The Captain's Courtesan. Lucy Ashford
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Maybury was sitting alone in the candlelit library of his fine house in Brook Street. And the more he pondered on the events of the evening, the darker grew his thoughts. The girl. The girl with impossibly fair hair and turquoise eyes, at the Temple of Beauty tonight … Who in hell was she?
When Markin, his serving man, had informed him earlier about the new one who’d joined Dr Barnard’s troupe of so-called actresses, and how she resembled the other, Stephen had put it down to Markin’s imagination.
But Markin, whose visage was made sinister by a pale scar, had been, in his way, adamant. Markin had spies everywhere; that was what Stephen paid him for. Markin had seen her himself, he’d told his master, entering the building early this evening to get ready for her first night on stage with the other women. Looking nervous.
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