Death of a Duchess, Nellie Steele [non fiction books to read .txt] 📗

it to exhibit some charm. However, as I approached closer and closer to the address, the buildings became more and more dilapidated. Rough characters lurked in dark corners. I began to fear I had made a grave error in judgement.

However, I steeled my nerves and approached the address. I knocked at the door and was met by a scantily dressed woman. Surely I must have the wrong address, I reflected, though I asked for Tilly, anyway. Shock coursed through me as the woman invited me in and disappeared up the stairs to fetch Tilly.

As I waited in the building’s foyer, I glanced into the rooms visible from the entryway. Couches and chaise lounges in loud colors and the like were scattered around the rooms. Gauzy draperies hung at various angles. A piano sat in the middle of the largest room.

My mind tried to process what I was witnessing, but before it could, Tilly rushed down the stairs. “Lenora!?” she exclaimed.

“Tilly!” I greeted her, surprised I had the address correct.

“Lenora,” she said, hurrying down the rest of the steps. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to visit. The orphanage does not expect me back for a bit. I wanted to see how you were getting on.” I gazed at her, noting several changes. Her long flaxen hair, always a source of pride and which she kept carefully groomed while at the orphanage, hung in tangles. Her plump cheeks with their rosy countenance were sunken and colorless. Her sparkling blue eyes had lost their sparkle. Her dress, tattered now, hung loosely on her frame.

Tilly glanced around before suggesting we step outside to speak. She ushered me out the door and down the street a few steps. “Tilly,” I queried as she tugged me further from the building, “whatever are you doing?”

“You shouldn’t have come, Lenora,” Tilly stated as we came to a stop near the corner.

“Why, Tilly?” Tilly glanced around, avoiding my eyes. “Tilly?”

She met my gaze. “Oh, Lenora, I cannot explain. I am quite embarrassed. It is why I was not truthful in my letter to you, though that must be obvious to you now.”

“Tilly, are you in some sort of trouble?”

Tilly let out a long sigh, her shoulders sinking and a tear falling to her cheek. She wiped it away. “Tilly? What is it?”

“Oh, Lenora,” she cried.

I put my arms around her. “Tilly, you need not share any details with me. Come home where you are safe and cared for.”

“I cannot.” Tilly sobbed in my arms. She righted herself, pulling away and drying her eyes. “That place is not a home, Lenora.”

“It is,” I insisted. “It is OUR home.”

Tilly shook her head. “No, it is no home. And they wouldn’t take me back. Not now.”

“I am sure they would. Please, Tilly, you are miserable.”

Tilly sniffled, swallowing hard. “I am not miserable. Forgive my outburst. It is not as bad as it may have seemed moments ago.”

“What is ‘it,’ Tilly?” I inquired.

“Oh, Lenora,” Tilly replied, with a roll of her eyes, “you must have deduced already.”

My mind whirled at her words. I considered the information in front of me. My brow furrowed as I pieced the puzzle together. “Tilly!” I exclaimed in disbelief. “No!”

“Yes,” Tilly admitted with a sheepish grin. “Yes, Lenora, I am a prostitute.”

I shook my head, more in disbelief than in judgement. “Oh, Tilly…” I began.

Tilly held up her hand. “So, you see, I would no longer be welcome at Saint Mary’s.”

“No one must know, Tilly. I would never tell! Please, come home, this is no life!”

“You were always a good friend, Lenora,” Tilly responded. “But I cannot.”

“Why? What holds you here?”

Tilly offered a slight smile. “Love.”

“Love?” I cried. “Tilly, I believe you may be mistaking lust for love.”

Tilly shook her head. “No, Lenora, no. Not everything in my letter to you was a lie. I have met someone. He is keen on me and I am keen on him.”

“Has he made a promise?”

Tilly gazed to the sky as she shrugged. “Not in so many words,” she began. I opened my mouth to reply, raising my eyebrows, but she interrupted. “Oh, he will, Lenora, he will! You do not know him as I do.” I imagined not. “He is not like the others. He is kind, caring, sweet and tender.”

My heart broke for Tilly in that moment. She desperately clung to the hope that her supposed sweetheart would rescue her from her current situation. I imagined the likelihood of this to be slim. Though Tilly, always the dreamer, did not agree. I wouldn’t ruin the illusion for her. Perhaps she required the fantasy, desired to clutch at this fairytale to endure her new life.

I nodded, pasting on a smile and hoping she could not glean it was disingenuous. “I am glad you have found him, Tilly. And I hope he offers soon. Will you keep in touch? Make me aware of where I can find you should you move?”

Tilly smiled at me. “Of course, Lenora!” She flung her arms around my neck. “Oh, I hope it is soon! I cannot imagine it will be long with the words he speaks to me.”

I grasped her hands as she released me. “I hope it to be true. Please take care, Tilly.”

“I will,” she answered. “And you, Lenora. I wish you the best. I hope you will find happiness as I have.”

With a smile and a nod, I stepped away, leaving Tilly on that street corner. I held back a tear as I continued down the street. My beautiful and vivacious friend reduced to this. My mind refused to fill in the word describing her new profession. I refused to glance back as I continued to put one foot in front of the other. I prayed as I journeyed back to the orphanage that Tilly’s narrative was not fiction but truth and that she soon would be removed from the situation she found herself in.

Chapter 5

Another mile passed by the carriage window as I contemplated what I may find