A Regency era courtesan gives up her empire for love and discovers how truly binding her connections are to the noblemen she used to serve.
*****
In the sequel to Courte...
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After my conversation with Colonel Smith and Hugo the Behemoth, I had to take a moment to collect my thoughts. To have any hope of convincing Matron Orwell to let me visit the Pelican, I needed a solid plan. Rumors spread quickly on board a ship. Captain Boucetta and I had already been pronounced a couple, and I feared I would be battling vicious gossip as well as a cantankerous matron.
I returned to my barracks, but only to retrieve the maritime telescope. I would find no peace there, and the nurses chatting in their bunks didn't even notice I'd come and gone. The only place I had ever found silence was on the ship's deck, which is where I headed.
A nearly full moon and a pleasant breeze accompanied me as I walked around the perimeter in search of a secluded spot to rest. The watchmen on duty were busy, leaving me to enjoy my moonlit promenade in solitude. I stopped at the bow and spent a few moments observing the night sky and how the waves lifted and lowered the horizon.
A good ten meters away, the Pelican floated like a lame duck. A large hole gaped on the port side, and the main mast had been snapped in two with only the bottom half remaining. Despite the lack of proper light, men moved about the deck, and I watched them for a time through my telescope. They appeared to be using the top half of the mast as material for repairs.
Their orchestrated movements had me thinking of my staff back in London. I could not ask for a better team to keep my household running smoothly, although Clara and I had a number of tense encounters when I first arrived. Being two decades my senior, she assumed her knowledge of life and household affairs greatly overshadowed mine. We eventually came to an accord once she realized that I was worth more than a well-paid roll in the hay. Perhaps, I needed to approach Matron Orwell in the same manner.
As I came to the conclusion about how I would manage the Surety's matron, I spied through my telescope a soldier standing at the bow of the Pelican, hands clasped behind his back, unperturbed by the activity around him. While there was no way of making out facial features, the confident stance of the man had a distinct familiarity to it. Was it Jules? Or was my heart tricking me into believing it was him?
Whoever it was, he stared determinedly across the sea separating our vessels, looking as if he might be contemplating his future. If he knew it was me standing here, would his future look different to him? Would he return home and stay there? On a whim, I waved, watching carefully through the telescope. For a moment, I thought he might return the gesture. Then he tugged the brim of his hat over his eyes and walked away.
The man could have been anyone's son, but I chose to believe it was the son of Admiral Willis Thompson. I took this hopeful thought with me as I returned below deck and made my way to the infirmary. I found Matron Orwell standing in front of the linen cabinet, checking items off her list.
"Matron Orwell, may I have a word with you?" Knowing the matron despised nurses who were timid, I imagined her as a member of my staff, addressing her with even confidence.
