Brightside Revisited

She slipped outside to have a late cigarette. Her latest client wasn't taking the hint, and actually expected his paltry money to allow him to sleep over in her bed. Hers! If he hadn't moved by the time she got back into the warmth, she'd have her servants throw him out. Time was precious, in her profession.

There was scant protection on the balcony, but enough that the breeze was bracing. Only occasional mist wafted up to touch her face. The smoke hung in the air, and dissolved quickly in the rain. Her eyes wandered in the foggy haze, barely lit by a few of the new oil street lamps. Her eyes skipped over the crumpled heap of cloth blocking the gutter-

She was ringing the bell pull conveniently placed beside the door before her brain registered the human figure inside the coat lying in that gutter. She and her servants swarmed outside, and both were bundled inside within moments - she in a warm bath robe, he (turns out the gutter object was male) in a warm blanket with hot bricks at his feet. Both with the best brandy, both with some nourishing soup broth. He truly didn't want to talk, but her profession could be quite persuasive...

You know the story. You've heard the song by now. But even the most hardened of courtesans can be forgiven for having a heart of gold, and this was a chance to even the score a bit.

She gave instructions to her servants. They moved swiftly, considering the weather - they'd listened to his story, too, and wanted revenge for his mistreatment. This young student's life would be very different come morning. His head nodded; she'd laced his soup liberally with the same good brandy. A manservant made sure he was dry and comfortable as she made her way to her (thankfully empty) bed.

******

He didn't know where he was when he woke up. Nor did he know the lady sitting by his bed, daintily finishing what smelled like a ravishing breakfast. She handed him a mug of excellent coffee, but no milk or sugar. "You will need your wits about you today, young one, so no doctoring this morning. Later we will be civilized; for now, enjoy breaking your fast with eggs and toast."

A smartly dressed butler handed him a bed tray with pretty cutlery and the aforementioned food. He had nearly finished when last night's memories caught up with him, and he almost heaved his breakfast onto the bed-

"Don't! Don't you dare ruin my perfectly good bedspread that way!" He looked at her again, and something about her poise or composure settled him just enough. She relaxed before he did. "That's better. Your face says you recall earlier memories. What about later ones?"

He sat back - and realized he was completely naked underneath the covers just as the butler took the tray away. And looking at her, she was dressed in something so clingy and silky that his own mother could only describe it as "indecent". But his memories remained blurry. "Uh - where am I?"

"At a certain number on Rue Mirage that everyone knows. I found you trying your best to drown in my gutter. I extracted your story from you, and I'm inclined to change your fortune. For all the rumors surrounding me, no one can ever claim that I stole someone's affection."

He considered that. And a bubble of memory surfaced. "My.... possessions-"

"You have few, but they are precious. And safely installed in a room upstairs. I have taken the liberty of breaking your lease on that perfectly pestilent tenement you called an 'apartment'. Unless you object, I want you to live here with my servants. It is safer."

"But - that means-"

"That the piece of merde that used to call you 'best friend' is also displaced, since he couldn't afford the rent without you covering his sorry ass? Yes, I believe he - and she - were tossed into the rain and mud. Lots of mud. Very muddy, that front lawn. I think that lawn should be torn up, I believe there might be a broken sewage pipe underneath that contributes to the...'muddiness.'

"I also sent messages to your parents. And his, and hers. Oh, and the papers, with a full explanation concerning your broken engagement. And a sketch of being caught in flagrante, by a police officer friend of mine who discovered them. This is one social scandal that will not be swept under the rug - ah, speaking of which-"

A newspaper appeared in his field of vision, and she opened it with a snap. Front page, above the fold. And the sketch was very accurate. "You will find a letter from your father in the box of your possessions upstairs, with all the signatures and seals pertaining to a broken engagement contract. You are in no way held accountable for their reprehensible behavior. But - you need your education, and you have classes today. You need to be there." She fixed him with a hard stare. "Make no mistake, today will be incredibly difficult. You will learn who your true friends are. Take careful note. Oh, and my manservant will go with you - because harsh days need people to lean on." She swept out of the room, taking the newspaper with her. And the butler helped him out of bed and into some lovely tailored things that he could never afford.

****

The butler - Andrew, that was his name - kindly took notes during his classes. And asked pertinent questions. The professor was impressed, but Andrew demurred when invited to luncheon to discuss philosophy. "He would be horrified, not impressed, to learn my true occupation. And more horrified to learn my true identity," he added cryptically.

Andrew also steered him back "home" - the most famous address on the most famous street in the city. Servants (and other specials) slept in the attic, which was already nicer than the drawing room in his old flat. The third floor was for Herself - bedroom, bath, social room, dining room, library. Second floor was for "appointments," with a guarderobe and bath in the back for servants and specials and clients. First floor was split - public social rooms in front, kitchen and other servant-related rooms in the back. The library on the first floor, also the music room, like the other public rooms, was open for servants and specials for perusal or study or personal socializing with friends and family... and socializing with "appointments", if that's what suited them, before taking them up to the second floor. Where there was a sumptuous bed in every room, big enough for four at least.

