A Gentleman Worthy of Kisses by Grace Burrowes

Author:Grace Burrowes [Burrowes, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781956975512
Publisher: Grace Burrowes

“Edie, why didn’t you tell me you’d gone to the agencies again?” Foster’s question was more hurt than chiding, though he’d waited until the maid of all work had withdrawn from the breakfast parlor to pose it.

“Because I’ve been to the agencies many times. I did not expect a post to become available.” Except that this time, Edith had told the sniffy little clerk that she was willing to accept a position anywhere in Britain except London. She’d had three choices within a matter of days.

“You’ll come back to see my opening night won’t you?” Foster asked, setting the teapot near her elbow.

“I made that a condition of accepting the offer. Manchester isn’t so very far away.”

“Manchester is 200 miles away over bad roads, Edie. You couldn’t find anything closer?”

Both of the other positions had been closer. “The household in Manchester will suit me. I won’t have to face polite society again, and you can’t know what a relief that will be.”

Every tall man striding along the walk in a top hat and morning attire gave Edith a start, and she’d bid Emory farewell nearly ten days ago.

Foster poured her a third cup of tea—luxury upon luxury—and sat back. “You don’t have to face polite society here either. I only mentioned working at the theater because I love being there, and I thought you liked having your own money. You could do more writing, which you seem to delight in, and I wouldn’t have to fret that you’re perishing of cold and overwork in the north.”

“I won’t perish.” If watching Emory march away, and not hearing from him at all, not even the obligatory anonymous bouquet, hadn’t felled her, nothing would.

“You won’t flourish either. Anybody who can sit at that writing desk for more than a week straight, scribbling away hour after hour, has a vocation not to be ignored. Your book is quite witty and deserves to be published.”

How many times in recent months had Edith longed for even a second cup of tea? She was on her third of the morning, and it did nothing to comfort the hollow ache she’d carried for days.

“If the book has promise, that’s because I had months to study my subject.” And she’d have the rest of her life to wonder what had sent him out the door in such an odd mood. “Emory is the soul of decency, of that I have no doubt.” Perhaps he’d had bad experiences with women before, women who clung and tried to extort promises from him.

No matter. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

“But you aren’t even attempting to find a publisher,” Foster said. “The past six months have taken a toll on you. The Edie who all but raised me would be waving that manuscript under the noses of every publisher in Town, and why you won’t allow me to make inquiries on your behalf utterly defeats my—”

“Please, Foster. You’ll be late for rehearsal.” She’d written that manuscript out of a need to exorcise a broken heart, or perhaps to justify her decision to become intimate with Emory.

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