Laughter rang through the air as Isabella reclined against a velvet cushion, eyes glimmering with amusement, while Ella, ever the graceful hostess, poured wine into mismatched goblets for them.
After their odd but amusing encounter at the fabric store, Isabella had asked a few discreet questions and found out that Ella lived only a few streets away from the fabric store. Curiosity tugged at her until she couldn't resist any longer. She wasn't quite sure what she'd expected—perhaps a lavish lair or a dark den of secrets—but Ella's home was neither. It was simple, cosy, and smelled faintly of baked bread.
Isabella couldn't help but remember the first time she had shown up in front of Ella's house. The woman had been reluctant to let her in. "You found me," Ella said, leaning on the doorframe, one brow raised. Yes, she wasn't exactly pleased to see the lady of the town perched in front of her house.
"I did," Isabella replied with a shy smile, clasping her gloved hands in front of her. "It wasn't very hard, trust me." Things were a little strange between them that day, but that didn't stop her from showing up again.
On the second day, Ella lingered by the window, her fingers absently brushing the edge of the curtain as she watched the familiar silhouette descend from the carriage. Lady Isabella's bonnet was slightly askew, her skirts lifting just above her ankles as she navigated the uneven stones of the narrow path with a quiet determination.
Ella sighed. There was a small flutter in her chest that she didn't quite understand. She smoothed the front of her simple dress, composed herself, and opened the door with cautious hands—part curiosity, part guarded habit.
"You didn't think I'd vanish so easily, did you?" Isabella called out with that familiar glint in her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling into a crooked, half-proud smile. "Honestly, Ella. Give me a little more credit."
Ella blinked, not yet ready to laugh, but not quite ready to shut the door either. Isabella stepped inside without waiting for permission, as if she belonged there—and perhaps, in a strange way, she already did.
"Before you start scolding me," Isabella continued, loosening the drawstring of her pouch, "I thought I'd come bearing peace… in a bottle."
Ella folded her arms and gave her a wary look. "Peace, is it? Let me guess—some royal trinket meant to charm me into silence?"
Isabella chuckled. "No trinkets. I'm not that boring." She pulled out a cloth-wrapped parcel and slowly unwrapped it to reveal a dark glass bottle—modest in size, but elegant in design, with gold threading on the stopper and a faintly waxed seal. It looked like something meant to be hidden in a nobleman's cellar—not gifted on a whim.
"I may or may not have… borrowed it," Isabella confessed, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And I may or may not have lied to the butler about why the bottle was missing."
Ella leaned in, her lips parting slightly as she took in the familiar emblem on the wax. Her expression softened, just a little. "Is that—?"
"Aged brandy from my husband's private shelf," Isabella finished. "I thought you might appreciate something strong. For the nerves. Or the soul."
There was a pause. Ella stared at the bottle, then looked up at Isabella. Her posture slackened, and the faintest smile tugged at her lips. "Well… if it truly is what you claim, then I suppose you've earned a seat by the fire. For now."
Isabella grinned, more in relief than triumph. "That's the best offer I've had all week."
They stood there for a moment, neither quite knowing what to say next. But something in the air had shifted—less guarded now, more familiar. Two women from vastly different worlds, sharing a stolen bottle and a quiet understanding.
That was the start of it, all thanks to the idea of stealing from her husband.
At first, Ella had been sceptical about Isabella's offer of friendship. Highborn ladies didn't just walk into her life for tea and gossip—not unless it was to warn her off their husbands or remind her how disgraceful she was.
But Isabella was different. She didn't carry herself like someone trying to prove anything. She was soft-spoken but firm, curious without being judgmental. Slowly, over shared cups of tea and quiet laughter, Ella began to let her guard down.
Over the next few days, Isablla's visits became more frequent. Judith, Isabella's young maid, sometimes accompanied her but usually stayed outside or kept to herself when inside. Isabella found herself looking forward to those moments with Ella. Judith was a lovely company, but she was barely nineteen and still saw the world through rose-colored glasses.
Ella, on the other hand, was three years older than Isabella and had lived a life filled with scars and adventurous stories she would never get enough of.
As their laughter died down, Isabella set her teacup aside, her gaze focused on Ella's face.
"I know that look, what do you want to know?" Ella said, a soft smile on her face.
Isabella finally asked the question that had been burning in her chest. "Why did you choose this life?" Her voice was gentle, not mocking, not prying. Just... wondering.
Ella didn't answer right away. She also set down her teacup, running her fingers along its rim before leaning back in her chair. Her gaze drifted to the window, and for a moment, Isabella thought she might not respond at all.
"I didn't exactly choose it," Ella said at last. "It chose me. Or maybe life pushed me into a corner, and I made the best of it." She paused, then looked at Isabella, eyes unreadable. "I have a child. A daughter. Seven years old. The sweetest creature you will ever find on earth."
