Portsmouth, 1802
Honor (n): 2. Good Reputation
"Another bitterly cold night." Someone observed, stepping from the warmth of the Long Rooms to the street. Horatio nodded, shivering, breath coming from his mouth in whisps of smoke. He wished now he hadn't sold his coat. If he wasn't careful, he could end up coming down with something, which would cost him money, one way or another. He glanced down at his takings from the night: half a crown. He shook his head. It wasn't worth it to buy a drink, not tonight. He should save it to buy a new coat, or maybe to pay the rent. Mrs. Mason was getting restless, waiting for payment. Raising his head slightly to look at the cloudless sky, Horatio heard a woman calling out.
"How about it, gents? Only five shillings, and you can escape the cold! I'll give you a warm room, something to eat, and anything else you desire!"
Horatio shook his head. You'd think that whores would leave off peddling themselves on nights like this, he mused, It's too damn cold to stand about like they do. The woman called again.
"Five shillings, gentlemen, that's all I ask. I offer this special price for out-of-work sailors! I know how hard your life can be, on and off land!"
Horatio glanced down the street. He would have to pass the woman on his way to his lodgings. She'd probably take one look at him and turn away. Most of those women never bothered to give him a second glance. Not, of course, that he wanted them to. Why men waste precious coins just for a night of passion is beyond me. he thought.
As he drew level with the girl, he glanced at her casually. If this girl works for a brothel, they really are desperate. he decided. She was almost as pale as the snow around her, and looked as though a sudden gust of wind would blow her away. Her dark eyes stood out starkly from her white face, while ebony hair hung down her back in an odd arrangement. When her eyes fell upon him, those eyes widened, enough for Horatio to see their violet hue. "It can't be." she whispered, "They didn't dismiss you. They couldn't have!"
With a start of recognition, Horatio took in the girl again. "Samantha?"
She nodded. "I never dreamed we would meet again. Well, at least not like this."
Horatio couldn't understand it. She had cried when she had told him of what the senior officers had been doing to her at night, but now she was willingly selling herself. She held out her hand, which was trembling. "I guess we'll stick to a handshake this time."
"No." he answered, digging in his pockets and producing five shillings, "I want to know what you're doing here." he placed them in her hand and closed her long fingers over the coins, "I promise I won't touch you." He looked at the red painted fingernails for a moment, then she pulled her hand away. "Thank you kindly." she said, leading the way inside the shabby brothel.
Once inside, Samantha bade Horatio sit upon the bed, while she undid her hair and began to brush it. "I know you must be wondering about me." she said quietly.
"I thought I knew you, Sam." Horatio said, reflexively calling her by her nickname, "I thought you detested being violated like this."
He heard her voice quaver. "I do. Every night that I have a client, I shudder inside with loathing. I don't belong here."
"Then why dishonor yourself and your family?" Horatio demanded.
"Because my Father bids me dishonor myself." She answered, a bite in her voice. Horatio blinked. "Your father..."
"When I came back to him and told him why I had left, he was angry at first, but then decided that it might be the best way to gain money for our household. So he looked for somewhere that would take me in as a..." she broke off and turned to look at him, eyes brimming with tears, "You can't imagine what I've been put through because of that decision. Night after night, men come to me, all wanting one thing. And I have to give it to them. What I have to suffer, just for five damn shillings a night!"
"But surely you can use that money, or at least some of it, to pay your way out."
She laughed, a harsh and hysterical cackle. "Sure! It costs three pounds for freedom here. I couldn't even make a pound a year here, even if I took customers by day!" She stood up and looked at him, fires blazing in her wine-colored eyes. "And it's not like I get to see the money for more than a day. I have to give all my wages to my father! He thinks that I don't need anything more than room and board, which I have here!"
Horatio's hand instinctively touched her hand. She looked at him. "Surely he'll stop once he finds a job himself. Napoleon's stirring things up. There's bound to be a war. He can find work then."
"Not my father." she answered, "He's made his way in the world by depending on others. First it was his parents, then his brother, then my mother, and now his daughter!"
"But surely he won't keep you here forever."
