Not every scene makes it into the final manuscript, not even ones you REALLY like. This is one I cut out of Her Runaway Lady. Louise-Marie, the runaway lady of the title, is instructed by her coworker (and love interest) Solange in the fine art of laundry the 19th century Parisian way at a washhouse (the lavoir).
It was Sunday and the shop was closed. Solange was up and dressed far too early unless she was going to church. Louise-Marie squinted at her. Her outfit looked worn, not something she’d wear to church. Louise-Marie blinked, trying to rouse herself.
“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re going to the lavoir today. You’d better get moving if you want to come.”
Louise-Marie yawned and stretched. “The wash house? Why?”
Solange laughed and hefted a bundle of her undergarments. “To wash our linens. They won’t wash themselves.”
Louise-Marie sat up and stretched. The frigid air made her shiver and she grabbed her cashmere shawl from the bed where it was acting as an extra blanket. She wrapped it around herself and yawned. “I wish I could afford to pay for a laundress. I don’t have the slightest idea how to wash my clothing. Will you show me how?”
Solange laughed. “Pay for a laundress? In my dreams. Of course I’ll show you how but I’m not doing it for you.” She blew her a kiss. “No matter how pretty you are.”
Louise-Marie smiled in return, a flush heating her cheeks. “Is the lavoir very far?” Louise-Marie didn’t know this arrondissement well but she knew some of her mother’s friends lived closer to the river. Walking through the streets in daylight was risky so she tried to limit how much time she spent outside.
“Are you worried about carrying your laundry too far? It’s only just down by the river. And don’t worry, it’s not one of the bateaux-lavoir.”
Louise-Marie gaped at her. “You mean one of those laundry barges on the river that everyone wants to get rid of? I wouldn’t step foot on one of those if you paid me all the francs in Paris.”
Solange shook her head. “I won’t let any of those loose laundresses near you. Just get out of bed and get dressed. Nothing fancy. It’ll get ruined. You can borrow one of my old hats since yours are in the window. But you need to hurry. The others are waiting.”
With a speed that surprised her, Louise-Marie threw on a plain wool dress. Her maid would have been shocked at her ability to dress herself. Louise-Marie was proud that she could take care of herself without a servant. Now she would go further and do her own laundry. A thought occurred to her.
“Don’t I need some kind of soap to wash my linens with? All I have is my bar soap that I wash with. Will that work?”
Solange held up a rough bar of off-white soap. “I have this. You can bring your fancy soap. It’ll do the job, but it’s a bit of a waste.” She sniffed her soap and wrinkled her nose. “Might smell nicer than this though.”
Louise-Marie had brought several of her soaps from home in her toilette case. Who knew how long they would last if she was using them to wash clothing. She shrugged. At least she’d smell nice for a while before it ran out. Maybe Solange would enjoy her in nice-smelling undergarments. She hide her smile before Solange could ask about it, then tucked her bundle of undergarments into a linen sack. She tied on the poke bonnet she’d borrowed from Solange. “Ready. Can we stop for a coffee and a bite to eat on the way? I’m starving.”
“I can’t afford much. I sent my last paycheck home to Maman for Lucie’s doctor.”
Louise-Marie held out a hand to Solange. “Then let me treat you. With my abundant pay, I think I can afford a single cafe au lait for you. Maybe even a croissant if you’re nice to me.”
Solange took her hand and they giggled as they left the little garret.
No one else was on the stairs as they made their way down, still holding hands. Louise-Marie dared not even look at Solange, sure she’d snatch her hand back at the slightest provocation. Her slightly rough fingers rubbed Louise-Marie’s skin, a sensation that she enjoyed. They reached the workroom at the bottom of the stairs and Solange pulled her hand out of Louise-Marie’s. She suppressed a sigh. The other milliners were waiting there.
Jeanne was tapping her foot impatiently and glowering. “About time. Was Mademoiselle getting her beauty rest?”
Solange frowned at the framer. “Hush, Jeanne, we’re here, aren’t we? It’s Sunday and I didn’t want to get up early either.”
Jeanne turned with a huff and they all made their way to the side door to exit onto the street.
It was early enough that the streets were quiet, just a few carriages with trotting horses clattering along. Louise-Marie looked around as they traversed the empty streets to the lavoir, not expecting to see anyone she knew from her former life out at this hour but anxious just the same. Her heart raced and she kept her head down, hiding her face with the brim of the bonnet.
The lavoir was larger than she’d expected, the room full of steaming tubs of water and women talking as they scrubbed and rinsed their laundry. The steamy heat flushed her face immediately. She breathed in the smell of lye then coughed at the acrid fumes.
Solange tugged her to the person in charge. “We need to pay for our time. It’ll take us a few hours to wash and dry everything.”
