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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~ Thursday Jan 28, 1813 ~
The scent of cinnamon scones wafted from the oven while my staff and I discussed recent events. They were not surprised to learn that Captain Thompson had professed his love, or at least inferred the sentiment. The proposal of marriage, however, earned a raised brow or two, and I assured them that I had no intention of taking him up on his proposition.
When Clara enquired what my feelings were for him, I admitted to having stumbled upon something that might be taken for love. At which time, I had to dismiss them due to their insistence that I elaborate on these vexing emotions.
After breakfast, I left home and traveled to the Office of Seaman's Wages to speak with Captain Remington. I needed information about Jimmy for the military hospital, and I knew he would be the one to get it for me.
"Good morning, Mistress Hayes. What brings you to this part of London?"
"You do, Captain. I had an inquiry of a military nature, and you were the first person I thought of to help."
"I am flattered. In fact, I was just about to send a letter inviting you to join me and Admiral Pattinson for a formal meeting early next week. Since you are here now, perhaps we can move that meeting to today. If you don't mind waiting, I will see if the admiral is available."
"Thank you. I wouldn't mind waiting at all."
The captain excused himself, and I spent his absence taking in the decorations of his office. Besides the medals displayed on his naval uniform, there were a number of awards and commendations hanging from the walls. It made me wonder if he might have earned the rank of admiral if it weren't for the injury that forced him off the battlefield and into an office. How improper would it be to ask what he received as his disability annuity?
A few minutes later, I was joined by the captain and an elderly gentleman. There could be no mistaking who was the superior officer. The admiral wore enough medals to sink a battleship, and I wondered if his rounded posture and telltale limp was due to the weight of them rather than his advanced years.
"Good day, Mistress Hayes. I have heard a great deal about you from the captain. He thinks quite highly of you." The admiral smiled charitably, causing a surplus of wrinkles to show up, and his hand trembled as he navigated his way into the chair next to me.
"I am blessed to have become good friends of the captain and his wife."
"Yes, Helena is a kind woman. Now, the captain tells me you have taken it upon yourself to speak for our permanently disabled men and see their annuities increased. That is quite a challenge you have taken on."
"I seem to be reminded of this at every turn, Admiral, but I will not be deterred. In fact, I have come today to learn the identity of a disabled solider who recently passed due to hypothermia. It seems the small annuity he received did not allow him to pay his landlord, and he attempted to weather London's recent winter storm in an abandoned factory. I learned this after speaking with another disabled soldier who was being treated for frostbite in hospital. There was no mention of family."
