Chapter Two #2
The way her friend said it made her think the poor housecat was a prowling tiger in a faraway jungle waiting to pounce. “Cleo doesn’t wake up from her eighteen hours of napping until the evening.”
That wasn’t entirely true, for the cat only came out if she deemed a guest interesting.
Cleopatra—or Cleo for short—was a Siamese cat, sleek and soft with distinctive brown markings on tan fur.
Her light blue eyes were stunning, but she didn’t like changes to her schedule, which was why Hannah often had to lock her away when she had clients over.
One day when she’d been in the middle of her pregnancy, she’d found the cat, who was only a kitten at the time, sleeping in the gutter of a street in the shopping district of Mayfair.
Her eyes had reminded her of that long-ago navy man she’d started her erotic career with, and he’d once told her a tale about having a Siamese cat on his first ship, so by taking in the abandoned animal, she thought it a way to tie some of the loose threads of her life together.
They’d been inseparable ever since.
When she grew weary of the pitying glances Lady Catherine kept bestowing upon her, Hannah sighed. “Listen to me, Cate. I don’t need marriage or a husband or children…” Her voice broke and she hated herself for that tell. “…to live a fulfilled life.”
Except being a courtesan was quickly paling, because when it was her turn to talk about what bothered her in life, none of those men returned the favor.
They didn’t wish to hear it and neither did they try to offer comfort.
All she had in that regard was a quick exit with coin on her bureau.
Not even a kiss on the forehead or best wishes.
Men are all bastards.
Concern filled her friend’s eyes. “I worry about you, though, and quite frankly, I want you back. The old version of you when you laughed easily and flirted outrageously, the you who confided in me or the you who was eager to hike up her skirts and wade up to her ankles in the Serpentine on hot days.”
Tears rose into Hannah’s eyes. “To be honest, I miss that version of me too,” she admitted in a whisper. “I also miss typical London weather in the face of constant rain and gloom and coolness.” Then she shook her head. “Don’t pity me. There is no reason.”
Only she knew the extent of her pain or loss.
It was no one else’s business or burden.
Twice, she’d poured out the joy and despair in two letters she’d thought to send to the father of her child, but she hadn’t the courage and didn’t wish to disrupt his navy career.
From the brief blurbs she’d read in the papers or the gossip she’d heard in ballrooms, he was a rising star in the Navy, and would reach the designation of captain quickly.
He probably wouldn’t have written back, regardless.
So she’d tucked those two fat letters deep into the bottom of a drawer, and that was where they’d rested ever since.
Besides, he’d never come back to London, anyway.
Then she’d found out why. The rumors said Buckthorne had been lost in a storm, had gone down with his ship shortly after she discovered she’d been increasing.
She hadn’t wanted to believe it, but the days slipped into months then into years, and she had no choice.
And had to move on.
Softly clearing her throat, she said, “Let us please change the subject.”
“Very well.” Lady Catherine nodded and the concern cleared from her face. “I have gossip on a few people you’ll be interested in hearing.”
“How fun!” Hannah refreshed the tea in her cup and leaned slightly forward. “Tell me.”
For the next quarter of an hour, they gossiped and chatted about various people in the ton they both knew, covering subjects like who was having affairs, whose marriages were cold and false, which couples were still wildly in love, who was making waves in society for a variety of reasons, which men were rising in parliament.
“Oh, Cate, I’m so glad you called today. I truly needed this visit,” she said as she wiped the tears from her eyes that had fallen from laughter and critique. “It makes me wish I moved more within those circles. Perhaps I shouldn’t have abandoned society so much.”
It had been essential to hide herself in the beginning then protect herself later.
“Well, these teas are our standing monthly arrangement. Oh, you should come to an event with me soon! That would prove ever so fun.” Then Lady Catherine’s eyes rounded. “I almost forgot the juiciest bit of gossip I heard a couple of days ago.”
“What is it?” she asked as she raised her cup to her lips.
“Captain Buckthorne has returned to England. In fact, he is in London as we speak.”
“What?” She dropped her teacup. It crashed into the low table and broke into three pieces, spilling amber tea onto the carpet. Not even Lady Catherine knew that she’d been his mistress years ago. “I thought he’d died?” Her hands shook, and to hide them, she buried her fingers in her skirting.
“Apparently, he did not, and I’ll wager he has stories to tell.
” The other woman shrugged. “Isn’t that exciting, though?
I remember him from our Seasons. So dashing at parties in his naval uniform.
He hadn’t been a captain back then, of course, and I always thought he would have been a lovely man to bring up to scratch… ”
“Yes, he was all of that,” Hannah said faintly as a wave of dizziness assailed her. “I can’t believe he survived.” And yet he’d not sent her any sort of word. Had they not meant that much to each other, then? “When did he come back?”
“Oh, I’m not certain. I heard it from my brother, that he saw him at their club two days ago. So I would imagine shortly before that.”
Lady Catherine’s brother was the Duke of Foxcroft.
They’d been like a second family to her when things had been too chaotic with her own.
Now, she only had her brother, and more often than not, he was at the ancestral manor in Derbyshire, content with his duties as baron.
Due to the weather this year, she’d only seen him once in London.
“How nice for him,” she managed to gasp out in a soft voice.
He could have at least sent a note ‘round.
“Yes, and I guess he’s staying at the club,” Lady Catherine continued, oblivious to Hannah’s discomfort. “There’s some bad blood between him and his half-brother or some such gammon. I didn’t know he had one.”
“Ah.” Vaguely she remembered that Buckthorne had mentioned a brother years ago, but she couldn’t remember the history on the spot, because that would require too many boxes in her head to open and emotions to escape.
I can’t go back to that time.
To distract herself, she picked up the pieces of her cup and put them on the saucer.
Then she tried to mop up the worst of the tea with her napkin.
“If you don’t mind, Cate, I’m feeling a megrim come on.
I need to go lie down.” She’d suffered them since her pregnancy.
“Will you see yourself out?” It wasn’t a lie, and if she didn’t find a way to relax her mind and body soon, the headache would grow too severe.
“Of course.” As Lady Catherine stood, she eyed Hannah with concern. “Are you certain you don’t want me to stay and look after you? I could read to you.”
Which is what they used to do when they were young women sharing Seasons.
“No, thank you.” Hannah waved her off. She rose to her feet and swayed slightly.
“Go. I’ll be fine. Just going to lay down for a while.
You have a family to take care of, remember.
” At least Hannah didn’t have that, which would have made suffering through the megrim even worse.
“All right. I’ll come by in a few days to check on you.”
“I would appreciate that.”
Once Lady Catherine eventually left, Hannah ran upstairs to her bedroom only to scream into a pillow and then indulge in tears, that were a needed outlet much like intercourse. It was less exciting, but had much more self-loathing.
I must remember that I no longer have feelings of any kind for Captain Buckthorne.
For she refused to fall back down that hole into grief, anger, and darkness. She’d barely survived it years ago.