Read Online And Then He Kissed Her by Laura Lee Guhrke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Lee Guhrke
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fourteen days would have given her too much time to think things over, too much time to talk herself out of her decision and let Marlowe talk her into staying. Now it was Monday, he had the letter, and there was no going back.
This was the dawn of a new day, and a new Emma Dove. Never again was she going to sit by while life went on around her. Never again was she going to wait for fate to hand her what she wanted. From now on, she was going to reach out and grab her dreams and not let go.
She had never been more scared in her life.
“Miss Dove?”
She looked up. The clerk she had spoken with upon her arrival was standing by the stairs, waiting for her. “Follow me.”
Emma rose to her feet, trying to quell the jittery quivers in her tummy. One arm wrapped around her manuscripts, she followed the clerk up the stairs and into a reception room, where another man, clearly a secretary, was seated behind a desk. The clerk departed, and the secretary stood up. He gestured to an open doorway behind his desk. “You may go in, miss.”
She stared at the doorway for a moment, then took a deep breath and stepped past the secretary into a large office every bit as expensively furnished as Marlowe’s, though perhaps it was abit too overcrowded to be a truly efficient place to work.
“Miss Dove?” A tall, exceptionally handsome man came around his desk and walked toward her, smiling. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”
“At last, sir?” She watched in astonishment as he bent over her hand and kissed it.
“Everyone around Fleet Street knows of Marlowe’s extraordinary female secretary. I’ve heard a great deal about you, Miss Dove,” he added, retaining her hand in his, “and all of it has been complimentary.”
Emma was growing more astonished by the moment. “I wish I could say the same,” she murmured, “but though I have heard a great deal about you from Lord Marlowe, sir, none of it has been complimentary.”
Lord Barringer threw back his head and laughed. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
Chapter 5
When it comes to women, a gentleman must learn to expect the unexpected. It’s what so often happens.
Lord Marlowe
The Bachelor’s Guide, 1893
M iss Dove’s lodgings were in Holborn, where blocks of flats formed a respectable neighborhood along Little Russell Street. Harry paused in front of number 32, a tidy brick building with lace curtains. A small, hand-painted sign in the window declared that a parlor flat was available to be let, but only to women of good character. A pair of potted red geraniums flanked a freshly painted door of dark green. The door’s brass knocker and handle gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight.
Just the sort of place where a paragon like MissDove would live , he thought as he entered the building. The foyer seemed a bit dark after the brightness outside, but the pleasant scent of lemon soap told him the inside was as pristine as the outside. As his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he could see that to his left was a parlor. To his right, a staircase with a wrought-iron railing curved upward, forming a sort of alcove where there was a large oak desk. Behind it, on the staircase wall, numbered cubicles held messages and letters for the tenants.
No landlady or servant seemed to be about, but Harry needed no assistance. He confirmed the number of Miss Dove’s flat from the cubicles on the wall, then ascended the steps to the fourth floor and emerged onto a landing where the doors to flats 11 and 12 stood opposite each other and another set of stairs led to the roof.
Behind number 12, he heard the familiar rhythmic tap of a typewriting machine. When he knocked, the typing stopped, and a few moments later the door opened.
“Lord Marlowe?” She seemed surprised to see him, though why she should be surprised, he had no idea. She must have known the impact her sudden departure would have. Even if she didn’t appreciate the havoc that had ensued after her departure, Harry
This was the dawn of a new day, and a new Emma Dove. Never again was she going to sit by while life went on around her. Never again was she going to wait for fate to hand her what she wanted. From now on, she was going to reach out and grab her dreams and not let go.
She had never been more scared in her life.
“Miss Dove?”
She looked up. The clerk she had spoken with upon her arrival was standing by the stairs, waiting for her. “Follow me.”
Emma rose to her feet, trying to quell the jittery quivers in her tummy. One arm wrapped around her manuscripts, she followed the clerk up the stairs and into a reception room, where another man, clearly a secretary, was seated behind a desk. The clerk departed, and the secretary stood up. He gestured to an open doorway behind his desk. “You may go in, miss.”
She stared at the doorway for a moment, then took a deep breath and stepped past the secretary into a large office every bit as expensively furnished as Marlowe’s, though perhaps it was abit too overcrowded to be a truly efficient place to work.
“Miss Dove?” A tall, exceptionally handsome man came around his desk and walked toward her, smiling. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”
“At last, sir?” She watched in astonishment as he bent over her hand and kissed it.
“Everyone around Fleet Street knows of Marlowe’s extraordinary female secretary. I’ve heard a great deal about you, Miss Dove,” he added, retaining her hand in his, “and all of it has been complimentary.”
Emma was growing more astonished by the moment. “I wish I could say the same,” she murmured, “but though I have heard a great deal about you from Lord Marlowe, sir, none of it has been complimentary.”
Lord Barringer threw back his head and laughed. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
Chapter 5
When it comes to women, a gentleman must learn to expect the unexpected. It’s what so often happens.
Lord Marlowe
The Bachelor’s Guide, 1893
M iss Dove’s lodgings were in Holborn, where blocks of flats formed a respectable neighborhood along Little Russell Street. Harry paused in front of number 32, a tidy brick building with lace curtains. A small, hand-painted sign in the window declared that a parlor flat was available to be let, but only to women of good character. A pair of potted red geraniums flanked a freshly painted door of dark green. The door’s brass knocker and handle gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight.
Just the sort of place where a paragon like MissDove would live , he thought as he entered the building. The foyer seemed a bit dark after the brightness outside, but the pleasant scent of lemon soap told him the inside was as pristine as the outside. As his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he could see that to his left was a parlor. To his right, a staircase with a wrought-iron railing curved upward, forming a sort of alcove where there was a large oak desk. Behind it, on the staircase wall, numbered cubicles held messages and letters for the tenants.
No landlady or servant seemed to be about, but Harry needed no assistance. He confirmed the number of Miss Dove’s flat from the cubicles on the wall, then ascended the steps to the fourth floor and emerged onto a landing where the doors to flats 11 and 12 stood opposite each other and another set of stairs led to the roof.
Behind number 12, he heard the familiar rhythmic tap of a typewriting machine. When he knocked, the typing stopped, and a few moments later the door opened.
“Lord Marlowe?” She seemed surprised to see him, though why she should be surprised, he had no idea. She must have known the impact her sudden departure would have. Even if she didn’t appreciate the havoc that had ensued after her departure, Harry
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