Chapter 14: Florence

June, 1812

Come the evening he instructed Mr. Muir and left the ship in his gig. There were several hackney cabs near the pier waiting for business and he selected the best looking one.

“Good ev’ning, Cap’n. Be of help?”

“My good man, whereto in this city do you drive officers who are ... out for a night of entertainment?”

A sly smile appeared on the man’s face.

“Corbley’s Revue Theatre, Sir, is where the prettiest doxies are. It’s a bit on the pricey side, nothing for the likes of me, but it’s where I bring the captains and such.”

“Well then, Corbley’s Revue it is,” Thomas said lightly.

It was still light and Thomas watched the route they were taking. The horse was none too strong or swift, but it was not far to his destination either. Stepping from the cab, Thomas paid the driver and looked at the place. He could tell from the outside, that this was a place where he would find only well-off men. The doorman scrutinised him when he approached, probably noticed the quality of coat, stockings and shoes, the quality of the sword, and the two epaulettes with anchors on his shoulders that identified him as a Navy captain of less than three years seniority.

Obviously, Thomas passed the inspection for the man held the door to the establishment open for him. He found himself in an entrance hall with sweeping stairs on both sides leading up to galleries. A man in gentleman’s attire approached him.

“Good evening, Captain. I am James Corbley, owner of this theatre and at your service. With whom do I have the honour?”

“Captain Thomas Grey, of the Dido frigate.”

“Sixth rate, 28 guns,” Corbley nodded. “You brought in quite a passel of prizes, Captain.”

“Yes, our squadron had a lucky week,” Thomas answered with assumed calmness. “I heard that your establishment provides quality entertainment for gentlemen, and I am in the mood to celebrate.”

“Then you have come to the right place, my dear Captain. Since this is your first evening here, I should probably make you aware of our rules. Our fee for an evening is £4 for guests in the pit or £6 for a private balcony. The fees include food and wine, the revue acts, and the attention of our ladies. Of course, you may feel free to reward them additionally at your discretion.”

Thomas nodded, trying bravely to control his features. That was quite a bit more expensive than a quick roll in an upstairs cot above a harbour tavern. Yet, he could afford it, and perhaps he should start to get some enjoyment out of the monies he’d made.

“I’ll have a balcony then,” he declared casually.

“Excellent, Captain! Let me show you the way then. Up the stairs here, mind the step, and now to the left.”

The balcony was just that. It was closed on three sides, and the balustrade was more than waist high, obviously to shield the visitors against curious eyes from other balconies. Down in the pit were numerous tables where gentlemen were dining and being served by young wenches dressed in gaily coloured dresses.

Mr. Corbley now clapped his hands, and six young women appeared. Their hair colours ranged from red and blonde to jet black, and their skin tones from pale white to milk coffee tan. They were all uncommonly pretty and quite young, and they wore dresses that complemented their personal colours. Thomas knew that his eyes were bugging out from his head over this bouquet of female beauty.

“I would ask you now to select one of these lovelies as your companion for the evening,” Corbley said with an indulging smile.

Thomas had settled his eyes on a lovely Creole girl with a trim body, proud and pointy breasts, a wide smile and a skin like coffee and cream.

“What would be your name, young Miss?” he asked.

“Florence, Sir,” the girl answered with a hint of a French accent and a shy smile.

“Well, Florence, will you spend this evening with me?”

She shrugged, but she smiled. “Of course, Sir.”

“Then let me help you to a chair, Florence,” Thomas smiled back, holding a chair for her. She sat gracefully and Thomas sat across from her.

“I shall send up my waiter, Captain. Please let me know if anything is not to your absolute satisfaction.”

Thomas looked at Florence and smiled. “A small chance of that, Mr. Corbley, but thank you.”

Corbley left them alone then, but before Thomas had a chance to talk to the girl, there was a knock on the door and a waiter appeared.

“Do you wish to dine, Sir?” he asked with a bow.

Thomas looked at the girl who smiled shyly and nodded. He looked at the waiter again.

“That would be appreciated. No soup though. It’s summer after all.”

