However, two hours later when she still stood in the same place, with her hands clasped firmly in front of her, the mood of the men and women around her had changed to contempt, overlaid with a veneer of politeness, worn as thin as her remaining patience. She was alone because there was no one else to count on, no one else to do what must be done to save her family. She had sent the hackney away because she could not afford to keep it waiting for her. Clearly she was a lady, where was her escort? Why was she here? Did she have anything of value?
Originally, the looks had been simply curious. The longer she stood looking at the ship berthed in front of her, the more lecherous the stares became. Stupidly she had thought that her presence might go unnoticed. Despite the earliness of the hour, and the crowded bustle of the dock, Beatrice Hennessey stood out like, well, like the notorious rakehell Lord Sebastian Hawkestone, Marquis of Coldhurst, would stand out in a nunnery.
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