Chapter FourteenI will not dwell on the remainder of that night. I will only say that I returned to Thistle Street in tears, with one shoe missing, and my hair a-tangle under my broken hat.
Mrs Macfarlane nodded. 'The night did not go well, then. Come with me, Miss Flockhart,' she brought me into the drawing room and poured me a large glass of claret. 'This may help.'
I stared at her, saying nothing as my mind turned somersaults.
'Where is the elegant Captain?'
I shook my head, holding the glass in shaking hands.
'Drink,' Mrs Macfarlane lifted my hand, so the glass pressed to my lips. 'Did he misuse you, Miss Flockhart?'
I shook my head again.
'There's been bad work though,' Mrs Macfarlane nearly poured the claret down my throat. 'Bad work.' She grunted. 'Will you be seeing Captain