"As long as I can keep men happy, he won't let me stop. All he wants is to live like a gentleman, with a carriage and a manor. But it will never happen, and until it does, I shall never be free." She wiped away the tears that were beginning to fall from her eyes. "So I might as well become used to it." She glanced at the night outside. "Perhaps you should go. But I'll give you something to eat."
Horatio had been sitting, numb, after hearing her story. Now he looked at her. When she turned her head, he could see traces of the woman he had befriended nine years ago. Then he thought of Mrs. Mason, and her displeasure if he didn't return to his room that night. But he pushed her from his mind. "I'll stay here, Sam. You need a friend by your side."
She stared at him, her breath quickening. Then she fell into his arms, sobbing. "That's exactly what I need."
He sat her on the bed next to him and stroked her hair back from her face. Her raven tresses now felt coarse to the touch. Digging in his pocket, he produced another five shillings. He knew he would regret it, but Samantha needed it more. He gave her the money. "Keep what I gave you before. Try to earn those three pounds."
She looked at him, then at the money, and cried all the harder. "Even after I have repaid you, I shall forever be in your debt."
"No, Samantha." He whispered, "I'm merely repaying my debt to you. I didn't know how I could thank you when you helped me when I first joined the navy, until now."
"That was 'Old Sam.'" She answered, laying upon the bed and closing her eyes. "The new Sam has no place for a man who merely intrudes upon my father's wishes, or so he says."
Horatio slid off the bed. "Old Sam or New Sam, I don't want to see you suffer." He looked around. "I'll stay on the floor. Do you have a spare blanket, or..."
He looked behind him to see Samantha throw the covers of the bed open. "Please!" She begged, "Share my space. It was meant for two, anyway." When Horatio turned red, she glared at him. "You said you wouldn't touch me. I'm not asking you to. You said you'd stay, and no guest of mine sleeps on the floor. Anyway, it looks suspicious."
Horatio hesitated, then climbed in besides her. She put her arms around him and cried into his thin jacket. He smiled sadly and slid his hand down her back. "Sleep, my friend. It might be the only undisturbed rest you get in a long time."
When Horatio awoke the next morning, Samantha was gone.
"Another bitterly cold night." Someone observed, stepping from the warmth of the Long Rooms to the street. Horatio nodded, shivering, breath coming from his mouth in whisps of smoke. He wished now he hadn't sold his coat. If he wasn't careful, he could end up coming down with something, which would cost him money, one way or another. He glanced down at his takings from the night: half a crown. He shook his head. It wasn't worth it to buy a drink, not tonight. He should save it to buy a new coat, or maybe to pay the rent. Mrs. Mason was getting restless, waiting for payment. Raising his head slightly to look at the cloudless sky, Horatio heard a woman calling out.
"How about it, gents? Only five shillings, and you can escape the cold! I'll give you a warm room, something to eat, and anything else you desire!"
Horatio shook his head. You'd think that whores would leave off peddling themselves on nights like this, he mused, It's too damn cold to stand about like they do. The woman called again.
"Five shillings, gentlemen, that's all I ask. I offer this special price for out-of-work sailors! I know how hard your life can be, on and off land!"
Horatio glanced down the street. He would have to pass the woman on his way to his lodgings. She'd probably take one look at him and turn away. Most of those women never bothered to give him a second glance. Not, of course, that he wanted them to. Why men waste precious coins just for a night of passion is beyond me. he thought.
As he drew level with the girl, he glanced at her casually. If this girl works for a brothel, they really are desperate. he decided. She was almost as pale as the snow around her, and looked as though a sudden gust of wind would blow her away. Her dark eyes stood out starkly from her white face, while ebony hair hung down her back in an odd arrangement. When her eyes fell upon him, those eyes widened, enough for Horatio to see their violet hue. "It can't be." she whispered, "They didn't dismiss you. They couldn't have!"
With a start of recognition, Horatio took in the girl again. "Samantha?"
She nodded. "I never dreamed we would meet again. Well, at least not like this."
Horatio couldn't understand it. She had cried when she had told him of what the senior officers had been doing to her at night, but now she was willingly selling herself. She held out her hand, which was trembling. "I guess we'll stick to a handshake this time."
