Rosemary Palm looked at the application form and then up at the applicant. The young woman was certainly comely in a slender, aristocratic way but it was that last adjective which disturbed her. Lady Brandywine looked aristocratic because she really
was
an aristocrat, a cadet member of one of Ankh-Morpork's oldest, richest and most renowned families. So what was she doing applying to join the Guild of (Ahem) Seamstresses?
"Well, everything is certainly in order," began the Guildmistress, "as far as it goes. But I am forced to ask, 'why'? Why is a young woman of your social standing putting in to become a professional in negotiable affection?"
Brandy wrinkled her pretty nose mischievously. "I could come up with all sorts of supposed reasons, I guess, but rather than lie to you may I just say that the primary motivation isโboredom!" The mischief disappeared to be replaced with determination. "I'm done with all the tittering gossip, the fatuous suitors, the pointless partiesโjust the entire upper class social world! The women in my family are all
effectively
whores, sleeping with the men who can shower them in jewels and keep them in high style, but to the last one, they deny it. I figure instead of putting my body up for sale at a debutante ball, I'll just rent it out. That way I spend
my
own money the way
I
want instead of doing like my mother and aunts, wheedling spending money out of their husbands.
That's
why."
Rosie blinked in surprise. So forthright an answer was unexpected at the very least. But, in strange sort of way, it was refreshing. 'Self-knowledge is the beginning of self-knowledge' Ly Tin Wheedle had written centuries ago but most of her fellow citizens would rather gawk than meditate.
"Oh. That does make sense so I guess we'll just sign you up. Does anyone in your family have any idea what you're doing?"
Brandy sniffed. "Only my younger brother, the gay one. Everyone else thinks I'm taking off for the Grand Sneer and expects me to be gone around the Circle Sea for months and then pop back into view. By the time they sober up enough to wonder where I've really gotten off to, they'll have forgotten what I look like. I took the liberty of pulling out enough money to 'travel luxuriously' so I can just disappear in comfort."
"Hmm, well as I'm sure you know we don't run a school like most of the other guilds so my next question is, 'how much experience do you have?' We don't just jump into bed with the gentleman and lie there, you know."
"I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're asking," Brandy replied, "but I can't claim to having a whole stable of lovers."
"Ah," Rosie responded, "then may I suggest that we assign you to younger clients? Older gentlemen tend to have rather, shall we say, more sophisticated desires? The young ones tend more towards the enthusiastic than to the refined."
Brandy lit up in a blazing smile. "Oh, if it's enthusiasm a man wants, I'm his woman! The real reason I decided to come to the Seamstresses instead of, say, the Assassins is that sex is wonderful fun and I couldn't imagine anything I'd rather be doing all day. Dancing? Needlepoint? Conniving? Forget those; I'd rather bonk."
Rosie smiled and made a note. "I can see that you've thought about this well and foresee a great and profitable career, Lady Brandywine. Welcome to the Seamstresses."
*****
"Young Milord Cedric, dear man!" Rosie gushed, "It's so good to see you back. How is the 'jewelry business' doing? Do sit down and have a glass of wine. I do want to know everything you've been up to."
Cedric Llewellyn, Lord Sto Kennet, and now pride of the Thieves' Guild 'Gentleman Burglar and Jewel Thieves' branch, handed the Guildmistress his obligatory derby hat and let her remove his coat. Taking the proffered glass, he settled down into a comfortable arm chair, took a sip, smacked his lips and smiled.