Witty in Pink by Erica George

Author:Erica George [George, Erica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2024-08-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Blythe

I accompany Charlotte and Amy into Brumbury the next morning. They stride ahead of me, arm in arm, and though I try my best to pay attention to what they’re discussing, I keep thinking about Briggs and Sabrina Dixon. How she must have woken early, gotten to work on preparing a basket for his tenants. How they must be flirting while putting everything together. Their hands brushing one another, eyes meeting, then flicking away, then eventually meeting once more.

“I have three dresses to pick up today,” Charlotte says, interrupting my thoughts. We cross over the arched stone bridge and under a few oak trees, and she tugs at the hem of her sleeve, grinning at Amy and then me.

Just outside the door to the dress shop, someone who I can only assume is a friend of Charlotte’s waves to her, and Charlotte cheerfully returns the gesture as we head in that direction.

We cross the square, which is busy with people going about their daily errands. The signs hanging perpendicular to the walls of each building swing gently in the summer breeze, and above us, the lush green leaves of trees whisper back and forth. There are coaches dropping off visitors at The Hearth and Hound public house, and down a little way, a great dappled gray horse is being fitted with shoes. It can be none other than Apollo. Behind the animal, Briggs Goswick emerges. He rests his arm on the horse’s back, making conversation with the blacksmith.

So I suppose he didn’t get up and rush to make a basket with Miss Dixon. Unless they’ve already visited the Hughes family, and now they’re back again. I shouldn’t be so fixated, I tell myself. I’ve been working for this, for Miss Dixon to pay Briggs attention, and now it’s happened. He’s taking her and her mother to London next week for the opera anyway, and I should be too busy with Lord Colchester to really care.

I shouldn’t stare, I tell myself. But it’s hard not to. Briggs is so assured, he exudes so much confidence. Yesterday, when he looked to me to help him make amends with Westley, I felt a shift in myself. That suddenly, all of my goals and hopes didn’t orbit around everything that I wanted solely for myself, or for my family, or for Awendown. Suddenly, someone outside of my usual universe was included. His deep eyes were darker with thought, his full lips angled slightly downward, and I wanted to make everything right with him.

I’m so lost in my own reverie that I don’t notice right away when Briggs returns my attention. He steps out from beside the horse, his steady eyes meeting mine, touches the brim of his hat, and bows to me.

I feel caught, and panic rises in my chest, but I remind myself to return the gesture. There should be nothing awkward about greeting a neighbor in town. I curtsy and then duck into the dress shop, following Charlotte and Amy.

“Do you

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