The Worth Saga Box Set 1 by Courtney Milan

Author:Courtney Milan [Milan, Courtney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781937248727
Publisher: Courtney Milan

“Here, here, sit down,” said Mrs. Beasley. Camilla had met the woman a few times before, when she’d been sent to the telegraph office in town, but they’d never said much to one another—certainly not enough for the woman to be bustling about and fetching her tea. “Poor dear. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, haven’t you? I’m sorry I haven’t much better to offer than a space in the back.”

Camilla and Adrian had been ushered in and seated at a table near the mantel, in a room that appeared to be composed almost entirely of doilies. Doilies on the wall. Doilies under the plates. Doilies hanging off the table. Little decorative doilies had been bound together into pink covers that adorned the poker, shovel, and tongs that stood by the fireplace. The room was a veritable museum to the doily.

Camilla inched a doily to the side and set her spoon down.

Her head was spinning, and not just from a superabundance of doilies. Poor dear? She felt her ears heating with embarrassment at the moniker. It was bad enough that she had to accept this kind of charity; having pity thrown atop it was too much. She didn’t know how she’d ever repay the kindness.

But she was too hungry to object to bread and stew being offered to her, especially when it smelled the way it did. This stew, unlike last night’s soup, was actually good—thick and warming with real chunks of beef.

“My husband is out at the pub,” Mrs. Beasley said as she settled near Camilla in a rocking chair. “And the children are grown, so it leaves me with little to do of an evening but knit and plot the demise of my neighbors.”

Mr. Hunter, sitting on the other side of the table, looked up at that in something like consternation.

“A little joke!” She laughed. “I don’t knit! Obviously, I crochet. Also, I don’t wish to destroy all my neighbors. Only Ruford Shamwell and his uncontainable goats.”

“Of course,” Mr. Hunter said. “I see.”

“Hm.” Mrs. Beasley rocked in her chair. “Now that I’m making a list, I must add Bertrand Gapwood. He keeps throwing his chamber pot in the alley. I tell him over and over, no, we mustn’t do that, haven’t you read the newspaper, that’s how we all get cholera and die. But he never listens.”

“Two neighbors seems quite reasonable,” Camilla said around a spoonful of beef.

“Mm. Then there’s Stephen Wade. He yells at his wife. I’ve told him a thousand times that if they can’t get along, he should go spend his evenings in the pub like my Bobby, but he never listens. And he always yells about the same things. I enjoy hearing a bit of good gossip, but for heaven’s sake, have some imagination. Variety is the spice of life.” The woman frowned. “Well, that’s it—that’s all my neighbors, and they’re all on the list.”

Camilla took another bite of stew.

“Yes,” Mrs. Beasley said, in response to a twitch of an eyebrow from Mr. Hunter. “I must admit I’m a terrible intermeddler.

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