Isabella blinked, surprised, but said nothing as she allowed the new information to digest. It was hard to picture Ella as a mother.
"I found myself wth a child at the tender age of twenty. The man... he swore he loved me. Promised marriage. Said all the right things. Did all the right things—of course, except making us official. And just a month before I was due, he married someone else. A noble lady with money and a name that mattered."
Isabella's chest tightened. "Oh, Ella, I am so sorry."
Ella shrugged one shoulder, but her eyes were suddenly tired like someone who had been carrying the weight of the world. "Everyone blamed me. They laughed, said I couldn't keep a man. That I had thrown myself at him. My family... they didn't protect me. They turned their backs when I needed them the most. Said I brought shame on them. I cried for months." Her voice cracked at the end, but no single tear drop appeared as Isabella had half expected.
There was a long silence. Isabella reached out and touched Ella's hands. "It's their loss, not yours. I mean, you are one of the most amazing people I know."
"How was I supposed to know he was lying?" Ella's voice cracked more, slowly reflecting the pain and anger she had held on for so long. "They all celebrated and congratulated him. Why didn't anyone call him out? Why didn't anyone tell him he was wrong? Why didn't anyone tell him how cruel he was?"
Her gaze was sharp now, not at Isabella, but at the world. "I was the one who got shamed. I was the one who paid for everything, while he went on living like nothing happened."
Isabella reached over and gently touched Ella's hand.
"I got tired of crying," Ella continued. "Tired of being the victim. So I did something that would make them all squirm. I became a courtesan." She smiled wryly. "A lady of the night. A woman they feared and hated—but couldn't look away from. I became their nightmare." She turned to Isabella, expecting to see the familiar judgmental and disgusted look, but all that was there was sympathy and adoration?
"You sure are stronger than you look." She grinned at Ella. "What happened to your daughter?" Isabella asked softly.
"She's with my late father's aunt. Lives far away. Kind woman, and luckily, she doesn't know much about... everything. She loves having my girl around. Never had children of her own." Ella looked away. "I didn't want my Maria growing up in the middle of this. She deserves better."
Isabella's respect for Ella grew tenfold in that moment. She saw more than just a woman with a scandalous title—she saw strength, grit, and a mother's love wrapped in pride and pain. Oh, she was glad she hadn't listened to Robert's rants.
Another round of silence lingered in the room before Ella turned to Isabella with a serious look. "I must ask, Lady Isabella... why are you really here? You're a noblewoman. It's not every day someone like you comes knocking on a door like mine."
Isabella chuckled, trying to brush the question aside. "Well, I thought I could use a friend around here."
Ella's brows shot up. "And you chose a courtesan? Someone who your brother-in-law despises?"
"You are not just a courtesan to me, Ella. You are strong, smart, beautiful, and the good friend anyone could ever ask for."
"You know, that's probably the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a long time."
"I am sorry you have had to go through all these alone. You have me now. Do not hesitate to let me know if you ever need my help in any way."
"No, I won't cry." Ella's eyes became glassy with unshed tears that vanished as soon as it came."Thank you so much."
Isabella smiled, but it didn't last long. "And for the record, Robert doesn't despise you. He just thought he was doing the right thing."
"Okay, thank you for that piece of information." Ella's face turned serious again. "You still haven't answered my question."
"How's the Devil's Den doing?" Isabella's lips curled into a tight smile.
Ella shook her head disapprovingly. "Oh no, don't you dare run from my question. I know women like you. You either want something or you're trying to prove something. Which one is it with you?"
Isabella, knowing she wouldn't escape this one, sighed and confessed. "Well, I guess this is it. Before you say anything, know that I admire and respect you a lot."
"Okay..." Ella drawled, eyes pinned on her companion.
"I want to learn." Isabella blurted.
"Learn?" Ella's brows rose, confusion clouding her face.
"You know…the rumours... how men fall at your feet, how you have them eating out of your palm and have them coming back for more. I suppose I just want to understand how you do it."
Ella blinked. Then laughed. A warm, throaty laugh that filled the room. "You want to join my line of work?"
"What? No!" Isabella said quickly, her cheeks burning. "My husband would have my head."
The warmth in her voice when she spoke of Leofric didn't go unnoticed by Ella, but she kept her thoughts to herself. She asked,"Does your husband not do it well enough for you?"
Isabella's eyes widened, colour rushing to her cheeks. She cleared her throat. "He is great."
Ella's grin widened mischievously. "Oh, tell me about it. Are you in love with him?"
Isabella scoffed, "Oh, please. That's nonsense. Love is not an option in our marriage."
"Sure, it isn't," Ella said, not believing a word.
"I just..." Isabella paused, fumbling for the right words. "I feel like there's more I can offer him. More I want to give. I want to please him, to surprise him. To know have his attention. But more importantly, to feel that power...you know, the type you have over these men."
Ella leaned back, staring at her. "And you say you're not in love with him?"