The milliners handed over their payments and hung up their hats and cloaks before claiming tubs already full of warm water. Solange dumped her linens into one, gesturing to Louise-Marie to do the same. They scrubbed the clothing with their soap, then dumped buckets of boiling water into the tubs. Steam rose, making Louise-Marie feel faint. The exertion of the scrubbing was more effort that she could ever remember making. She glanced over at Solange who stood next to her, frowning while she scrubbed at her clothes. Damp curls clung to her face.
Louise-Marie itched to brush Solange’s curls back but kept her hands to herself. “You make it look so easy.”
Solange looked up, the frown dropping from her face and a cheeky grin taking its place. “I’ve done this a lot more than you have, little aristo.”
Louise-Marie plunged her hands into the water and squeezed out the clothing. “I’ve never washed my own clothing. I had no idea it was such hard work.”
Solange turned to her with one hand on her hip. “And yet here you are. Is your freedom worth all this effort? What I wouldn’t give to have someone else take care of my clothing.”
Louise-Marie lowered the clothing back into the water. She shook her head, sadness stealing across her. “It’s hard work but yes, it is worth it. I know I sound like an entitled whiny brat but that life was stifling. You would hate it, I promise. Your every move, word, even your expressions noted and criticised. You have to be conscious of how you appear in every moment or you are condemned as being inferior or unladylike or ill-bred.” Her voice had risen and the other women nearby stared at her. She ducked her head, her face flushing even brighter, and resumed scrubbing.
“I know what it feels like to be condemned as being ill-bred. It happens in the shop every time an aristo comes in. Except for those doctor ladies. That’s why we asked for your help serving customers.”
Louise-Marie didn’t want to revisit that topic. She had already agreed to the plan. “Oh yes, the doctors. Have you heard anything more about Claude getting a spot at that veterans’ hospital?”
“Not yet. She did say it might be a while. Are you still worried about being seen by someone who knows your family?”
Louise-Marie lifted the heavy dripping clothing out of the tub and dumped it onto the draining rack. “Of course I’m still worried.” She watched the water run out of the fabric, rivulets making their way down to the drain. How could she explain to Solange her certainty that being more visible at the shop was a mistake? “I need some fresh air and I still want my breakfast. Can we take a break after we get these into the drying room?”
They wrung out their clothing and hefted the sodden masses to the drying room, then hung the petticoats and camisoles and combinations on large wooden racks. Gusts of air from the hot air blower blasted them, making Louise-Marie even warmer.
Solange headed to the back door of the lavoir. “We’ll have to wait just outside while it dries. If we leave, someone will probably steal our clothes.”
The chilly air outside was welcome and Louise-Marie breathed in deeply. “Thank heavens. I thought I was going to melt in there.”
Solange’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “Poor you. Just wait until summertime. If you’re still here and haven’t gone running back home.”
Solange hadn’t heard anything she’d said about her life with her family. She shot a sorrowful look at her. “I’m going to pick up some croissants at the boulangerie on the corner. Do you want one?”
Solange smiled, not seeming to notice Louise-Marie’s mood. “Merci. I’ll keep an eye on our clothes.”
Louise-Marie trotted down the alley to the corner and stopped, realising that she hadn’t worn the concealing bonnet. The street was busier than when they’d arrived at the lavoir and nicer quality carriages were passing by, their well-off passengers out for visits. She shrank back against the wall of the alley, scanning the passing carriages for familiar faces. Her heart pounded. She shouldn’t be out here, anyone could spot her. With trembling legs, she turned and scurried back to the door of the lavoir.
Solange raised her eyebrows as she approached. “No croissants? Were they out?” She peered at Louise-Marie’s face and took hold of her arm.. “You’ve gone all pale. What happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing happened. I just got frightened.” She ducked her head.
Solange bent to look into Louise-Marie’s eyes. “What frightened you, cherie?” Her voice was soft, calming, as if she were speaking to a scared child..
Louise-Marie squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. She always seemed to cry in front of Solange. “I was frightened that one of the passing carriages would have someone I know in it.”
Solange gave her a little shake. “And did you see anyone?”
Louise-Marie shook her head.
“Ma chere, you can’t live your life always being afraid. Paris is full of many people. You’ll probably never see someone your mother knows.”
Louise-Marie looked up, her smile watery, and threw her arms around Solange. “Thank you for reassuring me. I’ll try to remember that.”
Solange squeezed her tightly. Louise-Marie could feel her warm breath in her hair and she relaxed into Solange’s embrace. Solange nuzzled against Louise-Marie’s hair then stepped back. “We should check on our clothing.”
The cold crept back and Louise-Marie shivered, missing Solange’s embrace and still hungry.
BJ Sikes, author 