The pistol fell to the floor. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over there in the city? They had come up on the same boat. “Last time I saw you,” he reminded her, “you spoke, did you not, of obtaining some employment in London.
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