Andrew patted his arm kindly when he saw the look he was being given. "Really, old chap, all of her servants are trained for that profession, even if we don't choose to practice. If nothing else, it will serve us well if we choose to seek employment elsewhere, or ever get married. Learning is applauded here, and encouraged, though discretion is necessary for some of the more... esoteric subjects."

Dinner on the third floor was also more training - how many forks? Which spoon for dessert? - but he knew about this at least, and could pay some back by helping train others. Andrew was at his elbow, learning eagerly. Another servant was acting as butler to Herself. "I was assigned to you," he said mildly when asked. "Remember, we're all being trained. We all wear different hats throughout our lives, and cross-training is considered a virtue in this household."

And studying afterward. Again, with Andrew helping with concepts and mnemonics. "Is this going to be my new schedule?" he asked, and when Andrew nodded, "that will sour some 'friends' on my change of address. You heard them already wrangling for invites."

"Indeed, and I suggest you perfect the Slightly Ironic Half-Smile while saying nothing. If you wish to eventually invite a small, select group, that's perfectly acceptable and we can fit it in to the house schedule. If they think that the invite extends to after-dinner entertainment beyond Janelle and her excellent harp music, we have also perfected the humiliating bum's rush out the front very-public door. I took notes on the sidelong looks you were being given today - I took the liberty of dividing them into Sympathy, Horror, Predatory, and Shock. Shall we discuss which ones to cultivate, and why?" More studying, but of the murky waters of Social Standing and Jockeying.

Morning came early. And schooling, and studies. Lather, rinse, repeat. At least sleep was exhausting and untroubled.

Saturday was a blessed relief, to sleep in. And an excellent lunch afterwards. And another interview with Herself. She was dressed in something more substantial than last time, and looked even more expensive than the last. "Only the finest silk for my abused body at this time of afternoon, darling," she smiled when she saw his look. "I was up late with well-heeled clients, and with two or three of those sessions I actually had to break a sweat. But though Andrew has kept me updated on your progress and fitting in, I wanted to hear from the horse's mouth how well you like it here."

"I really haven't noticed my living quarters; my focus is on studies."

"And that's as it should be. Andrew is a hard taskmaster, but he's correct to keep you from the distractions this house can afford. You have a good mind, and with your status and contacts, I think you have the makings of a first-rate accountant. With a few clients - and some discreet ones - you could be filthy rich a few years after graduation. Which is why Andrew wants to be your future butler. He wants in on that filthy richness! And can personally train his own successor."

Andrew had the grace to blush. The student practiced Standard Ironic Half-Smile in response.

"Oh, excellent! I thought you'd be a quick study. Andrew can explain my regular contract with my specials - room, board, extra classes in the school of life, in exchange for future favors that have nothing to do with my loins. It's good to have contacts in all walks of life, and if I ask you to do something illegal, illicit, or immoral, I'll personally tell you why I want you to break the normal laws of society."

"Like how my ex-fiancé and ex-best friend found themselves so conveniently caught red-handed so soon after I left, and in the papers to boot?"

"Oh, a very quick study! Indeed, I like you. I collect clever like other ladies collect calling cards. I assume you've read up on their exploits?"

"Including the forced wedding three days later, yes. Knowing both of them, they will make each other perfectly miserable. Mutual friends have already been either toadying up to me, or spurning my existence."

"And Andrew will help you navigate that thorny field. If he didn't have the dirt on all your classmates within forty-eight hours, and has already been gently suggesting whom to curry and whom to avoid, I shall be shocked. Now-" She was interrupted by a maid at the door, who quickly crossed and whispered in her ear. Herself's look of annoyance was replaced by.. blank. "This...is unexpected," she said slowly. "It appears you have a visitor." Her opaque look took in both student and Andrew. "Your fiancé's sister has fled her house and has begged an audience. I suggest you give it to her, if for no other reason than we can gather information. Promise nothing. We must investigate."

They set a scene. Whispered instructions, less fine clothing, and a filled whiskey tumbler he was ordered to sip very, very slowly. A smoking jacket, tastefully opened to the waist. Reclining on the bed, gently swirling the whiskey like he was told never to do -

It was all for naught, and it was a rare circumstance where he could use that phrase in his head. He somewhat remembered Audrey - slightly drab, especially when contrasted with her older sister, and especially when the family was very much invested in getting the older girl-child married, they weren't going to waste time and effort on the younger till it was advantageous. Seemed sweet in an abstracted way, if slightly baffled by all the verbal maneuvering that goes with the language of engagement contracts.

This Audrey, wild and unkempt and flyaway hair and mascara running and one shoe missing and he was rather sure no stockings underneath and no ribbons on that bodice and ripped dress - and much, much more.... developed than he remembered - flew across the room and threw herself on him, sobbing her heart out.