The waiter nodded. “We have a small pastry of chicken and peas as first course, a choice of beef or pork roast with thick gravy as the main course, and fresh strawberries with cream as dessert.”

“Miss Florence, would you prefer pork or beef?”

She looked quizzically at him. “You captains of the Mediterranean fleet always go for pork and fresh potatoes. I’ll have pork.”

“Pork it is then,” Thomas concluded. The waiter left and Thomas looked at the pretty girl sitting across from him. “Do you know why we like to have pork?”

She nodded and her curly hair danced. “You get fresh provisions from the Barbary coast and there’s only beef to be had.”

“You know entirely too much about the Navy for a young and innocent girl,” Thomas said with a sad face. “You must have consorted with sailors before.”

Florence giggled. “Oh, but I’ve only listened to their tales. My dear mother would not allow me to be alone with them.”

“Right. And today is your first day here at Corbley’s?”

“Oh, yes. Circumstances dictated that dreadful decision, and now I shall be a fallen woman!”

“A sad tale to be sure, and worthy of being written down for the moral betterment of young ladies,” Thomas grinned, causing Florence to giggle. She looked lovely in the soft light from the oil lamp above. “Where do you hail from, my pretty Florence?”

“The island of Martinique. My mother married an English lieutenant and he moved us to Plymouth. Then his ship was lost leaving us without support.” She shrugged. “My mother had made a living before and she quickly found work again. She’s over there on the second balcony from the left.”

Thomas’s eyes followed her pointed finger, and he saw a beautiful Creole woman with an older gentleman.

“It’s Admiral James McCauley. He’s a widower and he always demands Mum when he’s here.” Florence giggled again. “He’d be off cheaper if he just took her in.”

“Are you getting a share of the fees?”

Florence nodded. “Six shillings down in the pit, ten in the balconies. It’s good money and Mr. Corbley is good at watching out for bad people who want to hurt girls.”

“I imagine that can be a problem. Don’t worry on account of me. I’d sit here all evening watching you and consider my money well spent.”

He was rewarded with a beaming smile of full lips and white, perfect teeth.

“You, Captain, are a sweet talker. My mum warned me about sweet talkers.”

“Why?”

Her smile vanished. “They make you feel like you’re a real girl, and then they leave and you know you’re nothing but a whore.”

Quickly, he took her hand and kissed it. “You are a real girl. You are witty, gay and so pretty that a man cannot but stare at you.”

“But you wouldn’t be seen with me in public,” she said sadly.

“I certainly would. Will you be free tomorrow afternoon?”

“Why?”

“So we can have a stroll and then enjoy tea in one of those fancy parlours.”

She scrunched her nose which looked very cute. “I’ll have to go through my dresses to find one I can wear in a tea parlour. Oh, wait! This is not an attempt to make you pay for one! I am sure I can find something.”

“Shall I pick you up here, or where do you live?”

“Here is better.” She smiled. “You wouldn’t want me to show up where you live either.”

“Well, I have a Marine sentry at my door and of course you’d need a boat.”

“I mean, where you live when you’re not sailing in a ship.”

“I left home when I was sixteen, and I’ve been back but once over four years ago. I’ve not seen my family in over three years. We live near Guildford by the way.”

“You’ve no bride?”

“No. My mother tried to pick one for me, but the girl married a general. She had higher aspirations than a mere commander, and she was entirely too pretty to be left at home for years.”

There was a knock, and the waiter and two helpers entered with their dinner. They set the table and placed the covered food on the side.

“Thank you, Frederick,” Florence said. “I shall serve the Captain.”

“Of course, Miss Florence,” the waiter said politely.

Thomas remembered in time to hand the man a half crown before he withdrew. Florence then took it upon herself to serve the first dish whilst Thomas busied himself pouring white wine into their glasses. Once they sat, he raised his glass.

“To a memorable evening!”

Florence smiled and nodded, clinking her glass against his and sipping of the wine. Thomas tried it too and found little to complain. The chicken pastries were delicious he found, with tender meat and elaborately spiced. At the very least, he would receive an excellent dinner for his money.

Florence ate with a good appetite and polished off her plate in short time. Seeing his astonished look, she smiled sheepishly.