Tears of the Nile

Paris, 1806

“I can suggest mercury pills,” said Alexandre. He amazed at the wonderful control of his emotions. He congratulated himself on his professionalism. “I can write you a prescription. It will be ready this evening.”

Esme stood by the window, her figure silhouetted against the gray Parisian sky. Her dress, a finely stitched garment of soft blues and subtle creams, lay unbuttoned at her back…