The French Admiral Read Free Page B

large beauty mark, and her lips glistened with red paste. She was dressed in a morning gown in contrast to the care with which she had attended her toilet.
    â€œYoung genl’men, ah swear y’all took me unawares, callin’ so early, ” she gushed, sweeping into the room in grand, fluttery style. “How good o’ y’all ta think o’ mah humble li’l establissement. ”
    â€œYou are Lady Jane?” Alan asked, bending deep in a bow before taking her hand and bestowing a kiss. “A young man named Mayhew made us aware of your services as we were dining.”
    â€œSuch a darlin’ boy, as are y’all, o’ course,” she said in reply. “Do be seated now an’ take yore ease. Mose shall fetch us some . . . oh, here he is as ah speak. Do have some wine with me, though ’tis early in the day for mah usual practice.”
    The servant had donned a red coat tailored from some cast-off army uniform but now sewn into civilian splendor with many brass buttons and gilt appliqués suitable for livery. He set down a tarnished silver tray on the table between them and uncorked a bottle of hock, which he poured into three glasses that at least looked reasonably clean.
    â€œAn’ y’all’re from the harbor garrison, mah dears?” she asked.
    â€œOff a frigate, ma’am,” David answered, a bit shy still.
    â€œAn’ just in from a deprivin’ spell o’ sea duty.” She smiled.
    â€œAye, ma’am,” Alan said, sipping his wine. It wasn’t what he’d put on his own table, a little acrid on the tongue, but still potable. Seeing that David was shy, he led off by introducing themselves, told the mistress that it was David’s birthday. “So you see the reason for our visit, Lady Jane. Mother Abbess, we come for sport.”
    â€œAn’ how old would ya be on this August day, David Avery?” Lady Jane asked, making a jape as to the date and the month.
    â€œSeventeen, ma’am,” David said.
    â€œLa, ta be that young again,” Lady Jane said. “Ah b’lieve ah have just the girl for you. Of a good family from up-country, cruelly orphaned bah Rebels. She is new ta our callin’, so ya will be gentle with her, ah trust, young sir?”
    â€œOh, indeed, ma’am,” David gulped.
    â€œAn’ fer you, Mister Lewrie?” the abbess asked. “What sort o’ girl excites yer humors? Or shall ah just ask mah ladies ta come down an’ join us so you can make yer selection? Ah only have the five at present, but ah kin assure you they are all above average in comeliness, an’ none so jaded nor low-bred as ta displease the most discernin’ taste.”
    â€œAye, fetch ’em down,” Alan said, shifting on the settee.
    Lady Jane tinkled a bell on the table and, minutes later, a bevy of young women entered the room in morning gowns thin enough to exhibit charms that could be theirs for a fee. David was paired with a young girl named Della, a petite blonde who indeed seemed a homeless waif—fortunately a most womanly young waif. They sat down together and Mose fetched more glasses. Alan looked over the rest of the party and settled on a brunette with a sleepily sultry expression and long, slim limbs.
    â€œAh urge y’all ta linger over yore pleasures,” Lady Jane said as the rejected girls went back to their rooms. “We us’lly ask a guinea for mah ladies, but . . . since this is such a slow day for trade, and David’s birthday, let us say . . . ten shillings each? Plus whatever gratitude ya may wish t’extend t’mah darlin’s here?”
    â€œAnd the wine?” Alan asked, having been caught by hidden additions to the tariff in his past experience with knocking shops in London.
    â€œSay a bottle each, another two shillin’s, mah dears.”
    â€œMy treat,” Alan said, laying out two crown pieces on the