musttake her to wrap those rolls of hair around her head like stacked sausages.
“Would you like me to get your cane for you?” he asked.
She waved her hand in a negative gesture. Her gray gown didn’t favor the large puffy sleeves most women wore, but instead had sensible, straightforward ones. “No, no. I’ll just hold on to you.”
He gave a slight bow. “Then I shall be the most fortunate of men.”
“Oh, hush. No need to waste your sparking on me. You’d best save that for the young ladies who’ll appreciate it.” The pleasure in her tone, however, belied her words.
He gently cupped her elbow. “I only have eyes for you, as you well know.”
“Fiddlesticks.” Pink scalp peeked through a swath of matted-down white hair on the right side of her head. “Have you noticed our new boarder? Now there’s a piece of calico for you.”
He smiled to himself, not only at the antiquated saying, but that it was coming from such an unlikely source. “We’ve a new boarder?”
Adjusting the round glasses propped against her nose, she harrumph ed. “You’ve noticed. You’re just not wanting to admit it.”
“What I’ve noticed is the lovely scent you’re wearing this evening. Is it new?”
Her eyes lit. “Why, it is. Just arrived from Montgomery Ward. They call it Meadow Blossom.”
He lifted her wrist to his nose. “Just like its name.”
She tsk ed, but when they entered the dining room, her smile was broad, her step a bit lighter.
At the threshold, the new boarder greeted them as if she were the hostess in a receiving line and they her invited guests. “Good evening, Mrs. Dinwiddie. I believe your place card is righthere closest to the door. Yours, Mr. Wilder, is there, at the other end.”
He gave her a sideways glance. How did she know his name? He’d never so much as said word-one to her, although he knew all about her due to the thin walls.
“Place cards?” Mrs. Dinwiddie asked.
Other residents of the house circled the table, exclaiming over various place cards. Even their landlady, a drawn, reedy woman, set down a bowl of potatoes, then showed an uncharacteristic bit of animation as she looked over Miss Love’s shoulder and examined these additions to her table.
“That’s right,” Miss Jayne said. “I thought it would be fun to sit by someone new tonight.”
He suppressed a growl. What was this?
“You didn’t put me by Mr. Oyster, did you?” Frowning, Mrs. Dinwiddie leaned close to Miss Jayne, but didn’t bother to lower her voice. “He’s going the way to destruction, I’m afraid. You mark my words.”
The mercantile clerk looked up at the mention of his name. Anyone addressed as Oyster ought to be bald, pale, and clammy. Instead, he had a full head of hair in a constant state of disarray, a warm complexion, and a smile always at the ready when a woman was nearby. He caught Miss Jayne’s eye, waggled his eyebrows, then winked.
Reeve would have to keep an eye on the man. When the ladies were absent, Oyster talked of nothing but his past conquests—especially if the girl had been a New Woman on her own. Miss Jayne might be a magpie and a complete disruption to the peaceful solitude Reeve prized, but Mrs. Dinwiddie had been right. Miss Jayne was also a stunner—and ripe for being duped by a bounder like Oyster.
Reeve stalled Mrs. Dinwiddie with a slight increase of pressure when she started to move away. “I’m afraid Mrs. Dinwiddie and I always sit together.”
Miss Jayne smiled. “Yes, I noticed. That’s why I put you at the other end of the table from her.”
“But I don’t want to be at the other end of the table from her.”
Mrs. Dinwiddie patted his hand. “Now, now, Mr. Wilder, it’s all right. It’s just for one night. Besides, it’s not as if I don’t see you every afternoon for a spot of tea.”
He frowned. That wasn’t the point. Their teas were a way to keep him from working straight through the day without stopping and a way for her to
“Would you like me to get your cane for you?” he asked.
She waved her hand in a negative gesture. Her gray gown didn’t favor the large puffy sleeves most women wore, but instead had sensible, straightforward ones. “No, no. I’ll just hold on to you.”
He gave a slight bow. “Then I shall be the most fortunate of men.”
“Oh, hush. No need to waste your sparking on me. You’d best save that for the young ladies who’ll appreciate it.” The pleasure in her tone, however, belied her words.
He gently cupped her elbow. “I only have eyes for you, as you well know.”
“Fiddlesticks.” Pink scalp peeked through a swath of matted-down white hair on the right side of her head. “Have you noticed our new boarder? Now there’s a piece of calico for you.”
He smiled to himself, not only at the antiquated saying, but that it was coming from such an unlikely source. “We’ve a new boarder?”
Adjusting the round glasses propped against her nose, she harrumph ed. “You’ve noticed. You’re just not wanting to admit it.”
“What I’ve noticed is the lovely scent you’re wearing this evening. Is it new?”
Her eyes lit. “Why, it is. Just arrived from Montgomery Ward. They call it Meadow Blossom.”
He lifted her wrist to his nose. “Just like its name.”
She tsk ed, but when they entered the dining room, her smile was broad, her step a bit lighter.
At the threshold, the new boarder greeted them as if she were the hostess in a receiving line and they her invited guests. “Good evening, Mrs. Dinwiddie. I believe your place card is righthere closest to the door. Yours, Mr. Wilder, is there, at the other end.”
He gave her a sideways glance. How did she know his name? He’d never so much as said word-one to her, although he knew all about her due to the thin walls.
“Place cards?” Mrs. Dinwiddie asked.
Other residents of the house circled the table, exclaiming over various place cards. Even their landlady, a drawn, reedy woman, set down a bowl of potatoes, then showed an uncharacteristic bit of animation as she looked over Miss Love’s shoulder and examined these additions to her table.
“That’s right,” Miss Jayne said. “I thought it would be fun to sit by someone new tonight.”
He suppressed a growl. What was this?
“You didn’t put me by Mr. Oyster, did you?” Frowning, Mrs. Dinwiddie leaned close to Miss Jayne, but didn’t bother to lower her voice. “He’s going the way to destruction, I’m afraid. You mark my words.”
The mercantile clerk looked up at the mention of his name. Anyone addressed as Oyster ought to be bald, pale, and clammy. Instead, he had a full head of hair in a constant state of disarray, a warm complexion, and a smile always at the ready when a woman was nearby. He caught Miss Jayne’s eye, waggled his eyebrows, then winked.
Reeve would have to keep an eye on the man. When the ladies were absent, Oyster talked of nothing but his past conquests—especially if the girl had been a New Woman on her own. Miss Jayne might be a magpie and a complete disruption to the peaceful solitude Reeve prized, but Mrs. Dinwiddie had been right. Miss Jayne was also a stunner—and ripe for being duped by a bounder like Oyster.
Reeve stalled Mrs. Dinwiddie with a slight increase of pressure when she started to move away. “I’m afraid Mrs. Dinwiddie and I always sit together.”
Miss Jayne smiled. “Yes, I noticed. That’s why I put you at the other end of the table from her.”
“But I don’t want to be at the other end of the table from her.”
Mrs. Dinwiddie patted his hand. “Now, now, Mr. Wilder, it’s all right. It’s just for one night. Besides, it’s not as if I don’t see you every afternoon for a spot of tea.”
He frowned. That wasn’t the point. Their teas were a way to keep him from working straight through the day without stopping and a way for her to
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