The Captain's Beloved

15 - Making Uncertain Acquaintances

"Where did you say she is from?"

"Algiers."

"And her face? Is it comely?"

"Very. She has dark hair and eyes, and her skin colour is naturally tanned. You will notice she enjoys wearing face paint, but not so much to be off-putting."

"And what about her intellect. I despise dolts."

"I know you do. Odette is quite worldly. I daresay, she has traveled more than I have."

He reached for my hand as the carriage came to a stop. "I doubt she has traveled across the sea and tended war wounded soldiers. Regardless of how comely or worldly this woman is, you will never fail to enlighten me with your curious and determined nature."

With my cheeks warmed by his compliment, we exited the carriage and stepped onto the pebble drive. While Odette's home did not possess the width of most manors if its time, the gables rose a full four stories. They appeared more like church spires, reaching higher than the many trees that surrounded the property. Of all the courtesans presently operating in London, Odette threw the most frequent and lavish galas. And she claimed her home could accommodate several dozen guests.

As we traversed the stone steps to the entrance, Mister Morrisey made his observations. "This is quite a grand home. The hedges are kept neat and the ornamentation does not disappoint. While not as conveniently located to my workplace as I would like, with luck, she will make it worth the weekly trip."

A spit-polished manservent greeted us at the door, and we followed him into a large front parlor. He asked that we wait comfortably while he fetched his mistress, and I watched Mister Morrisey take in his surroundings. I had visited Odette's home a number of times and knew she enlisted the help of an Algerian architect to redesign the English manor's interior, providing a motif that resembled those of her homeland.

Arched entryways and Persian rugs led to the various rooms, and colourful sections of fabric hung from finials and draped over sculpted bronze statues. Most notably, the sitting area within the parlor had been fashioned to mimic a life-sized bird cage. Within the structure, the seating consisted of a thick mattress on an open frame covered in pillows of rich, exotic textiles.

Mister Morrisey huffed. "I have never seen such outrageous furnishings. Is that a bed? Does she conduct her business in the parlor?"

"That is not a bed but a divan. It is used for conversing and can accommodate a number people comfortably."

"I doubt very much I will find comfort on that monstrosity."

I touched his hand gently. "Please, Mister Morrisey. It is a kindness to allow everyone freedom of expression. Although Odette chooses to live here in England, she finds comfort in connecting to her heritage through the patterns and colours in her home."

He huffed again, but I believed it was only for show, and we were soon distracted by Mistress Ziani's appearance at the parlor curtain. She arrived dressed in a billowy white costume gathered at her feet, which gave the impression of trousers, and the orange bodice fit more like a vest, decorated with small, gold discs that tinkled softly as she entered. Her hair was plaited into a single braid arranged across her shoulder, and a sash hung from her bonnet to frame a petite face. There could be no denying her beauty when presented in such an embellished fashion.

"Mistress Hayes. It has been too long." While she and I exchanged greetings, Odette kept her gaze on Mister Morrisey, who had not moved a muscle since she entered the room. "I have anticipated this meeting with great curiosity."

"I am grateful you could attend us, Mistress Ziani. It is my privilege to introduce Mister Jonathan Morrisey."

He bowed, although rather distractedly, as he, too, had not taken his eyes of this petite woman in unfamiliar garb. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Ziani. Your residence is quite...striking."