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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Countess Kingsley's handmaid, Meredith, was a talkative little thing. What's more, she knew her way around London better than I did. Our first stop was a hat shop called Lock & Company Hatters. I knew of it but never justified the expense of it. Since the earl had afforded me his coin, I left my guilt at the door.
"All the ladies of society are wearing toppers today." Meredith scuttled about the shop, keeping the attendant on her heels. "I know the earl loves the simplicity of ivory and black. And I believe silk will be appropriate for this evening's affair." She pointed to a smart-looking high hat covered in a shiny ivory fabric with a drape of black lace around the brim. "Provocative yet refined, don't you think?"
She handed the attendant the hat in question, giving him an opportunity to do his job. He guided me in front of an oval looking glass and snugged the hat on my head. I had to admit, the bold contrast in colors accentuated the red highlights in my hair, and the lace draped just low enough to provide an alluring canopy over my brows.
"I like it," I offered. "It's much nicer than the one I almost purchased at Pennington's."
"Pennington's is fine, but they do not guarantee their hats," the attendant explained. "Should a seam pop for any reason, or if it receives a stain, merely bring it to the shop and we will make the necessary repairs free of charge."
Meredith smiled and nodded at the attendant. "Too right, you are, sir. Which is why we will purchase this hat for Mistress Hayes. She likes it and we do not have time to dawdle."
Within minutes, we were back in the carriage heading to our next destination; a dressmaker in Mayfair that catered exclusively to nobles and royalty. I felt like a princess as Meredith and a total of three attendants doted over me for more than an hour. By the end of it, I had acquired not only a pair of leather slippers with a handsome eyelet design, but I now owned a dress made by the same hands that tailored for the house of the prince regent. If Mistress Middleton had witnessed the scene and set eyes on my dress with the plunging neckline and ivory brocade, she would have turned green with envy.
With our purchases made and our job done, the coach carried me back to my residence, and Meredith chose that opportunity to speak frankly. "Will the earl be retaining you as a courtesan, then? I'm merely curious. I'm sure I will hear of it in due course."
"We have not entered into a formal agreement, but he has made the intention plain enough."
"I thought he might be considering it. The countess has been suffering anxiety for some time, and their intimate relations have suffered as a consequence. This is all in confidence, you understand."
"Of course. My profession frequently requires me to keep confidences. If I may ask, why does the countess experience anxiety? Has a cause been identified?"
For the first time since making her acquaintance, the handmaid's expression turned grim. "She has never recovered from the death of her brother. He lost both legs in the battle of Trafalger and fell into a terrible depression, which caused him to take his own life not a year later."
