her with a look borrowed from his patrician grandfather in his later years and held out his hand.
Grumbling, the woman turned away. They stood in silence until she returned with the key. Then Arthur closed the door in her face and locked it. “I didn’t want to discover later that they’d locked us in,” he said quietly to Señora Alvarez.
“This is a bawdy house, isn’t it?” she replied.
He nodded. “A very private one, apparently.”
“Because here men can do whatever they like to women, and no one comes to inquire. Or cares.”
“Seemingly.”
She spat out a word Arthur had never heard from a lady. Her dark eyes glittered with fury, and he thought that she had a hand on the pistol in her pocket. He couldn’t blame her. “We will wait a few minutes to let that creature go about her business and then search for the dancers,” he said.
“I fear what we will find.”
He could only agree with her.
They waited in silence. There was nothing to say; they were here to act. “That should be sufficient,” Arthur said. “Will you stay here and lock the door behind me?”
“No!” Señora Alvarez gave him an impatient look. “The girls know me. They will be afraid of any man in this place. Why would they come with you?”
“Ah.” He had been thinking of keeping her safe. Which was not possible. “Of course.” He unlocked the door and looked into the corridor. It was empty.
They stepped out. Arthur relocked the door. “You don’t think she has another key?” asked the señora.
“She may. We can only trust that she meant what she said about not returning until summoned.”
“You would trust such a person?”
He shrugged. “We had best hurry.”
There were several other bedchambers like the one they had been given along the hall that ran through the center of the house. They were all empty, for which Arthur gave silent thanks. The place was eerily quiet. He was used to a household where people bustled about completing various tasks at this time of day.
They took the stairs up to the next floor. The corridor was narrower here, and the rooms smaller. Servants’ quarters, Arthur thought. A glance into the first two chambers confirmed this. They were much more plainly furnished than those below.
The next door was locked, as were the five following. They heard weeping from behind the last, which stopped abruptly when Arthur tried the doorknob. He pictured a girl cowering behind the panels, praying that they did not open. He couldn’t remember when he’d been so angry.
Señora Alvarez knelt and put her lips to the keyhole of the last door. “Odile?” she murmured. “Sonia? Maria? Jeanne? Êtes-vous là?”
“Qui est-ce?” came the reply.
“Shh. Parlez trés doucement.”
There was a stir beyond the door. Someone inside came closer. The señora conversed with her very quietly in French.
As she did, Arthur tried the key he had in one of the locks. It didn’t work. He hadn’t really thought it would.
After a bit, the señora came to stand beside him. “All of the dancers are here,” she murmured. “As well as two other girls. They have had little chance to speak to each other. These…monsters keep them alone and afraid. Some of them are hurt as well.”
Arthur’s fury was mirrored in her dark eyes. “Breaking down the doors would bring them down on us,” he said. “We must find the keys.”
“They bring food two times each day,” she replied. “We could wait and take the keys from that person.”
“That could be hours. I don’t want to spend so much time here. And it could be more than one person.”
“We must do something!”
“I have an idea,” Arthur said.
“What?”
“It is an unpleasant one,” he added.
“Nothing could be worse than this!” She gestured at their surroundings.
“I could ring, from the room we were given, and ask for another girl. To…join us. I could insist upon choosing her myself.”
The señora grimaced. “I suppose they would do that.”
“Particularly if I offer more money.”
“And then we overpower the woman and take her keys.”
He nodded.
“Very well.” Before they left, she whispered at all the locked doorways, addressing each dancer in her native language. The two strangers were English, wary but wild for escape.
When Arthur unlocked the door on the floor below, they found the bedchamber as they had left it. “We must set the scene,” he said.
“And be certain of our plan,” she replied.
A few minutes later, Arthur pulled the bell rope. When the “hostess” arrived in response he made his request, with another payment ready to