exactly will you be selling in your store?"
Sarah gestured toward her baggy trousers. "Bloomer costumes." She reached into her reticule and withdrew an advertising handbill with drawings and literature about the garments she intended to manufacture, and offered it to De Cosmos. "I'll also be selling an array of overtunics and shirtwaisters similar to these."
De Cosmos studied the handbill, fingers stroking his beard. A hint of amusement lifted one corner of his mouth. After a few moments, he eyed her costume again, this time more blatantly. "Bloomers," he mused, quietly and introspectively. "May I have this handbill?"
Sarah shrugged. "Yes. I have more."
"Have you a name for your business?"
"Sarah Ashley's Fashions," she replied.
"Splendid." His mouth curved in a rueful smile. "I have an idea which will help your cause, and mine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to work." He opened the door for her to leave. Although Sarah wanted to learn more about what he had in mind, she realized she was being dismissed. She left the office, praising her good fortune in coming to see Amor De Cosmos. But once on the street, a vague uneasiness began to creep over her.
She'd come to Victoria to start a new life where she could escape the gossip of scandalmongers. She'd also come to elude her stepbrothers. Now, she prayed that issues raised by the Colonist would remain in Victoria, that none would turn up in San Francisco and find their way into Hollis's awareness. There was also the matter of when the editorial would come out—she'd neglected to ask—and where she'd be living at that time. The thought that she might still be a guest in the Cromwell house when the editorial attack on Jon was released brought gooseflesh rising on her arms, and a lump of dread lodging in her throat.
Absorbed in thought, she was surprised to find the coach stopping at the legislature building. Rapping on the window, she said, "Why are we stopping here?"
"Governor's orders," the coachman replied.
Sarah fumed as she saw Jon lunge down the steps and stride toward the coach. He'd planned this, sent word to his coachman to return for him so she'd be trapped in the coach, and she didn't want to face him so soon after their recent confrontation, especially now, knowing what Mr. De Cosmos had in store for him.
Jon swung up into the coach and settled beside her, sitting so close their shoulders rubbed as the vehicle moved along the uneven road. She attempted to ease away, but Jon managed to wedge her snugly between himself and the side panel of the coach. He gave her an ironic smile. "You left your papers," he said, offering her the bundle.
Sarah looked at the wad of papers she'd left on the bench in the legislature building, then snatched them from Jon's hand and said, "I fail to see what good they'll do, since what they require is unobtainable."
Jon tipped his head toward her. "May I offer you a suggestion?"
"Regardless of what I say, I'm certain you will, anyway," Sarah replied.
Jon leaned so close his lips almost touched her ear, as he said, "Why don't you find someone who will love and cherish and care for you so you won't have to concern yourself with the affairs of a man's world?"
Sarah tipped her head away from his lips, and replied, "No one, not even a council of provincial popinjays, will deny me the right to follow my pursuit, and I choose to manufacture ladies' wear. That being my goal, I shall not be deterred from—"
Jon raised a finger and touched it to her lips. "I'm certain that no one, not even a council of provincial popinjays, could possible deter you, Miss Ashley, but maybe this will, at least momentarily." He covered her mouth with his in a long, lingering kiss. When her hand came up to protest, he grabbed it and held it firmly against his chest until she ceased struggling. For the moment, she was too distracted by the feel of his lips on hers to do anything but let out a little moan of disapproval. Then to her surprise, he
Sarah gestured toward her baggy trousers. "Bloomer costumes." She reached into her reticule and withdrew an advertising handbill with drawings and literature about the garments she intended to manufacture, and offered it to De Cosmos. "I'll also be selling an array of overtunics and shirtwaisters similar to these."
De Cosmos studied the handbill, fingers stroking his beard. A hint of amusement lifted one corner of his mouth. After a few moments, he eyed her costume again, this time more blatantly. "Bloomers," he mused, quietly and introspectively. "May I have this handbill?"
Sarah shrugged. "Yes. I have more."
"Have you a name for your business?"
"Sarah Ashley's Fashions," she replied.
"Splendid." His mouth curved in a rueful smile. "I have an idea which will help your cause, and mine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to work." He opened the door for her to leave. Although Sarah wanted to learn more about what he had in mind, she realized she was being dismissed. She left the office, praising her good fortune in coming to see Amor De Cosmos. But once on the street, a vague uneasiness began to creep over her.
She'd come to Victoria to start a new life where she could escape the gossip of scandalmongers. She'd also come to elude her stepbrothers. Now, she prayed that issues raised by the Colonist would remain in Victoria, that none would turn up in San Francisco and find their way into Hollis's awareness. There was also the matter of when the editorial would come out—she'd neglected to ask—and where she'd be living at that time. The thought that she might still be a guest in the Cromwell house when the editorial attack on Jon was released brought gooseflesh rising on her arms, and a lump of dread lodging in her throat.
Absorbed in thought, she was surprised to find the coach stopping at the legislature building. Rapping on the window, she said, "Why are we stopping here?"
"Governor's orders," the coachman replied.
Sarah fumed as she saw Jon lunge down the steps and stride toward the coach. He'd planned this, sent word to his coachman to return for him so she'd be trapped in the coach, and she didn't want to face him so soon after their recent confrontation, especially now, knowing what Mr. De Cosmos had in store for him.
Jon swung up into the coach and settled beside her, sitting so close their shoulders rubbed as the vehicle moved along the uneven road. She attempted to ease away, but Jon managed to wedge her snugly between himself and the side panel of the coach. He gave her an ironic smile. "You left your papers," he said, offering her the bundle.
Sarah looked at the wad of papers she'd left on the bench in the legislature building, then snatched them from Jon's hand and said, "I fail to see what good they'll do, since what they require is unobtainable."
Jon tipped his head toward her. "May I offer you a suggestion?"
"Regardless of what I say, I'm certain you will, anyway," Sarah replied.
Jon leaned so close his lips almost touched her ear, as he said, "Why don't you find someone who will love and cherish and care for you so you won't have to concern yourself with the affairs of a man's world?"
Sarah tipped her head away from his lips, and replied, "No one, not even a council of provincial popinjays, will deny me the right to follow my pursuit, and I choose to manufacture ladies' wear. That being my goal, I shall not be deterred from—"
Jon raised a finger and touched it to her lips. "I'm certain that no one, not even a council of provincial popinjays, could possible deter you, Miss Ashley, but maybe this will, at least momentarily." He covered her mouth with his in a long, lingering kiss. When her hand came up to protest, he grabbed it and held it firmly against his chest until she ceased struggling. For the moment, she was too distracted by the feel of his lips on hers to do anything but let out a little moan of disapproval. Then to her surprise, he
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