It is Wednesday night, 11:41pm.
Matilda cautiously enters the room. Again, she's wrapped up in her scarf and has the hood of her cloak pulled up. However, anyone who ever sees the girl out and about would recognize that colourful scarf with ease. She may -think- that she's disguising herself, but she isn't.
Matilda Tempeste Moreau has surpassed that coltish stage between girl and woman to blossom into a young beauty. Long, thick, light brown hair is carefully caught back in a long braid that is coiled about the back of her head. The girl's oval face is as mercurial as her personality. Naturally arched eyebrows seem to give her a perpetual expression of faint surprise. Her grey eyes can be as dewy as an April morning, as stormy as a July thundershower, or as chill as a November sky. Sunlight has tanned the slightly upturned tip of her slender nose as well as her slanted cheekbones. Above her decidedly stubborn chin is the full mouth used to express her honeyed voice.
Soft yellow calico patterned with small blue flowers has been formed into a simple dress. It has no adornment except for the row of bone buttons up the back of the bodice and on the cuffs of the sleeves. Its round neckline has been dressed up with a tatted lace collar. The lines of the garment are carefully tailored to the female beneath it, emphasizing the natural narrowness of her waist in contrast to the curves of her chest and her hips. The skirt is loose over a simple muslin petticoat that hides her worn, brown shoes. A hooded cloak cut from green wool, dark mittens, and a colorfully knit scarf keep her warm.
Miss Gem is ... doing something, no doubt. And looks up with a smile as the door opens, and doesn't quite let the smile turn into a laugh. "Matilda. Come in, my dear." Very sneaky. "Have I mentioned how much I like that scarf?"
Matilda pushes back her hood and unwraps the scarf from her face to reveal her smile. "Oui?" she asks as she sheds her outerwear. "I could make one for you, if you like," she offers. "I gave many of them for Noel. Scarves and mittens. It is good to be warm, oui?" The girl grins as she folds her cloak over her arm. "If I come at a bad time, I could go?"
Gem's eyes brighten. "That would be delightful. Maybe one in all sorts of blues. I can buy you the yarn, if you need. No, no, come in, it's never a bad time to visit me." She plunks down on her bed in a fluff of skirts and pats the mattress next to her. "Come, sit down. How are you? Happier than the last time I saw you," she observes.
Matilda puts down her things, but quickly joins Gem on the bed with a similar plunk. She's blushing rather hotly. "I do not know why I am so happy," she says. "I have been in a very good mood. Even Monsieur Tucker has said so."
Not going to laugh! Not going to laugh! Gem's eyes do sparkle, though. Cheerfully: "Have you been doing your homework?"
The renewed flood of crimson in her cheeks gives her answer even before Matilda slowly nods. "Oui," she admits as she folds her hands into her lap. There's a slight hesitation before she sheepishly adds, "Most every night."
Miss Gem, without laughing one bit at all, says, "Maybe that has something to do with your good mood. And how goes the bakery?"
The young woman brightens further at the mention of the bakery. "Oh, it goes very well! I hope to be settled soon. I think there is a building that I may use that is already built. At Monsieur Tucker's, I have been creating new things to sell. I will be open from six o'clock in the morning until three o'clock in the afternoon, but I will be closed on Sundays."
Miss Gem actually claps her hands in pleasure. "Wonderful! Six in the morning, good heavens. With fresh-baked goods in the morning? Won't you have to get up at three?"
Matilda's mouth purses. "I do not yet know. I think four-thirty might be early enough, but we shall see, hmm? It depends upon how many early customers I will usually have." Shifting upon the bed, Matilda clears her throat. "I have been thinking of other new beginnings as well," she says. "There is something else that I would like to do."
"Four-thirty sounds quite early enough." Big eyes. Gem Trotters has big eyes, full of amusement. "Perhaps I'll drop by to see you from time to time before I go to bed." Up go her eyebrows. "What else would you like to do?"
Matilda clears her throat and announces, "I should like to lose my virginity."
Miss Gem's eyebrows shoot higher. "You would, hm?"
There is a certain solemnity to Matilda's features as she nods her head. "Oui, I would. It is time, I think, for me to know what it is like to be a woman. Sean almost showed me, but then he wished to wait until we were married. He said that what we did was not bad because of his intentions toward me, but... now he has ended our courtship. I have sinned and I wish to sin some more."
Gem's eyebrows may have taken up permenant residence up there near her hairline. "Your courtship with O'Dwyer has ended?"
