An Experienced Mistress by Bryn Donovan

a liaison, Will purchased a tin of preventative sheaths, or “French safes” as they were labeled. They were the newer variety, made of Goodyear rubber. Several of his fellow soldiers in Crimea had contracted diseases from the prostitutes there, and the memory of that made Will all the more cautious.
    He was not only cautious about disease. To father a child out of wedlock would have been shameful, and he couldn’t imagine how miserable such a situation might be for Miss Bell. He’d heard that women like her had their own ways of preventing pregnancies, but in such a serious matter, Will preferred to be certain.
    Of course, given the frustrating nature of their first encounter, he hadn’t needed to concern himself with such things.
    He hoped she wouldn’t string things out too long. Didn’t she understand that he hadn’t been with a woman for more than two years?
    “Well, here is to new adventures.” Coventry raised the glass toward Will before drinking again. “And doubtless she will be an adventure. Some of the stories I’ve heard about that Pre-Raphaelite set...”
    “What kind of stories?”
    His friend raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Oh, well, who knows if they’re true. But in any case, I imagine she’ll be quite the original thinker.”
    She certainly was original, though not in the way Coventry intended. “From our first conversation, I would say she is definitely that.”
    Soon the mutton chops and all their accoutrements arrived, and Coventry filled Will in on the news of the people they knew. The friends were finishing their meal when a stout older man came to their table.
    “It’s young Mr. Creighton, is it not?” he said, peering down and adjusting his spectacles on his nose. Will looked up to see Mr. Tudbury, Violet’s father.
    Damn it! What if Violet chose to confide in him about the ridiculous secret engagement? Will disliked to discuss that in front of Coventry. Or discuss it at all, for that matter.
    Mr. Tudbury was the last man he wanted to see.
    Will stood up and shook the man’s hand. “I am delighted to see you, sir.” Coventry, who knew Mr. Tudbury as a fellow Club member, got to his feet and said good evening as well.
    It would have been customary for the older man to say a few words and then go away. But he said nothing, and he did not go away. All Will thought of to say under the circumstances, much as he hated to say it, was, “Won’t you sit down and join us?”
    “Thank you, I shall.” The gentleman lowered himself stiffly into the chair, making a harsh sound in the back of his throat as he settled. He fumbled in the pockets of his coat and produced a cigar. “Can I interest either of you fellows in a smoke?”
    They declined. “I think I will order us some port, though,” Coventry added politely. “You will want some, won’t you, Mr. Tudbury?”
    “Yes, excellent.” The older man lit the cigar, but before he took a puff, he succumbed to a violent bout of coughing and hacking. Will knew he was prone to this.
    “Are you all right, sir?” Coventry asked, his expression concerned.
    “Yes, yes,” Mr. Tudbury, now red-faced, managed to say. He cleared his throat again and swallowed in a gulp. Then he sucked on the cigar.
    “It’s just an affliction I inherited from my father, the coughing that is,” he explained after he exhaled a cloud of pungent smoke. “Smoking’s the only thing that helps it, you know.” He turned to Will and clapped him on the shoulder. “So, how does it feel to be back?”
    “Excellent, sir.”
    “You seem so much older than I remember! But then, it has been a long time since you were in knee-breeches.” He gave an amused wheeze. “I recall when you were climbing my trees, and you got in trouble for throwing cherries at my Violet. Do you remember that, Willy?”
    “Vividly,” Will said. His father had taken him home and horsewhipped him.
    “I understand you paid my daughter and her new husband a visit the other day. That was very