You’re leaving?” I rubbed the back of my neck, stiff and sore from sitting too long. I bowed my head so he would not see the disappointment in my eyes. “Thomas didn’t mention it.”
“It’s just a short trip to Rome. I plan to tour a few cathedrals and perhaps a garden or two in search of inspiration.”
“Be cautious of those beautiful gardens, Will. Some of their caretakers do not appreciate foreigners plucking them,” Thomas said with a smirk.
It was evident he was speaking metaphorically of women. I brushed his comment from my mind, rubbing my arms under the sleeves of the itchy damask gown that Thomas insisted I wear. The two brothers embraced and William gave me a tight smile. “Miss Bridgeton.” He nodded.
“Mr. Rodin.” I continued the appearance that we’d never been intimate with each other. If he could perform the task so well, I could, too. After William left, I followed Thomas out to the balcony. We stood watching his carriage amble down the cobblestone street.
“I miss him like the devil when he’s gone,” Thomas said quietly.
He sighed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, resting his chin on my head.
“It’s just you and me now, Helen. He’s gone and left us behind while he trots off on a new adventure.”
“Does he take these trips often?” I asked. The warmth of Thomas’s arms made me feel secure. It was his nature to be physical—he was prone to giving hugs and pecks on the cheek, even to the other men in the brotherhood.
He lifted aside my unbridled hair and nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath my ear.
“When the spirit moves him. I prefer to find my inspiration closer to home.” The smell of wine wafted beneath my nose as his palm moved over my right breast, squeezing gently.
“Are you inspired, my muse?” he whispered against the curve of my neck.
I slipped from his grasp. “The light is waning, Mr. Rodin.”
“I have asked that you call me Thomas,” he said with quiet firmness.
“All right, Thomas. Still, if you wish to do more this afternoon before I leave—”
“Oh, yes, my muse. I would love to do more.”
“I’ve no doubt you would, Thomas. Do you think I am so innocent that I do not know your reputation?”
He looked at me curiously. “I think you pretend not to know how you affect me, Helen.”
“I do think, Thomas, that you have found your inspiration much too easily in the past.”
His smile grew wide. “Aha! My innocent little muse has a cunning side, as well.”
“I am not worldly, it is true, but I do know a rogue when I see one.”
“A rogue?” He held his hand to his heart. “Woman, you wound me with your words far too romantic for a man like me. A man, as you say, of my reputation.”
“Perhaps I should take my leave for the afternoon.” I turned away and he grabbed my arm.
“My apologies, Helen. I had no idea that my affections would be repulsive to you.”
“You are not repulsive to me, Thomas, nor are your affections. But do not think that because I am here, you may take advantage of the situation.”
“I see. You are a woman who prefers to be wooed, is that it?” He stepped around me, blocking my escape back into the studio.
“I am a woman with needs, innocent though you think me to be.” I faced him.
His gaze narrowed and he took my chin between his fingers.
“Those dark circles—your complexion is pale. Helen, what is the matter? What ails you?”
His immediate change in topic and manner scattered my thoughts.
“I am not sleeping well,” I admitted.
He pulled me into his embrace and laid his cheek on the top of my head.
“You must learn to trust me, Helen. When you are unhappy, I am unhappy.”
“I don’t see myself through your eyes, Thomas.”
“Then I will have to do better at showing you how important you are to me.”
He smoothed his hands up and down my spine, and I welcomed this tender gesture. “You have been good to me, Thomas.”
“I could be much more, Helen, if you’d allow.”
His concern for my health prompted me to admit my worry regarding my employer. “I cannot keep lying, Thomas. I fear I will lose my job, or worse, Madame Tozier will go to my mother and ask her about my health.”
He frowned. “Neither she nor your family realize that you’ve been posing for me?”
I sighed. “Not everyone is as enamored of the brotherhood as you may like to think.”
He chuckled. “You needn’t remind me.” His eyes drifted over my shoulder as if deep in thought. “Then we shall go see this Madame Tozier and teach her to adore the brotherhood,” he said finally.
I laughed softly. “Do you honestly think that you can make a difference?”
“Go get dressed. I’ll order us a carriage.” He smiled. “Oh, wait, do you need any help?” he called after me.
