Gabriella sat on the couch, her hair perfectly coiffed, her cheeks and even her lips rouged. She'd caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and had hardly recognized herself. The lady's maid had even put a smudge of kohl around her eyes, and truthfully Gabriella had been so transfixed at the sight of herself that for a moment she had forgotten the horror of the auction. Now, sitting down without a strange face to admire, her mind was completely stuck on it. Her virginity. Had Madame become so desperate, or was she just being cruel? No wonder she hadn't told Gabriella where they were headed.
The other girls sat by, seeming as dumbstruck as she. Had they known before they arrived? And how could such practices still exist in a civilized country? It was no use in pretending that she was not a virgin; Madame knew that she had not been out of the manor in years, and aside from the ancient coachman who tended the horses, male visitors were few and far between.
She considered trying to escape. If ever there was a time to run away, it was now. The woman at the door seemed to stand guard, and Gabriella felt certain that if she dared make a break for it, an alarm would be raised, and she would be brought back immediately, and perhaps beaten for the attempt. So not now, she decided. She would wait until a better opportunity presented itself to make her escape, but she
would
attempt to make one. She'd been a loyal servant to Madame and her two daughters, but this was asking too much.
She felt a sense of betrayal at Madame's actions. For years she'd toiled, worked as hard as any servant or slave, and received not a word of thanks. Forced to serve the ersatz mistress of the manor, when by rights it should have been hers, and now this. Madame would give her virginity to the highest bidder, without so much as a by-her-leave. She had very few possessions now, and though she did not often have daydreams of the romantic nature, she'd assumed that her virtue would be given to someone she loved, if not a husband.
Now, that choice was being taken from her, Gabriella's own body left in the hands of a mistress who was at best indifferent. If she had not been so numb from shock at the whole situation, she might have cried. As it was, she only sat and stared straight ahead of her, contemplating her fate and wondering when an opportunity for escape might arise. If all else failed, she certainly was not going to part with her virtue without a fight, even if she was punished for it.
The woman at the door beckoned toward the ivory-clad girls. "Come, it is time." Wordlessly, all the girls rose and followed the woman as she led them down the hall. Gabriella too followed silently, but her eyes were darting all around, taking in the floor plan of the great house. She tried to commit every detail to memory, so when the time came for her escape she would not get lost. Where she would go or what she would do once she was free, she did not know, but it had to be better than this.
The girls were led into what must have been a ballroom under normal circumstances, though now there were chairs set across the floor in rows, and masked gentlemen filled the chairs. No dancing was taking place here tonight, thought Gabriella ruefully. From behind the identical black masks each man wore, she could feel their gazes upon her and the other girls. She might have blushed had the circumstances not been so dire. She hazarded a glance around the room.
There were a few women scattered along the outskirts of the room, but it was mostly men. There was no sign of Madame Le Turad, though with the black masks that even the women wore it was hard to say for certain. Would Madame stay and witness Gabriella's humiliation to the finish, or would she leave and return to the manor to await the money? Knowing Madame, either could be possible.
The girls were led to the front of the room, off to one side. There was a podium set up in the middle that Gabriella assumed must be for the auctioneer. How barbaric this all was! At the sight of the girls, any of the gentlemen milling about took their seats. A man approached the auctioneer's podium, and Gabriella realized it was about to begin. The auctioneer made some opening statements, but she was too nervous, the blood pounding hard in her ears, to listen.
All too soon, the first girl was brought up to the front by the podium. The door-woman held her tightly by the arm, and another unmasked man stood close by, appearing ready to pounce. That must be the guard, she thought. That would make her plans of escape more difficult. Still, things weren't over if she was 'sold', an opportunity to make a break for it might still arise before the true horror began. The girl up front sniffled and hung and her head, only to have the door-woman jerk it upright for the gentlemen to see.
"And now, the examination!" boomed the auctioneer, and Gabriella noticed for the first time a long, low table positioned near the podium. They forced the poor girl to lie down on it, and then her skirts were crudely yanked up, revealing her legs and the scrap of fabric that was serving the girls as underwear. An unmasked woman stepped forward, kneeling in front of the girl, and pulled the undergarment aside to insert her fingers
inside
the girl! Gabriella squirmed with discomfort for the poor girl, and dreaded her turn. The woman conducted her business quickly, turned to the auctioneer, and nodded.
"There we have it, gentlemen," said the auctioneer, "A bona fide virgin! Now, shall we start the bidding at fifty silvers?"
Fifty silvers! No wonder Madame was selling her; the money earned from this would be enough to keep the household running another year, and quite comfortably. The bidding increased, and ultimately the girl 'sold' for two hundred and ten silvers. That seemed like madness to Gabriella. How could the possibility of deflowering a virgin be so enticing to these men? No doubt they were all extremely wealthy and the money meant little to them, but it seemed such a strange thing to purchase. The girl was ushered to the other side of the room, and another ivory-clad girl was brought forth.
