Sparhawk's Lady [antikvár]

ProloguePortsmouth, England May 1787With growing panic, Caroline Harris stared at her reflection in the mirror as her mother's maid tied the sash at her waist. Soon it would be time to leave the ladies' retiring room and join the gentlemen in the salon, and then it would be too late.Why, why was there never enough money?"I can't do this, Mama," she whispered hoarsely. "I know you say we've no choice, but I can't. I can't.""You can, and you will," snapped her mother with the angry irritation that Caroline had come to know too well these past two weeks. "You're all I have left to me, girl, and I won't die a pauper."Caroline nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. If she cried, she would be cuffed. She'd learned that lesson quickly enough. Tears would make her eyes red and puffy, and then no gentleman would want her.