Lord Day and Lady Night

08. Pity and Pride

"Are you sure this is where you want to go?" Titus looked up doubtfully at the façade of the tidy, tiny little house in front of them.

"Does this 'Madame Lola' you told me about live here or not, Titus?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Well, then where is the problem? Let's go."

With long strides, Lord Patrick advanced towards the front door. His hand reached out for the bell—until he realized there wasn't one. So he just raised his fist and knocked twice.

For a long moment, there was nothing. Then, footsteps approached from the other side, and a suspicious voice asked, "Aye?"

"Madame Lola?"

"Who's askin'?"

"My name is Day. Lord Patrick Day."

"Sure it is, deary. And I'm Queen Shalala of Sheba."

"No, really, Ma'am. I'm—"

"Let me," Titus cut in and, leaning forward, told the suspicious eye: "We have money."

"Ye do?"

Titus held up a few crisp pound notes.

"Well, why didn't ye say so at once?" Patrick heard the sound of the latch being pulled back. "What do ye want?"

Lord Patrick stepped forward and cleared his throat. "I have a proposition for you."

The door opened, revealing the face of a woman. A roughly eighty-year-old woman, with a bent back, grey hair, and wrinkles covering her face.

"Ye do?" She smiled, revealing the gaps in her teeth. "Well, it's bin a while, but I'm sure I can remember a few old tricks."

Leaning forward, Titus grabbed His Lordship by the arm, apparently determined to save his friend's life. "Um...are you sure you don't want to visit Miss Bamby or Miss Cherry? They don't live too far from here, and they still have all their teeth and can walk without a walking sti—ow!"

The old woman's walking stick lashed out, whacking Titus across his knuckles.

"Just 'cause I'm old don't mean I'm deaf!" she told him. "Now, tell me what ye two want, or I'm gonna slam the door right in yer face." She studied Lord Patrick, raising a wrinkly eyebrow. "Mouth? Hands?" She gifted him another smile. His Lordship would never have thought that a smile with so few teeth could hint at so many scandalous acts. "Or...more dan dat?"

Lord Patrick stiffened, and his face flushed like a hundred water closets. "I assure you, Ma'am, it is not that kind of proposition!"

"Pity." Still grinning, she sighed and let her gaze travel up and down his figure. "Ye're a pretty fellow. Won't ye reconsider?"

If Lord Patrick Day had thought his cheeks couldn't turn any redder, he had been severely mistaken.

"Ehem...perhaps another time, Ma'am." Meaning when hell freezes over and Satan starts selling ice cream!

"If ye change yer mind, I'm available on weekends, love." Winking at him, the old woman waved for them to come in. "Well, if ye wanna talk, come on in. I've got a pot of tea on the stove."

Lord Patrick cleared his throat. "You're inviting us in, just like that? Aren't you afraid that—"

"—what? That ye'll steal my virtue?" The old lady cackled. "A bit too late for dat, love! And I ain't got much else to steal, either. Come on in!"