Read Online The Abolitionist’s Secret by Becky Lower - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Becky Lower
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better?”
“She is lonely, bored, depressed, and just generally awful,” Heather smiled. “She’s attempting to make me feel bad since Mother insists I’m going to continue on through the season without her.” Heather sighed. “It must be hard for her to watch, but I have to admit, I’m rather enjoying it.” She glanced over, and David caught the twinkle in her eyes. “Is it awful of me to say that?”
He laughed. “I think it’s delightful. I’m quite certain if the situation was reversed, she wouldn’t waste any time leaving your side to get to the next ball.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. And, she’s furious that I’m spending time with you, since she blames you for her mishap.”
“I think that blame is misplaced. She should be finding fault with her cobbler.”
“Ah yes, Philippe. The handsome Frenchman who had all the fashionable ladies swooning this past winter. I wonder how his reputation is holding up, now that everyone knows it was his attempt at cleverness that caused Jasmine’s broken ankle.”
They rode on, talking quietly about the Cotillion and discussing the musical they were planning to attend later in the week at Buckley’s Opera House. At the park, they ran into one person after another who needed to be acknowledged, so their conversation thread kept getting cut. Heather introduced David multiple times as a family friend. After about a half hour of riding, David steered them to a remote gazebo tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the park’s main thoroughfare, and under the shade of the tallest tree in the park. He stopped his horse and dismounted, then assisted Heather in getting down.
“What are we doing?” She asked, excitedly.
“Come, take a look.” He tied their horses to the gazebo railing, took her hand and led her up the steps to the center of the structure. There, laid out and ready, was a luncheon feast for two. “I had the hotel where I’m staying put together a picnic lunch for us. Are you hungry?”
“Famished. Thank you, Lieutenant, for your thoughtfulness.” Heather’s eyes gleamed as she took a seat on the cloth where the food was laid. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in the sweet scent of the grass around them, the wonderful aroma of the food before them, and the manly smell of starch and sandlewood emanating from David, sitting close beside her. A shiver bolted up her spine. Perhaps he was sitting a bit too close for comfort.
• • •
Heather ate as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks, quickly downing a hefty sandwich piled high with thick slices of roast beef topped with horseradish and lettuce. Complementing the sandwich was a wedge of cheese and some fruit. David popped open a bottle of red wine and filled their glasses. She smiled as she thought of David ordering this meal for them at the hotel. No cucumber sandwiches for him! As her hunger waned, she looked up at David. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant. A proper young lady never shows her hunger. She’s supposed to eat like a bird in front of a gentleman.”
“And why is that, do you think?”
“I, uh, I suppose it’s to show that we won’t be such a burden to them once we marry, as we won’t eat a lot. I’ve never really thought much about it before.”
“Well, have you given any thought to what proper young ladies are supposed to do when faced with a public kiss?” David asked with a smile as he moved closer to her.
“Of course, sir. We’re to turn away in horror, and smack the gentleman with our fans.” Her stomach was performing acrobatics, which Heather knew was not the result of having eaten too quickly. David took her chin in his hand and swooped in for a kiss before Heather could further object.
“Then I deserve a lashing from your fan,” he drawled as he kissed her again. In response, she pulled back slightly.
“Lieutenant, you are taking far too many liberties with me.”
David ran his hands down her arms, creating a tingling sensation on her
“She is lonely, bored, depressed, and just generally awful,” Heather smiled. “She’s attempting to make me feel bad since Mother insists I’m going to continue on through the season without her.” Heather sighed. “It must be hard for her to watch, but I have to admit, I’m rather enjoying it.” She glanced over, and David caught the twinkle in her eyes. “Is it awful of me to say that?”
He laughed. “I think it’s delightful. I’m quite certain if the situation was reversed, she wouldn’t waste any time leaving your side to get to the next ball.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. And, she’s furious that I’m spending time with you, since she blames you for her mishap.”
“I think that blame is misplaced. She should be finding fault with her cobbler.”
“Ah yes, Philippe. The handsome Frenchman who had all the fashionable ladies swooning this past winter. I wonder how his reputation is holding up, now that everyone knows it was his attempt at cleverness that caused Jasmine’s broken ankle.”
They rode on, talking quietly about the Cotillion and discussing the musical they were planning to attend later in the week at Buckley’s Opera House. At the park, they ran into one person after another who needed to be acknowledged, so their conversation thread kept getting cut. Heather introduced David multiple times as a family friend. After about a half hour of riding, David steered them to a remote gazebo tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the park’s main thoroughfare, and under the shade of the tallest tree in the park. He stopped his horse and dismounted, then assisted Heather in getting down.
“What are we doing?” She asked, excitedly.
“Come, take a look.” He tied their horses to the gazebo railing, took her hand and led her up the steps to the center of the structure. There, laid out and ready, was a luncheon feast for two. “I had the hotel where I’m staying put together a picnic lunch for us. Are you hungry?”
“Famished. Thank you, Lieutenant, for your thoughtfulness.” Heather’s eyes gleamed as she took a seat on the cloth where the food was laid. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in the sweet scent of the grass around them, the wonderful aroma of the food before them, and the manly smell of starch and sandlewood emanating from David, sitting close beside her. A shiver bolted up her spine. Perhaps he was sitting a bit too close for comfort.
• • •
Heather ate as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks, quickly downing a hefty sandwich piled high with thick slices of roast beef topped with horseradish and lettuce. Complementing the sandwich was a wedge of cheese and some fruit. David popped open a bottle of red wine and filled their glasses. She smiled as she thought of David ordering this meal for them at the hotel. No cucumber sandwiches for him! As her hunger waned, she looked up at David. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant. A proper young lady never shows her hunger. She’s supposed to eat like a bird in front of a gentleman.”
“And why is that, do you think?”
“I, uh, I suppose it’s to show that we won’t be such a burden to them once we marry, as we won’t eat a lot. I’ve never really thought much about it before.”
“Well, have you given any thought to what proper young ladies are supposed to do when faced with a public kiss?” David asked with a smile as he moved closer to her.
“Of course, sir. We’re to turn away in horror, and smack the gentleman with our fans.” Her stomach was performing acrobatics, which Heather knew was not the result of having eaten too quickly. David took her chin in his hand and swooped in for a kiss before Heather could further object.
“Then I deserve a lashing from your fan,” he drawled as he kissed her again. In response, she pulled back slightly.
“Lieutenant, you are taking far too many liberties with me.”
David ran his hands down her arms, creating a tingling sensation on her
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