Kourtesan
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Destined ~ the print sale
This is actually fourth in the series.
I always say people don't read me for a history lesson.
#
DESTINED
By: Kristina Dalton
Copyright © 2009
DEDICATIONS
I wrote this book for all the women who have read a novel and wished to be the heroine, the women who thought themselves too short, tall, full or thin to ever have a man adore them. All through my life I’ve met funny, charming, clever females who didn’t consider themselves attractive. If you’ve looked in the mirror and not liked what you saw, or if someone criticized you until you believed what they said, this book is dedicated to you.
I hope you find as much humor and pleasure in reading about Abigail as I did writing about her.
PART ONE
LADY DOTH PROTEST
CHAPTER ONE
Mid November 1770
London, England
James
I had accepted my newly-found cousin’s invitation to join him at his London house for the Little Season. Nobody told me this ******* crowded cesspool froze over this time of year. I had to commission coats. I gave that some thought as I rode through the streets. The Dover tailor I had patronized prissed and preened about sleeve decoration and neck cloths until I growled at him. During the weeks I visited with my great grandmother’s relatives, I had become fast friends with Roderick, “Roddy”, head of the family at my age and Earl of Seth.
I had returned a bit earlier to Roddy’s bachelor residence in Mayfair. He had left instructions for me to join as his guest at a ball thrown by some duke, **** or Percy I could not summon a care for. However, I favored my cousin’s company and I braved these brutal climes to get to know my extended family.
At the designated address, I dismounted. Torches burned, ornate carriages arrived in a steady stream, spilling out mincing couples who seemed to teeter on equally precarious, high-heeled shoes. Footmen moved in very smooth numbers, far more organized and admirable than those who snubbed them.
I handed the reins of my filly to a liveried servant. Then, I withdrew a small purse from inside my coat. I gave him a few gold coins, replaced the bag. “She’s valuable and dear to me. See to her comfort.”
Though I had yet to actually name the filly I purchased almost first thing upon arrival in Dover, I used the endearment, ‘dulce’. Mayhaps I should just call her that. She stopped, looked back and whickered at me. “Go on, it’s all right.”
I walked up to the residence’s front, and in through the big door. The smell in here made me wonder if I could stand it. I doubted any of the crowd awaiting ‘announcement’ had bathed within three days. Despite the cold weather, placing dirty clothes on dirty bodies did not spare one the stench.
I smiled inwardly, thinking of my Great Uncle Etienne. He would have run into the street exclaiming, “Mon Dieu!”
Soldiering onward, I waited. I heard murmuring and tittering around me. Little wonder. Few of these fetid pea****s and patch-bedecked, vacant-eyed ‘ladies’ reached my shoulder in height.
As I approached the majordomo, he sniffed as if I smelled bad. “Your name, sir?”
“James Garrett.”
Tone becoming even more nasal, he persisted, “Title?”
I stared down at him. “Not to be trifled with.” Seeing him jump and pale under his white wig, I added, “I am the guest of my cousin, the Earl of Seth.”
At the title ‘Earl’, the pathetic fellow jumped again. In a tone of voice that sawed my ears, he intoned, “Mister James Garrett, cousin to Seth.”
The ripple of conversation erupted as I walked into the crowded room at the mouth of the ballroom. I could not help comparing the overly groomed and facetious appearance of the peerage. The men rather amused, the women repulsed. I realized I would find neither sport, nor enjoyment with them.
As I emerged into the ballroom, I wondered if I might find Roddy to make my excuses.
“James!”
I followed the sound of his voice and a hand waving amid the unpleasant crush. As I reached him, the orchestra struck up a new tune and couples flooded the dance floor. Roddy alone came anywhere close to my height. I glanced around and said above the noise, “How in Hell do you find aught in terms of feminine amusement among this lot?”
He guffawed. “Coz James, are sure you have not expired?”
“The lack of cleanliness and abundance of artifice repels me.” Even as I spoke, small groups of the creatures circled. Reminded of sharks, I decided I should rather face the real article. The dancing crowd split for a moment and something caught my eye. At first I knew not what. Then I stepped to my left and saw a lovely little woman seated along the far wall. “Cousin Roddy, I wish to exploit your position and title for an introduction.”
“Ah, so your heart yet beats.” He sounded smug.
I gave not a ****e. “Follow me.”
Dodging and weaving among the crowd, I saw the woman I sought and two others stand and walk forward. I realized chaperones hovered close. Mothers, perhaps. At last I saw the object of my interest a bit better. She did not stand very tall. Neither did she sport fashion’s ripening demand for frizz, frill and fuss. Her light brown hair had undergone dressing in a simple, almost outdated style. She wore a modest gown over her enticingly full, hourglass-shaped body.
As we approached the close crowd, it all but vibrated. Doubtless due to Roddy’s title. He spoke with accustomed ease and privilege. “Ladies, may I present James Garrett, my cousin.” In his humorous way, he added, “He is single and the Almighty seeks him for loans.”
I gazed at her. She glanced up at me and I had to stifle an ungentlemanly chuckle, for her very large and lovely gray eyes briefly crossed. I listened with half an ear, and responded by rote as Roddy, the chaperones and parents went through the appropriate drivel.
At the very end, Roddy made the introduction I wanted. “The Honorable Miss Abigail Seymour, may I introduce Mister James Garrett, my cousin and a king in his own right.”
Abigail
Her face appealed to me. Intelligent forehead, wide large eyes with long lashes, a pert nose, the most adorable little mouth, pointed chin. She smelled clean and sweet, and I discovered images of gray doves cavorting in my mind’s eye.
