Page 5 of The Dawn

I opened the box, pulled out a second cigarette, and lit it while watchin’ the lass open the windows.

Then I looked around at the furnishings, the upholstered chairs, the long, heavy draperies, and the woven rugs. This was a well-appointed room for the time, a fine brothel. And close tae Richmond. I scheduled many of m’meetings here, because I rather liked the lawlessness of the age.

Yet the heat was unbearable, I needed tae remember tae check the weather before I arrived.

I drew in a long drag... There were drawbacks tae the time of course, lack of air conditionin’ being one of them, but the men were on the cusp of greatness and the colonies had just begun their revolution. I felt invigorated by the impending war and relished the novelty.

I flicked ashes ontae the rug as Jim sheepishly came down the stairs, tucking his shirt intae his breeches, running a hand through his hair. He looked damp from exertion, and ashamed of havin’ kept me waiting.

Good.

I said, “I will give ye a moment tae get yer coat on.”

“Oh, of course, I took it off because of the heat.”

I nodded and settled my gaze on his face through the smoke that I had exhaled around my head.

He pulled his coat on, verra nervously, sweat blooming on his upper lip. He dinna use tae be so nervous, but he had likely heard what I had done tae his predecessor.

Jim settled in the settee, placed a leather portfolio on the table, unzipped it, and began spreading out papers.

The oil lamp on the table dinna do much tae beat back the darkness, yet I could see a drip of sweat roll down his temple.

I said, “I will need more light.”

“Of course, my apologies, sire.” He jumped up, went tae the hall, and returned with a battery-powered lantern. He put it on the table and turned it on, emitting a bright light around the room.

He sat back down and returned tae goin’ through his papers.

The brothel-keep entered with a bottle of whisky. “Welcome back, sire, your room is prepared upstairs.”

“Good, good.”

“Would you want a top-off of your glass, sire?”

I nodded. He refilled my glass, and left.

I sipped the whisky. “Ye dinna even take one minute, Jim, tae mention the locale — are ye enjoyin’ yer visit? Ye time-traveled, are ye havin’ a fine experience?”

He looked startled. “Oh, um, yes, sire.” He leaned back against the pillows of the settee, his knee jigglin’ nervously. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity, and this is a fine land... though I must say it is... very hot.”

“Ye are visitin’ the American colonies, surrounded by the enlightened men of the Revolution, and ye’re complainin’ about the heat?”

“My apologies, sire.”

I called down the hall, “Brothel-keep!”

He entered. “Yes, sire?”

“Send in the last lass tae fan me.”

He rushed away and a moment later a harlot with a wicker fan stood beside m’chair, fannin’ my face. The exertion caused her breasts tae quiver delightfully.

I inhaled more cigarette. “I daena ken, Jim, I find the temperature tae be verra fine.”

Another bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he watched the lass fan me.

I said, “What are ye lookin’ at?”

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