Matilda looks toward her lap and gives a sad little nod. "It has. He is mad with me because of the bakery. He thinks that I chose it over him because I wished to wait a bit before we were married to get the bakery started." She expressively shrugs, trying to act as though losing yet another person close to her doesn't hurt.
Gem sighs, and reaches out to put her hand over yours briefly. "I'm sorry, Matilda. I think..." She hesitates. "I think you're young to be married. Perhaps Sean will come to see sense, in time."
The young woman gives another small nod. She falls silent for a few heartbeats, drawing in a breath that is released as a short sigh. "If I am young to be married, do you also think that I am young to become a woman? I wish very much to do this thing. That is why I have come to you. Who should I ask to do it?"
"Miguel Mendez," Gem says promptly, "but stay out of the way of that wife of his. I was about your age the first time I went to bed with a man." She hesitates, then shakes her head. "But I had no choice but whoring, then. Reputation can't be bought back, Matilda. It isn't a decision to make lightly." Another hesitation, and then perhaps a trifle wistfully: "And it's one better made with someone you love, I think, than mercenarily."
Matilda clasps her hands together and looks to them worriedly. "No one will know, oui? Or do you think that they ..." Trailing off the girl sighs and lifts her hands to her face. "It cannot be the man that I love," she sadly moans. "Not him. He would not even kiss me."
Miss Gem squints a little. "Forgive me, Matilda, for sounding like an old woman and harping on a thing probably a dozen people have told you, but you'll probably love again. Even I've fallen in love more than once, and that's a dangerous thing in my profession."
Matilda lowers her fingers a little to peer at Gem. "Oui? I cannot imagine knowing another man like him. He is very special," she says in quiet affirmation. "Monsieur Garrett is wise, educated, charming and fun. I have never met another man like him."
Pause. "You've fallen in love with /Garrett/?"
Matilda looks away and to the floor, pressing her fingers over her heart. With only a moment of wistful hesitation, she nods in solemn acknowledgement.
Miss Gem holds up two fingers. "Two things. One." She touches the tip of one finger. "I certainly can't fault your taste. Michael Garrett is a stunningly attractive man. Two." She touches the tip of the other finger. "/I/ can't get Garrett to sleep with me, Matilda. Don't fault yourself for failing there. Three," she decides, and holds up another finger. "You might not ever meet anybody like him again. That doesn't mean you won't fall in love with someone else. The men I've loved are as different from each other as night from day, my dear. Bah. Don't throw away your virginity on some ranchhand, Matilda. Sex is wonderful, but it's worth waiting for, too." Who'da thunk, Gem Trotters on the joys of abstinence.
Matilda exhales and her shoulders slump. "Monsieur Garrett is the man that I like to dream about," she murmurs. "He is my handsome prince, but... I have missed Sean, since he parted from me. I-I am fond of him, even if I do not love him like in the fairy tales. Are... are you sure that it would not be easier with a man I did not love?"
Miss Gem purses her lips. Clearly she needs to go talk to this Sean O'Dwyer fellow. Then her mouth softens, and she touches your shoulder. "I know better than most what the price of a body is, Matilda. I know the difference between being with a man for love and being with a man for money. Love is better. Love is ... worth waiting for." The whore smiles a little. "Take that as gospel from one who didn't have the chance to choose it."
Matilda moistens her lips and rubs them together. "Very well," she capitulates with a disappointed sigh. "I will remember what you have said." She will also remember the name Miguel. If nothing else, she might seek him out just to see what he looks like.
You'll be disappointed. Miguel's had his ass kicked up and down Maddock's streets so many times it can't be counted, and it's left scars. "If you decide you absolutely *can't* wait," Gem says dryly, "come see me first. The only thing worse than sleeping with the wrong man is getting pregnant by him."
Matilda nods very quickly and very gravely to -that- assessment, grey eyes widening. "Oui, I will do so, Mademoiselle. I suppose that I should go back to Monsieur Tucker's house now. It grows late and I have not been out so much since I no longer have reason to walk out and visit Monsieur O'Dwyer."
Miss Gem stands up, smiling. "I'll walk down with you -- unless that would be too indiscrete."
Matilda gathers her cloak and scarf, quickly shaking her head. "I would not mind. You have invested in my bakery and I am not ashamed of that. You believe in me and I will not deny you in public."
Miss Gem smiles, sudden bright smile. "Thank you, my dear. Thank you very much." She'll even hold the door for you.