A/N: Happy New Year, everybody! A new year usually means new beginnings and as we all know canon sometimes throws us for a loop. This fic is mostly spoiler free, but please do read at your own risk. This will be an alternate universe fic, based on the 'Elsie Hughes Madam' tumblr.
Reviews are very much appreciated, so please don't hesitate!
"I loved her…" he says, his voice shaking and tears are running down his cheeks onto soft, creamy skin.
"Of course you did," she soothes, her fingers combing through his hair, her lips on his brow, pulling him a little closer. She is warm, she smells lovely of vanilla. Her hair is long, dark and wavy; a mahogany tinge in the light of the candles she's lit and the fire that is burning bright.
"I wanted to be with her, I wanted…" More tears follow, his throat feels tight, the words hurt as he speaks them.
"You wanted to marry her," her brogue is thick, her thighs are warm as he lies between them, holding on to her, her hand in his, trying to keep him grounded and steady.
"So much I could taste it," he confesses and he can't do anything then but sob.
She lets him, doesn't push him to perform - not that he is up to it anyway.
"She doesn't know what she's thrown away. You're a good man, a caring man. You'd... " she pauses to wipe away his tears from the valley between her breasts with a pristine handkerchief. "You'd have taken great care of her, looked after her. Loved her. Her choosing another is her loss, do not forget."
He tries to hold in the wail he can feel bubbling up, managing to keep it restrained to a strangled cry.
"It's been fifteen minutes…" she then whispers. "I'm afraid if you want more…"
He nods. He can afford her time and he doubts she'd cheat him. Of course he has little experience, but this one - he's not even asked her name; he simply chose her from a small line-up for her kind eyes and petite hands - he feels can be trusted.
He lays his head on the softness of her breast and lets her lull him into a feeling of safety and calm. It's worth the three shillings and thruppence*.
* In 1882 three shillings and thruppence (three-and-six) would be about $50 today and would buy you 15 minutes with a lady in a not-too-exclusive place. Yes. I cleaned my browser history after writing this chapter. And as always: Thank you so much, Dee, for being an awesome beta who never gives up on me and my quaint way of expressing myself!