"No." he answered, digging in his pockets and producing five shillings, "I want to know what you're doing here." he placed them in her hand and closed her long fingers over the coins, "I promise I won't touch you." He looked at the red painted fingernails for a moment, then she pulled her hand away. "Thank you kindly." she said, leading the way inside the shabby brothel.
Once inside, Samantha bade Horatio sit upon the bed, while she undid her hair and began to brush it. "I know you must be wondering about me." she said quietly.
"I thought I knew you, Sam." Horatio said, reflexively calling her by her nickname, "I thought you detested being violated like this."
He heard her voice quaver. "I do. Every night that I have a client, I shudder inside with loathing. I don't belong here."
"Then why dishonor yourself and your family?" Horatio demanded.
"Because my Father bids me dishonor myself." She answered, a bite in her voice. Horatio blinked. "Your father..."
"When I came back to him and told him why I had left, he was angry at first, but then decided that it might be the best way to gain money for our household. So he looked for somewhere that would take me in as a..." she broke off and turned to look at him, eyes brimming with tears, "You can't imagine what I've been put through because of that decision. Night after night, men come to me, all wanting one thing. And I have to give it to them. What I have to suffer, just for five damn shillings a night!"
"But surely you can use that money, or at least some of it, to pay your way out."
She laughed, a harsh and hysterical cackle. "Sure! It costs three pounds for freedom here. I couldn't even make a pound a year here, even if I took customers by day!" She stood up and looked at him, fires blazing in her wine-colored eyes. "And it's not like I get to see the money for more than a day. I have to give all my wages to my father! He thinks that I don't need anything more than room and board, which I have here!"
Horatio's hand instinctively touched her hand. She looked at him. "Surely he'll stop once he finds a job himself. Napoleon's stirring things up. There's bound to be a war. He can find work then."
"Not my father." she answered, "He's made his way in the world by depending on others. First it was his parents, then his brother, then my mother, and now his daughter!"
"But surely he won't keep you here forever."
"As long as I can keep men happy, he won't let me stop. All he wants is to live like a gentleman, with a carriage and a manor. But it will never happen, and until it does, I shall never be free." She wiped away the tears that were beginning to fall from her eyes. "So I might as well become used to it." She glanced at the night outside. "Perhaps you should go. But I'll give you something to eat."
Horatio had been sitting, numb, after hearing her story. Now he looked at her. When she turned her head, he could see traces of the woman he had befriended nine years ago. Then he thought of Mrs. Mason, and her displeasure if he didn't return to his room that night. But he pushed her from his mind. "I'll stay here, Sam. You need a friend by your side."
She stared at him, her breath quickening. Then she fell into his arms, sobbing. "That's exactly what I need."
He sat her on the bed next to him and stroked her hair back from her face. Her raven tresses now felt coarse to the touch. Digging in his pocket, he produced another five shillings. He knew he would regret it, but Samantha needed it more. He gave her the money. "Keep what I gave you before. Try to earn those three pounds."
She looked at him, then at the money, and cried all the harder. "Even after I have repaid you, I shall forever be in your debt."
"No, Samantha." He whispered, "I'm merely repaying my debt to you. I didn't know how I could thank you when you helped me when I first joined the navy, until now."
"That was 'Old Sam.'" She answered, laying upon the bed and closing her eyes. "The new Sam has no place for a man who merely intrudes upon my father's wishes, or so he says."
Horatio slid off the bed. "Old Sam or New Sam, I don't want to see you suffer." He looked around. "I'll stay on the floor. Do you have a spare blanket, or..."
He looked behind him to see Samantha throw the covers of the bed open. "Please!" She begged, "Share my space. It was meant for two, anyway." When Horatio turned red, she glared at him. "You said you wouldn't touch me. I'm not asking you to. You said you'd stay, and no guest of mine sleeps on the floor. Anyway, it looks suspicious."
Horatio hesitated, then climbed in besides her. She put her arms around him and cried into his thin jacket. He smiled sadly and slid his hand down her back. "Sleep, my friend. It might be the only undisturbed rest you get in a long time."
When Horatio awoke the next morning, Samantha was gone.