His Mistress By Morning by Elizabeth Boyle

Author:Elizabeth Boyle [Boyle, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2011-05-21T15:08:09+00:00

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Chapter 10

Quince tried time and time again over the next fortnight to catch a moment alone with Charlotte, but the lady was nearly impossible to corner.

Even for someone of, say, Quince's particular talents

If it hadn't been for Milton's looming ultimatum, she might have been immensely proud of how Charlotte's wish had turned out.

Oh, yes, there were a few stray threads of time here and about that needed tucking in, but over all, one look at Charlotte's shining face and it was obvious she'd bloomed.

She and her handsome Sebastian were nearly inseparable—evidence, she told a glowering Milton, that this wish was fated—proved over and over again with lazy picnics in the countryside, late-night suppers of shared tidbits and kisses, watching the fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens, creating their own explosive passions whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Which, in the case of Charlotte and her lover, proved to be often—in the afternoon while Finella was out shopping, during the long drive home from the countryside, through the wee hours of the night and into the morning until they were both spent and exhausted.

It wasn't that Quince was spying, per se, but even she had to admit to being surprised by the explosive heat that sparked between Charlotte and Sebastian at the least bit of provocation.

And in truth, the world was none the worse for it—for when had true love ever been a bad thing?

At least for the time being…

A carriage rolling down the street roused Quince out of her reverie, especially when it stopped in front of No. Four, Little Titchfield Street.

The driver went up and rang the bell, then returned to the curb to await his mistress.

The door opened shortly thereafter, and as luck would have it, Charlotte came down the steps with only her maid, Prudence, in tow.

Quince glanced at Charlotte's dress—a beautifully trimmed muslin gown and a Tyrolese pelisse in green velvet that fell to her knees. Atop her head was a wonderful hat with a great ostrich plume and green satin ribbon.

Lovely, Quince mused before looking down at her own drab gown. A bit of long-forgotten vanity got the better of her, and for a moment she envied Charlotte her fancy silks and glorious gowns.

Oh, but it was no use wishing for what she'd given up. And, worst of all, there was this wretched task before her. "Now it is," Quince muttered, gathering up her basket and hustling toward her quarry.

"Lottie, my dear girl," she called out, catching Charlotte's arm and pulling her back from the carriage. "We need to talk."

"Away with you, you old crone," the driver said, shooing her back. "Get yer dirty hands off 'er!"

Charlotte stopped him. "That's enough, Mr. Gallagher. I know this woman. Tis my good friend, Mrs. Quince."

Quince shot a look of triumph at the cheeky fellow. "As she says, I'm her good friend." She shifted her basket and tugged at Charlotte's arm again. "Can you spare me a moment?"

Gallagher displayed his disbelief with a pair of furrowed brows and a loud snort.

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