The Price of Innocence (The Legacy Series) by Vicki Hopkins Read Free Book Online Page A

concerned expression on her face. Even she recognized that the prospects of finding work elsewhere were bleak. Suzette’s options were dwindling.
    “I suppose I can apply,” she said, with resignation.
    “It may be only temporary, Suzette, but it will at least provide you a place to sleep, work, and food for your tummy. We will only be able to keep you for another week, because there are others who desperately need our charity.”
    The announcement did not surprise Suzette. The benevolence of the order had done all they could for her. One door closed, and another appeared to be opening. Though Suzette thought bitterly of her choice, it was time to move on.
    * * *
     
    “Monsieur Brouchard,” Suzette called over the noise of the washroom. She tried to get the attention of a tall, thin, gangly-looking man with greasy, shoulder-length hair. When he heard Suzette’s voice, he swung around and looked disdainfully at her, sending a chill down her spine. Suzette was not pleased with the rude gawk.
    “Yes? What is it?” He voice barked at her like an angry dog.
    Taken aback by his abrupt response, Suzette hesitated a moment before speaking. “I am Suzette Rousseau. The Daughters of Charity said you are looking for workers,” she screamed at him, over the noisy washroom.
    His eyes squinted at her, as if he could barely see her standing a few feet away. Suzette raised her voice even louder.
    “I’m here to apply for a job!” Her whole body shook as her exclamation carried throughout the room. Everyone heard her announcement, as workers bent over steaming washbasins lifted their heads to look in their direction.
    He glared back at her and eyed her from top to bottom. “Very well then. Follow me.”
    He opened the door into a cluttered office and made his way to a small desk pushed up against a brick wall. His chair creaked when he sat down, and he growled his next request.
    “Close the door, damn it! I can’t hear a word over that cackling racket out there.”
    Suzette’s heart raced over his brazen demands, but she dutifully closed the door. She turned around and approached the front of his desk. No chairs were available. She nervously clutched her purse like it possessed some magical power to protect her in that terrifying moment.
    “So, you want a job as a laundress, do you?” He picked up a cigar, bit off the tip, and spit into a nearby trashcan filled to the brim with paper and rotting food. He lit the cigar with a match and blew a few puffs, while he continued to look at the size of her waist and breasts. His lingering gaze at her bosom caused Suzette to blush in embarrassment.
    “Frankly, after seeing your stature, I don’t think you can do the job.” He took rapid puffs on his cigar, and then blew the smoke into the air above his head. For the remainder of the conversation, the cigar dangled from between his lips.
    “It takes a strong woman to walk around the streets of Paris hauling baskets of clean laundry to our clients and dirty ones back to the washhouse. You need muscles! The baskets weigh twenty-five to thirty-five pounds apiece.” His eyes roved over her body once more before asking her bluntly, “Do you think you can handle that?”
    Suzette was unsure if she could, but desperation pushed a boldface lie from her lips. “Yes, Monsieur. I’ve carried heavy weight, though I am small. I’m sure I can handle anything.”
    “Frankly, I don’t know,” he mumbled, letting the doubt eat at her until he was satisfied she had suffered his indecision long enough. If her career as a wash woman failed, there were always other possibilities for her in the future.
    He examined Suzette, who looked like a little bird quivering in fear. Pretty and petite. Just the way I like ‘em . He imagined undressing her like a hungry wolf, and then decided to hire her just in case she came in handy for other purposes. Women would sell just about anything for food in their bellies.
    “If I provide you a cot to sleep