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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~ Monday, April 5, 1813 ~
I woke to the grumbling of my bunkmates as the early risers left their beds and trundled to the privy under the fog of sleep. For me, it was the most excited I'd been since taking up the post of cadet, although Collette appeared to share equally in my enthusiasm.
"Yer gonna make a fine nurse, Rose," she said as she ran a bristle brush across her teeth. "Ye have a patient temperament, which ye will need with these whiny men."
"It's not the men I'm worried about. It's the matron. She will not go easy on me, I am sure of that."
She didn't even try to argue because she knew it was true, and we hurried to grab a plate of breakfast before our shift started. After the matron sent each nurse loose on their assigned patients, she took me aside, filling my head with more information than any one person could possibly hold. I felt certain she intended to break my will, but she knew nothing of the will of an orphan, and I remained alert throughout the rapid training.
I managed to perform my duties adequately under the matron's watchful eye. While she insisted on correcting my technique with every new task, by lunch her complaints had turned into thoughtful lessons one might expect from a tutor wishing to see their pupil succeed. I saw this as an opportunity to broach a subject I had been afraid to bring up, which I did as she dismissed her nurses to the mess cabin.
"Matron Orwell, I wondered if you think it appropriate that I share the coin and items of convenience I collected for the injured men in our care. My benefactors were quite generous with their donations."
"What sort of items?" She spoke over her shoulder as we walked an aisle collecting soiled linens.
"Bristle brushes for their teeth, wax and combs for mustaches, parchment and pens, talcum powder."
"The navy supplies most of those items in their kits," she countered.
"Yes, but these items come from royalty, including the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Oxford. Many of them are of high quality. I am sure that will please the men."
She turned around and gave me a hard look as she clutched tightly to a laundry crate. Oh, dear. Had I pushed my luck and broached the subject too soon? "You are courtesan to the Duke of Norfolk?"
"Yes. He has been a friend of the family for many years. Before me, he was a patron of my tutor, Clementine Price."
A strange look took over her features, and I prepared for the verbal attack. Would she hold me responsible for the duke's refusal to carry on his royal lineage? She would not be the first to make the accusation.
"I need to stop listening to Marjorie. She told me you were tutored by Odette Ziani. And I will not mince words when it comes to that snake. Mistress Ziani has absolutely no moral compass."
