A 19th century London courtesan agrees to a phony courtship with a navy captain and finds herself negotiating uncharted territory outside the boudoir.
*****
The year is eighteen-t...
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"When? When did the captain leave for America?"
Tilda and Jasper managed to get me sitting on the staircase. The parlor just seemed too far off.
"According to Alice and the admiral, he was leaving on a ship this afternoon," Tilda explained carefully. "Alice was so distraught, the poor thing. They were here last evening, hoping you might have returned early from your visit with the earl. She said she would be sending an urgent missive to you in the hopes you might receive it and return in time to see the captain off."
A flicker of hope lit inside my chest as I glanced between them. "What time this afternoon? Do you suppose the ship is still in port?"
They both glanced at the window, their expressions bleak. On the other side of the glass, the sky barely registered the lavender glow of the long-faded sunset. "I'm afraid not, Mistress," Jasper said. "The ship was scheduled to sail at sunset."
I felt as if an anchor hung from my head as my chin dropped to my chest. Had Alice's urgent missive been riding inside the mail coach that sped past us while Clementine and I rode from Oxford? If it had, it would not have made a difference. I was already too late. What had made the captain act in such an impulsive and hasty manner? Why hadn't he given me an ultimatum? Chatham or America? Would that have been so damned difficult?
Tilda patted my shoulder. "A bit of good news came while you were away. At least, I am thinking it's good news. It came from the palace. I know you've been waiting to hear..."
"A letter came from the palace?"
"Yes, Mistress. It's in the parlor. Shall I fetch it for you?"
I pursed my lips, wishing I had a portion of brandy to smooth out the tightness in my chest. Was it wrong to wish away my heartache with alcohol? "Yes, please."
Tilda made haste to retrieve the letter, and she placed it in my hand after breaking the thick wax seal with the paper knife. For a moment, I just stared at the seal. I never imagined I would be the bearer of a palace missive. Would it be from the prince regent himself? Surely, he would have one of his many advisors manage it. I withdrew the letter, and with Tilda and Jasper reading over my shoulder, I followed the elegant writing with a wary eye.
Mistress Rosalind Hayes,
Prince Regent George Augustus Frederick requires your attendance at St. James Palace on Tuesday, the sixteenth day of February. You will report to the guard house to submit to an inquiry prior to admittance. Please, be informed that any items brought with you will be confiscated until your departure.
Regards from the desk of the advisor to the Prince Regent George Augustus Frederick
"Well, the prince regent has agreed to hear me out. That is something, I suppose."
"It's a great deal, Mistress," Jasper said. "You have been working toward this cause for some weeks now."
I forced a smile onto my face. Indeed, this was good news. I should have felt more pleased. It was that blasted Captain Thompson causing me unnecessary distress. If he had not left like that. If he had been a proper gentleman and told me goodbye. It was at this point I realized the tips of my gloves were soaked as I held them to my eyes, staving off the tears that were impossible to hide.
