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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My carriage pulled up at the Thompson residence just as another was leaving, too late for me to see who occupied it. But I had a feeling I would find out presently. Carter seemed weary when he opened the door, and I engaged him as he helped me off with my coat.
"How are you this afternoon, Carter?"
"Just fine. And you?"
"I am well. How is Alice? Did she injure herself terribly yesterday?"
He gave his head a solemn shake, causing my heart to leap into my throat. "She has been very brave, but I am afraid her ankle has been severely sprained."
"Oh, dear. Was she seen by a physician? Is that who just left in the coach?"
He blinked at me as if he didn't know what I was talking about. Then he seemed to comprehend. "No. A physician attended her last evening. Her ankle has been immobilized and she has been instructed to stay off her foot for four weeks if she wants to keep it healthy."
"Four weeks? She will nearly miss the winter ball season."
"I am afraid so. The admiral is quite put out. I fear Lord Kingsley's visit will prove challenging for all concerned."
Blast and bother.
There went any chance of winning the admiral's empathy. I held back a scowl as Carter ushered me into the sitting room where Alice reclined on the settee, just as I had envisioned her.
"Mistress Hayes! I am so glad you're here early." Alice waved me into the wingback across from her. "Did you see Mister Dalrymple? He just left. He insisted on staying in London to see that I was recovering properly. He has attended me since breakfast."
Ah. So, Mister Dalrymple was the mystery person occupying the coach. "Well, that was very considerate of him. How are you two getting along?"
Alice's face softened into a blush, and she directed her focus to her foot, which was bandaged and resting atop a decorative pillow. "Ben is a dear man. He didn't want to let go of my hand while we were on the ice. But I am stubborn, and I insisted he let me manage on my own." She pursed her lips as she glanced over to me. "Mother always used the word strong, but I knew she meant stubborn."
"Both traits can be turned into assets. I am glad to hear you and Mister Dalrymple have become friends."
"Yes. I do consider him a friend. But I am terribly nervous about engaging Lord Kingsley. What will he think of my current state? Will he believe me incapable? Will he dismiss me without a second thought?"
"If he dismisses you, he is not worth your concern."
She nodded into her chest. "I suppose you're right. I am worrying over nothing. It's father who seems to have taken this terrible turn of events so poorly. I believe he blames Mister Dalrymple for the accident, although that is not the case at all."