I bowed. “My pleasure entirely.” The orchestra finished a tune and another began. I hated dancing. Of this sort, anyway. However, I found myself ready to endure much for sake of getting close to her. “Might you honor me with this dance?”
Her eyes crossed again and she walked away.
The two females on either sided shoved in before me. One batted her kholed lashes at me. “Which of us did you seek, sir?”
I followed the progress of my curvy dove and her chaperone through the people flanking the dance floor.
Roddy observed, “Either she did not know you addressed her, or she just gave you the cut direct.”
The strongest urge to pursue erupted in me, spread through my body. “Whatever the case, I wish to become her suitor.”
Roddy laughed. “Coz, despite her future title, she is firmly shelved. Though not quite a spinster, she is without recommendation as a bride.”
I continued through the throng, as I heard him laughing at my back. “Good. Then I won’t have to dispatch any beaus on the field of honor.”
CHAPTER TWO
Abigail
“A-a-a-a-a-biaga-a-a-ail!”
My Aunt Agatha’s voice screeching above the sound of Bach made me miss a step. Some passing dandy bumped into me. I turned to accept the expected apology. However, a careless servant walked too close with a tray of sherry and pushed it into the path of my hand. The dandy tried to get clear the shower of liquid and glass vessels, slipped and fell flat on his lower portions. That tray bearer soon followed suit.
“I vow these engagements always come to disorder.” Stepping daintily around the clumsy fallen, I continued on my way to the punch bowl. When I arrived, cut crystal cups sat in a neat arrangement, already filled. I took one and allowed myself one longing look at a nearby refreshment table. What utter cruelty. They offered those same delicious apple tartlets they had at their masque in the spring.
I did not eat in public. Nor in front of anyone save family. The taunts concerning my shape and size became unbearable, so I simply ceased.
“Abigail! “ Aunt Agatha arrived at my side. “What in Heaven’s name were you thinking? That cousin to Seth asked you to dance!” She lowered her voice, evidently recovering from whatever had worked her into such frenzy. “Despite your parents’ indulgence, our family would greatly benefit if you made such a match.”
“What, pray tell, do you mean?” I sipped punch. It slid down my throat in a cool, refreshing burst of some light wine and juice.
I heard my aunt suck in her breath. “My sweet Lord above. Here he comes.”
I wagered they had dusted those tartlets with sugar and cinnamon again. My knowledge of them came from shameful means. I had spent the evening tucking them into my reticule and devouring them in stolen moments. Botheration. My mouth watered.
A very deep male voice with the most unusual accent spoke behind me. “Miss Abigail?”
It sounded familiar and then I recalled the giant who had asked either Miss Frances or Miss Patience to dance. Reluctantly, I turned. I could not focus upon his face without issue. It reminded of me of my girlhood when I would try to stare at the sun. Once, in the church yard, I had become dizzy, fallen down and put a lump on my head the size of snooty Cousin Victoria’s paste ruby ring.
I found my gaze focused upon a spot just below his chest. Tilting back my head, I squinted, attempting to see his face without that swimmy sensation. An overall impression of exotic, rather savage features, dark hair and skin and intimidating amber eyes formed for me.
He bowed slightly. “Miss Abigail, forgive me if my forwardness offended you. It would truly honor me, if you would gift me with a dance.”
Aunt Agatha replied, “Of course, sir.”
I longed to return to our apartments with the Weatherby’s. Blinking to clear my skewed vision, I said. “With regret, I must retire for the evening. Please accept my apology and gratitude for the gallant invitation.” My, he stood tall as some trees.
He stepped into my path. “May I call upon you, Miss Abigail?”
“Please,” Aunt Agatha replied eagerly.
#
Despite taking the Small Season in London, I kept country hours. I woke early, called for a bath and luxuriated in it. My garments all came into creation through a seamstress with many assistants. More the pity, my weight fluctuated. When in town, I so often deprived myself. At home, I ate as I pleased. As a result, my gowns required that my lacing had seen sufficient tightening to fit.
Reclining in a tub represented my time at liberty. I bathed every chance I had, and with a Scottish clover blossom and green apple soap I loved.
After my soak, I dried. I could not allow maids to see me unclothed. I knew my body did not fit the standard. My flesh had too much abundance. Thusly, I managed myself into undergarments with much difficulty.
An anxious knocking rained upon my door. “Abigail?”
“Aye, Aunt Agatha.” This day I wished to eat and steal a few moments with a novel I had hidden.
“That cousin to Seth has called, left his card and requested we go with him to the British Museum.”
“I’ve no wish to spend my day bending my neck backward. Send a polite decline. Plead some female compliant.”
“Abigail, that man is richer than his earl cousin.”
“I wish him all the best. May he and his swollen coffers have much enjoyment of each other.”
#
That night I ate and retired to my suite. I completed my nightly rituals and very happily undressed and put on a nightrail. Going to bed, I lie awake watching the play of swaying branches over the window. The pattern of movement entranced.
#
“Abigail, my sweet.”
I flopped about in my bed, not knowing what woke me. My braided hair had pulled a bit loose. I shoved strands from my eyes. Desirous of returning to sleep, I flipped onto my front.
A deep, velvety chuckle caused me to roll and sit upright, bedclothes clutched to me.
“Whom is there?”
“James.”
Scandalized, terrified, I trembled. “I beg you, sir, do not harm me.”
Something in his voice calmed me. “I would never. Your refusal to favor me with your presence prompted me to this action.”
In the darkness I trembled. “You terrify me. Why would I accept you?” I regretted my forwardness at once.
“Because you hold me in your hand.” I heard a few subtle noises. “Forgive me if I frightened you. I only wish to please.”
After a few overly rapid heartbeats, I lit a lamp and found myself alone.
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