looked desperate, and that couldn't be good. The moment the carriage pulled to a halt, Lucien opened the door.
He'd rather not be trapped inside the carriage with this woman in her current emotional state. He had the distinct impression that he'd just dealt Miss Bliss an unexpected blow, and it left him feeling like a cad.
Lucien jumped down from the carriage and turned to face her through the open door. "This happens to be a particularly inopportune time for a reporter to visit." He took her hand and helped her step down from the carriage.
As Miss Bliss's foot touched the pavement, she stumbled slightly, and Lucien immediately wrapped his arm around her waist so that she wouldn't fall. As soon as she seemed to be steady on her feet, he withdrew his support.
The door of her stately home flew open and a man who appeared to be her butler hurried outside. Relief washed through Lucien. The sooner he could transfer the care of Miss Bliss to those who could help her, the better.
Despite his obvious concern for his employer, the butler shot Lucien an expression of shocked disapproval. Apparently he wasn't accustomed to seeing his mistress arrive home in the company of a strange man. That only served to confirm Lucien's impression of her as an ingénue.
"Please assist Miss Bliss," Lucien said brusquely, taking a step back to distance himself from her. "She had a fall and hit her head. She might be concussed."
The butler paled and rushed forward to offer his arm for support but Miss Bliss hardly seemed to notice him as she kept her gaze pinned on Lucien.
"Please, Mr. Hamlin. You don't understand," she pleaded. "If I can't visit your casino, I won't be able to write my article."
Lucien frowned as he shook his head. "Under different circumstances I might have allowed you access, but it's not possible right now."
"But you're the owner," she said, looking confused. She pressed her hand against her forehead as though she were suffering from a headache. "Surely you could allow me to visit. You're in charge of everything that happens there."
"That's the point, Miss Bliss. I am in charge." He bowed slightly and touched the brim of his hat. "Good day, Miss Bliss."
Although he'd done the right thing for his casino, that didn't keep him from feeling as though he'd kicked an innocent child. It took a great deal of fortitude for him to ignore Miss Bliss's continued pleading and climb back into his carriage, but he did.
As the carriage moved down the street, the sound of her voice faded in his ears, but it continued to echo in his heart, leaving him feeling like the worthless cur his grandfather had always believed him to be.
7 - Mr. Dickens
Tempy's breathing became labored and it rasped in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. The ground slid under her feet as she hurried down the hill.
Gravel.
Now she could hear it crunching and rattling as bits of it skittered downhill ahead of her, racing her to the large expanse of water below.
The steamship was there, preparing to depart. She knew her father was already on board. Why hadn't he waited for her at the house? Why had he left without her?
Tempy could barely make out his figure as he stood on the deck of the ship and gazed uninterestedly at the shore.
At her.
Still running toward the ship, Tempy threw her hands up and began waving frantically, trying to draw his attention.
At first, Tempy was afraid her father didn't notice her, but then his gaze drifted up to focus on the hill.
On her.
Thank goodness. Father wouldn't let the ship depart without her.
But then she noticed a flurry of movement among the dockworkers. With a jolt of panic, Tempy realized that they were casting off the lines that kept the ship tethered to shore.
"No!" shouted Tempy. "Wait for me!"
Despite her shouts, nobody else on board the ship turned to look at her. Her father's gaze didn't alter. He continued to stand without moving, watching her run toward the
He'd rather not be trapped inside the carriage with this woman in her current emotional state. He had the distinct impression that he'd just dealt Miss Bliss an unexpected blow, and it left him feeling like a cad.
Lucien jumped down from the carriage and turned to face her through the open door. "This happens to be a particularly inopportune time for a reporter to visit." He took her hand and helped her step down from the carriage.
As Miss Bliss's foot touched the pavement, she stumbled slightly, and Lucien immediately wrapped his arm around her waist so that she wouldn't fall. As soon as she seemed to be steady on her feet, he withdrew his support.
The door of her stately home flew open and a man who appeared to be her butler hurried outside. Relief washed through Lucien. The sooner he could transfer the care of Miss Bliss to those who could help her, the better.
Despite his obvious concern for his employer, the butler shot Lucien an expression of shocked disapproval. Apparently he wasn't accustomed to seeing his mistress arrive home in the company of a strange man. That only served to confirm Lucien's impression of her as an ingénue.
"Please assist Miss Bliss," Lucien said brusquely, taking a step back to distance himself from her. "She had a fall and hit her head. She might be concussed."
The butler paled and rushed forward to offer his arm for support but Miss Bliss hardly seemed to notice him as she kept her gaze pinned on Lucien.
"Please, Mr. Hamlin. You don't understand," she pleaded. "If I can't visit your casino, I won't be able to write my article."
Lucien frowned as he shook his head. "Under different circumstances I might have allowed you access, but it's not possible right now."
"But you're the owner," she said, looking confused. She pressed her hand against her forehead as though she were suffering from a headache. "Surely you could allow me to visit. You're in charge of everything that happens there."
"That's the point, Miss Bliss. I am in charge." He bowed slightly and touched the brim of his hat. "Good day, Miss Bliss."
Although he'd done the right thing for his casino, that didn't keep him from feeling as though he'd kicked an innocent child. It took a great deal of fortitude for him to ignore Miss Bliss's continued pleading and climb back into his carriage, but he did.
As the carriage moved down the street, the sound of her voice faded in his ears, but it continued to echo in his heart, leaving him feeling like the worthless cur his grandfather had always believed him to be.
7 - Mr. Dickens
Tempy's breathing became labored and it rasped in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. The ground slid under her feet as she hurried down the hill.
Gravel.
Now she could hear it crunching and rattling as bits of it skittered downhill ahead of her, racing her to the large expanse of water below.
The steamship was there, preparing to depart. She knew her father was already on board. Why hadn't he waited for her at the house? Why had he left without her?
Tempy could barely make out his figure as he stood on the deck of the ship and gazed uninterestedly at the shore.
At her.
Still running toward the ship, Tempy threw her hands up and began waving frantically, trying to draw his attention.
At first, Tempy was afraid her father didn't notice her, but then his gaze drifted up to focus on the hill.
On her.
Thank goodness. Father wouldn't let the ship depart without her.
But then she noticed a flurry of movement among the dockworkers. With a jolt of panic, Tempy realized that they were casting off the lines that kept the ship tethered to shore.
"No!" shouted Tempy. "Wait for me!"
Despite her shouts, nobody else on board the ship turned to look at her. Her father's gaze didn't alter. He continued to stand without moving, watching her run toward the
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