A 19th century London courtesan agrees to a phony courtship with a navy captain and finds herself negotiating uncharted territory outside the boudoir.
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The year is eighteen-t...
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~ Monday Jan 25, 1813 ~
Despite the waist-high snow drifts blanketing the city, the incorrigible Mister Heath and his horses had gone when Tilda woke me before breakfast. She and Jasper were the only staff available to attend me and my guests, given that Clara and Douglas still had to navigate the aftermath of the storm. Together, we were able to provide ample servings of eggs and oatmeal, as well as a variety of beverages, including coffee and port, should anyone require something stronger than tea.
Captain Thompson had been uncharacteristically quiet during breakfast, speaking only when engaged, and I worried that my friendly peck may have given him discomfort. A genteel woman would not have behaved so boldly. Surely, he suspected my reckless behaviour had been provoked by the disturbing events of the evening. Besides, he knew my propriety tended to slip around him.
Jules finally appeared to perk up once everyone had gathered in the sitting room and Captain Remington brought up the subject of my cause for the disabled soldiers.
"Mistress Hayes, I have more testimonials for you to submit on behalf of our war veterans. In fact, your diligence has gained the interest of the naval administrators as well." Captain Remington spoke with such pride, one might have thought the idea was his own. "If you wish it, I can arrange a meeting with Admiral Pattinson. He sits on the military board. He can tell you what to expect should you find yourself standing in front of them."
"Captain, that would be wonderful. You have offered so much in this endeavor. How will I ever repay your generosity?"
He waved his arm around the room. "I believe you have done a fine job with that. We have all been treated like nobility in your home, which I am sure the others will attest to."
A chorus of 'Ayes' echoed his sentiment, and I felt the warmth of their kindness manifest in my cheeks.
"You will be standing before the military board?" Jules asked. "I thought that was a closed assembly."
"If the board finds the cause worthy, she may be given an opportunity to speak at a later date," Captain Remington offered.
"When will this take place? The board meeting?" Jules pressed.
"When the forms I spent two days filling out are approved. Colonel Whitaker relates this could take as long as a month. Sooner if..." I snapped my mouth shut, keeping the details of the colonel's illicit suggestion out of our polite conversation. "That is, I pushed a little too hard for the forms to be expedited, and this rustled the colonel's feathers a bit."
Mister Faircloth chuckled. "I can see you giving the colonel an earful. The military board doesn't know what they're in for."
Jules narrowed his gaze at Mister Faircloth, but his attention only detoured for a moment. "Who else will be standing with you?" he probed.