He had enough wherewithal to save the whiskey. Andrew popped in and out of hiding to rescue it; Audrey didn't even notice him. She was sobbing into his chest like she would never stop, and even Herself entering the room with an exasperated "Christ on a crutch, child, we're not going to toss you into the street, you can give up the death grip on the velvet, it wasn't crushed before you mauled it!" didn't make a dent. Well, it did indeed make a dent, a physical one.

So they did the next best thing: got her drunk anyway, like they'd planned earlier, but with no finesse or decorum. Debonair and tasteful joined them for a smoke on the back porch as the principals tucked her up in one of the second-floor fancy beds for the night - then decided to join her in her room, for as much information as possible. Herself only left for a moment or three to tell off a potential customer who wasn't taking his dismissal of an appointment lightly.

Morning was - blurry. Audrey didn't even notice the unusual sleeping arrangements, and ate a tidy breakfast only because she was too well brought up to fall on it like a starving wolf. But she had enough of a headache that she missed the grilling portion of the meal, where Herself pumped her for all the extra information she could, which was quite considerable. Andrew and his charge learned, just by staying silent and watching it happen:

Home life was unbearable, sister had picked him because she'd assumed he could be duped easily while she fornicated with whatever she pleased, Daddy was so livid with the new exposed situation that he'd put both slut and new son-in-law under house arrest with hand-picked prostitute servants with obvious cases of syphilis so the only male in the house wouldn't be tempted to stray, and darling daddy had decided that both female progeny were from the same evil root so he'd taken to whipping her as pre-punishment...

Andrew had to keep him in his seat at that moment, and Herself looked more displeased than he wanted to see while they were both in the same room. The house's doctor was called - the female one, they had one of each gender - and an examination occurred while they seethed on the other side of a privacy curtain. The house's lawyer was also summoned, and dark words like "emancipated female dependent" and "abuse of servants and other property" were uttered, to see if they would stick. The lawyer went off to stir up some rather public trouble, and Herself dusted her hands. "Any way we look at it, I'm taking her on, if for no other reason to get back at that piece of horse-merde masquerading as your former father-in-law. Whether or not you two choose to get married, remains to be seen. She's smitten with you now, but she's also under much stress. Let's see if a relationship develops, and if it's a personal or professional one. Let's get to know who she is as an individual, not a damsel we can pry out of distress. In the meantime, you have classes, and even more classes. And a rather hefty incentive, now, to succeed."

Indeed. And, now, also court hearings, to practice impassive listening in the back of the court room as Audrey had to tell her story for the judge, and jury, and prospective lawyers, and miscellaneous audience, including the hungry reporters who wanted to describe each indignity with lascivious detail. Disgusting, but Audrey didn't even seem to see them, she was so bent on telling the world what a repulsive creature her sperm donor was.

The exposure, even secondhand, got him some profesional attention. His attention to detail was spilling over into his accountancy, and potential clients were beginning to take notice. Andrew was pleased, and started to cultivate some of the new money in newer hands. If this continued, Andrew's charge could set up his shingle even before he graduated, and take these early prospectives on at a decent introductory rate.

And the other in-house classes were... interesting. Spying, and how to please both men and women, and how to be discreet, and how to get out of assignations if the appointment was for something other than checking the books. And refined table manners, and cognac conversations both deep and shallow, and how to play various card games - and how to cheat at them, and how to play them both well and horribly. And all the politics of such dealings, and even lessons on the players, both kings of the deck as it stood, and what young bucks were vying for the jacks.

And the queens, of course. Herself wan't the only house in town that could produce some of the most polished courtesans the continent could offer. Just the best, in his insider's opinion.

The trial went as expected, and even Audrey wasn't upset with the results. Her reputation was trashed, but she'd won the emancipation, and considered the trade a win. She took classes herself, looking fair to be one of those rare creatures who'd be a courtesan with real wit. She took wicked delight in showing up in her old social circles, usually on the arm of a minor prince or baron, and scandalizing her old "friends.”

Her father gave up trying to punish her for the public scandal after he tried to beat her publicly for the third time, and got both his legs broken in the process. Accidentally, of course. Along with his forearms. And lost maybe an eye, most definitely his ear. Audrey kept the ear framed in a rememberance box in her room as a macabre souvenir.

Andrew was as good as his word, and stuck with him past graduation for them to set up shop nearby, on Merchant's Row. Another house graduate moved in upstairs as a contract scribe, and a third took the garret as a rather natty tailor - when he wasn't being a cat burglar at Her request. As long as suspicion never fell on the shop or its occupants, no one asked questions. And no one seemed interested in robbing the place either. Coincidence, I'm sure.

He was invited back to the house for dinner often, and took most every opportunity he could. Andrew as well, because they knew the value of keeping appraised of the game and its players. And if an opportunity presented itself, to help pay back a bit of what they felt they owed, who'd call them out on it?

Besides, he was a rather phenomenal accountant, and Her books were amazing to calculate.