Page 50 of The Unseen (Echoes from the Past #5)

FORTY-ONE

London, England

Soft snow fell outside, the snowflakes twirling lazily against a pale winter sky. The London skyline was hazy, the pearly light of day slowly giving way to the dusky lavender of twilight.

Rhys leaned back in his chair and stared at Quinn, his eyes wide with disbelief. “He sold her virtue for twenty-five quid? Her own cousin? I’m not at all sure how our viewers will react to such a supposition, given that we have no physical proof it actually happened. It’s a rather sordid tale.”

“Do you really think Valentina was the first woman to be blackmailed into prostitution? And don’t think twenty-five quid is a paltry sum.

Today, that would be in the vicinity of one thousand pounds.

He didn’t sell her cheaply, if that’s what you’re implying.

Timothy Mayhew must have wanted her pretty badly to pay that kind of money, and I’m sure he wasn’t the only one.

Dmitri likely put feelers out to see who’d pay the highest price for Valentina’s virginity. ”

“That’s unspeakable,” Rhys muttered, shaking his head in dismay. “I know what you’re telling me is true, but I find it hard to believe that anyone could be that depraved.”

“He wouldn’t be the first or the last to make a profit off a girl’s virginity. The practice is old and widespread. Have you ever heard of Mizuage?”

“And what’s that, when it’s at home?”

“It was a practice of selling a geisha’s virginity to a patron, for a very sizeable sum.

They called it a rite of passage, when in fact it was nothing more than a way to make a profit.

Mizuage was outlawed as recently as 1959.

And of course, many bawdy houses in Victorian England made a big production of auctioning off the virginity of their youngest girls.

The madams would parade the new girl before their patrons, whetting their appetites, then ask them to submit written bids.

The highest bidder got the girl, and the house got a healthy infusion of coin. ”

“I’ve heard of these things, of course, but I never realized how barbaric and demeaning these acts were. I suppose everything takes on a new meaning when you have a daughter of your own.”

“Are you having a girl?” Quinn asked, smiling at Rhys’s sheepish expression. He obviously hadn’t meant to give the secret away, but now that he had, he was beaming with paternal pride.

“I saw her on the scan. Oh, Quinn, she’s perfect. She looks just like Haley.”

“Have you got a name picked out?”

Rhys chuckled. “If Haley has her way, she’ll name her something outlandish, like Heavenly Starlight, or Rainbow Twinkle Posey. I think Ambrosia is also in the running.”

“And what’s your preference?”

“I’m partial to Sophie Elizabeth,” Rhys admitted shyly. “Sophie means wisdom in Greek, and I have great admiration for Elizabeth I and II. Inspiring women: courageous, intelligent, and selfless.”

“Perhaps you’ll prevail.”

“I highly doubt it. Haley is so hormonally volatile just now, I’ll agree to anything to keep her from bursting into tears.”

“How is she feeling otherwise?”

“She’s well. She’s actually extremely disciplined,” Rhys replied.

“She does antenatal yoga every morning. She’s joined a walking group for expectant mums, and she watches her diet religiously.

All baking ingredients have been consigned to the rubbish bin and I’m not allowed to even think about anything that might be high in carbohydrates and sugar.

There are certain words I’m not allowed to utter. ”

“Such as?”

“Butter, for one.”

“Surely, in moderation, butter is good for the baby.”

“She prefers healthful fats, like olive oil and avocado. Butter is the devil.”

Quinn studied Rhys’s blissed-out expression and smiled. “I’m glad to see you happy, Rhys. You’ll make a wonderful dad. When is the baby actually due?”

“Mid-April. I can’t wait. I suggested we start decorating the nursery, but Haley seems reluctant.”

“Maybe she’s superstitious. Some women are. They think naming the baby before it’s born or preparing a nursery will somehow anger the gods.”

“I haven’t noticed that Haley is particularly superstitious, but she performs evasive maneuvers every time I try to discuss the future with her. She’s been awfully skittish lately, so I try not to upset her.”

“Could it be that she doubts your commitment?” Quinn asked. Rhys was not known for having a good relationship track record, and at nearly fifty, had never been married.

“I’ve assured her time and again that I’m not going anywhere. I’d marry her tomorrow if she didn’t mind getting hitched while pregnant. But Haley is an actress, and she wants to look her best on her wedding day.”

Quinn grinned, reminding Rhys that she had, in fact, got married while pregnant.

She’d wanted to marry Gabe so desperately she hadn’t cared if she were in labor during the ceremony.

She simply couldn’t bear to wait any longer, especially after what had happened in New Orleans.

Looking svelte in her wedding photos had been the least of her concerns, and she was happy she hadn’t insisted on waiting.

She and Gabe had shared a warm and loving relationship before they got married, but making things official had actually made their commitment stronger, and their love for each other had grown and matured.

She hoped the same would be true for Haley and Rhys.

“There’s no longer a stigma about being unmarried and pregnant. I suppose I can understand her desire to wait. Just be patient with her.”

“I am. I won’t be dragging her to church to stand up in front of a priest. This is the twenty-first century, after all.

Whenever she is ready. You know,” Rhys mused, “if we were having this conversation a few hundred years ago, we might have decided to betroth our children. Of course, I’d need Gabe’s approval for the scheme.

Your opinion would be completely irrelevant. ”

“Gabe wouldn’t agree to an engagement at this time, but he might be open to a play date, perhaps in 2016. I have to get going. My opinion might be irrelevant, but my breasts aren’t. Alex is due for a feeding soon.”

“I’m trying to talk Haley into nursing. She’s not in favor,” Rhys confessed. “She can’t wait to get her body back.”

“I know how she feels.”

“Quinn, I’d like to do a formal interview with Valentina’s daughter, Natalia. Perhaps she can tell us something of Valentina’s early years in England. She might know all about Dmitri’s dealings with her, so her account would lend legitimacy to the program.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“I’ll get it on the calendar and get back to you. And, Quinn, I’d like to get this wrapped up before Christmas.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will. Cheers.”