tomorrow morning," she whispered, and he could tell from her tone that she was smiling.
Then she was gone, leaving Max to chuckle to himself, marveling at his good fortune. Perhaps he should have been a gambler like his father—except that he would be lucky.
How fortuitous this visit to London was turning out to be. He had settled on a girl suitable to marry. Fortunately, her wealthy family wanted to see her settled quickly, so they would not quibble at his lack of fortune. In addition, he had discovered he was neighbor to a delightful scamp of a girl, who, if he played his cards right, might end up in his bed for a bit of fun before settling down to dull, married life.
Sometimes the fates did smile on him!
With her first ball under her belt, her mother's worries had eased, and Kate found she had more freedom again. It was not like at home in Ireland, but when she
mentioned that she wanted to go shopping with only Dolly for company, her mother had not quibbled over the proposed expedition, only mentioning that she had promised to drive in the park with her and her aunt at five o'clock.
Their first stop took them to Layton and Shears, the drapers on Henrietta Street, for some new ribbons to refurbish the gown she had worn the previous evening. Her mother insisted that Kate must do something to make it appear different, or she would be considered sadly out of fashion. She debated on blue or ivory, and finally chose the blue.
From there, they went to Nicholay's Fur and Feather Manufactory to purchase two ostrich plumes for one of her mother's headdresses. Finally, they arrived at Hatchards, number 187 Piccadilly, for the latest novels.
Dolly sat on a bench by the front door while Kate perused the shelves. She selected two novels and took them to the clerk at the front desk. The young man sat on his tall stool, his nose in a book, oblivious to everything around him. Kate cleared her throat. Finally, she tapped the counter, and the young man jumped.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, miss!" he exclaimed, his voice squeaking and his face turning red.
"That's all right," she replied, smiling at him. "You were so engrossed, I hated to disturb you."
"Oh, please, miss, you will not tell Mr. Goforth, will you?"
"Certainly not. I am no tattler," she replied. Then, picking up the book he had put down, she asked, "What are you reading that made you forget where you were?"
"It... it is a new novel, by someone named Mr. Poorman."
"I don't think I have heard of it before. Might I like it?"
"Oh, I don't know, miss. It's not like these two that you have selected. It is all about knights and adventures. There is only one girl in it."
"But the tale is well written?" asked Kate.
"Yes, miss. One of the best I have read yet."
"Do you have another copy of it? For I would not wish to purchase this one and deprive you of the pleasure of finishing it."
"Yes, miss, I have another right here. And these two?"
"Yes, please," said Kate, opening her reticule. Books were one of the luxuries she allowed herself. She often spent the evening reading to her mother, with Dolly nearby drinking in every word. This Mr. Poorman's novel might not appeal to her delicate mother, but it certainly did to her.
When Kate and Dolly arrived home, she went straight to her room. Not bothering to change, she opened the novel. The very first line grabbed her interest as she read, " 'We will take the castle and save the damsel, even if she does not wish to be saved!' said Sir Milton."
Her excitement mounting, Kate began to read, her breath catching in her throat when the damsel turned out to be named Iseult. Almost panting, she frowned and set the book aside. Coincidence? How likely was it that her neighbor, the average Mr. Tristram Darby, would have chosen to call himself Sir Milton and to call her Iseult? It was impossible! thought Kate, picking up the book again. As incredible as it seemed, Tristram Darby had to be the author of this novel. She read another page and
Then she was gone, leaving Max to chuckle to himself, marveling at his good fortune. Perhaps he should have been a gambler like his father—except that he would be lucky.
How fortuitous this visit to London was turning out to be. He had settled on a girl suitable to marry. Fortunately, her wealthy family wanted to see her settled quickly, so they would not quibble at his lack of fortune. In addition, he had discovered he was neighbor to a delightful scamp of a girl, who, if he played his cards right, might end up in his bed for a bit of fun before settling down to dull, married life.
Sometimes the fates did smile on him!
With her first ball under her belt, her mother's worries had eased, and Kate found she had more freedom again. It was not like at home in Ireland, but when she
mentioned that she wanted to go shopping with only Dolly for company, her mother had not quibbled over the proposed expedition, only mentioning that she had promised to drive in the park with her and her aunt at five o'clock.
Their first stop took them to Layton and Shears, the drapers on Henrietta Street, for some new ribbons to refurbish the gown she had worn the previous evening. Her mother insisted that Kate must do something to make it appear different, or she would be considered sadly out of fashion. She debated on blue or ivory, and finally chose the blue.
From there, they went to Nicholay's Fur and Feather Manufactory to purchase two ostrich plumes for one of her mother's headdresses. Finally, they arrived at Hatchards, number 187 Piccadilly, for the latest novels.
Dolly sat on a bench by the front door while Kate perused the shelves. She selected two novels and took them to the clerk at the front desk. The young man sat on his tall stool, his nose in a book, oblivious to everything around him. Kate cleared her throat. Finally, she tapped the counter, and the young man jumped.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, miss!" he exclaimed, his voice squeaking and his face turning red.
"That's all right," she replied, smiling at him. "You were so engrossed, I hated to disturb you."
"Oh, please, miss, you will not tell Mr. Goforth, will you?"
"Certainly not. I am no tattler," she replied. Then, picking up the book he had put down, she asked, "What are you reading that made you forget where you were?"
"It... it is a new novel, by someone named Mr. Poorman."
"I don't think I have heard of it before. Might I like it?"
"Oh, I don't know, miss. It's not like these two that you have selected. It is all about knights and adventures. There is only one girl in it."
"But the tale is well written?" asked Kate.
"Yes, miss. One of the best I have read yet."
"Do you have another copy of it? For I would not wish to purchase this one and deprive you of the pleasure of finishing it."
"Yes, miss, I have another right here. And these two?"
"Yes, please," said Kate, opening her reticule. Books were one of the luxuries she allowed herself. She often spent the evening reading to her mother, with Dolly nearby drinking in every word. This Mr. Poorman's novel might not appeal to her delicate mother, but it certainly did to her.
When Kate and Dolly arrived home, she went straight to her room. Not bothering to change, she opened the novel. The very first line grabbed her interest as she read, " 'We will take the castle and save the damsel, even if she does not wish to be saved!' said Sir Milton."
Her excitement mounting, Kate began to read, her breath catching in her throat when the damsel turned out to be named Iseult. Almost panting, she frowned and set the book aside. Coincidence? How likely was it that her neighbor, the average Mr. Tristram Darby, would have chosen to call himself Sir Milton and to call her Iseult? It was impossible! thought Kate, picking up the book again. As incredible as it seemed, Tristram Darby had to be the author of this novel. She read another page and
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