A Taste of Honey by Rose Lerner

Author:Rose Lerner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rose Lerner
Published: 2017-08-19T05:08:57+00:00

Chapter 6:

Sunday

Betsy did not love Sunday mornings. It might be called a day of rest, but she couldn’t even sleep late, because she had to get up and put on her Sunday best. She had to cram herself into the gallery at St. Leonard’s, everyone shoving and elbowing to the front so they could show the whole church how respectably they were dressed, and then she had to stand through a long sermon.

She didn’t mind the sermon. It was the standing she hated, after a long week on her feet. Mrs. Piper was even shorter than Betsy, and liked to be early to claim a coveted spot crushed against the railing. Betsy spent most Sunday mornings gazing enviously down into the box pews with their benches and cushions.

Sunday afternoons, on the other hand, were usually delightful.

But today everything was backwards. After church Betsy had to hurry back to the Honey Moon instead of lazing about with Jemima, and she was eager to get to St. Leonard’s and maybe smile at Mr. Moon to make up for yesterday’s ill humor.

“Does my hair look all right?” she asked Nan. Their small mirror showed only a few square inches of it at a time, and that distorted.

“What difference can it make?” Nan said. “It’ll be under your hat.”

Betsy sighed, wishing she’d saved her money for that bonnet she’d been eying in Miss Tice’s window, even if Miss Tice was a Tory. It had paper honeysuckle climbing in thick clusters over the hatband and was the prettiest thing Betsy had ever seen.

Of course she spent her spare coins on sweets and coffee as fast as she earned them, instead.

Still, she felt pleased with her appearance. Her dark purple Sunday dress had faded to a lovely shade of lilac, and her kerchief and gloves had no stains even if they weren’t really white any longer. Her bonnet had a new ribbon and she’d bought lovely paste shoe buckles from a peddler at the market, which winked as she walked in a very gratifying way.

“I don’t know why you bother,” Nan said. “He’s always late to church and never stands with us.”

Betsy flushed hot.

But he’d said I hope someday I shall have the right to ask you what you do when you aren’t with me. That had to mean marriage. Maybe…maybe today would be different.

Or maybe he’d be so shamed by what they’d been doing that he’d not come to church at all.

But when the Pipers climbed the stairs to the still nearly empty west gallery, Mr. Moon was waiting by one of the arches, in the center just behind the pulpit. Mrs. Piper’s favorite spot.

Betsy’s heart skipped a beat. Today was different after all!

He gulped and straightened when he saw them, turning his battered tricorne round in his hands. Oh, he was so very handsome! When he smiled, nervous but genuine, her heart pounded like a mortar in a pestle.

She hadn’t ought to think of bed in church, but how could she help it? Those long fingers white on the brim of his hat had…

She swallowed hard herself, trying to forget.

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