Page 157 of Rakes & Reticules
The little girl nodded, placing one penny below her newly scratched numeral1, then two pennies under her scrawled2, and continued until there were five coins lined up beneath the5.
“Very good!” Dottie pointed at the board, explaining the pattern of “one more” in each row. Then she lined ten of the pennies in front of the girl and began to count. Violet followed along with her, touching each coin as Dottie said the number.
When the lesson was over, Dottie put the coins back in the tin and shook it, scowling at the contents. “I’ll be old and gray by the time I make enough money to take us to America.”
Violet gasped and pointed to herself, questioning if Dottie meant to take her.
“Of course, dear girl, as long as you want to go.”
Violet nodded, a huge grin on her face.
“We can start over. I’ll be a widow, you’re my daughter, and we’re searching for relations. I don’t have any that I know of, but it’s a good tale as to why we left England.” If she’d had references, Dottie could have tried for a position of cook if governess or instructor hadn’t worked out. Across the ocean lay a world full of possibilities. There was a myriad of excuses as to how she had “lost” her references on the voyage over. She could earn a decent wage and be a proper mother to her “daughter.”
Violet jumped up, rounded the table, and threw her arms around Dottie. The hug was so powerful, it almost knocked Dottie off the chair. She wrapped her arms around the child, burying her face in the soft blonde waves. This could be enough for her. They could be happy, the two of them together.
Just as suddenly, Violet placed a kiss on Dottie’s cheek and ran into the kitchen.
With a sigh, she rose and replaced the tin. A weak ray of sunshine peeked through the curtains. It looked like she’d be going to St. James Park after all. Her stomach did a slight flip.
She had given up trying to curb the attraction she felt toward Dr. Brooks. What was the harm? He was a handsome man who treated her nicely, proving to be her best customer in fact. A little flirting made her feel young again and helped pass the time. He never acted untoward, and she didn’t dream of such a man wanting anything more serious than a light flirtation every Sunday.
The temperatures had dropped, a definite chill seeping through the city. Winter was making itself known, and Dottie was grateful for the brown wool redingote. By the time she was settled outside the park, her cheeks were cold. As long as her nose didn’t run…
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Brown. I wasn’t sure if the weather was going to cooperate today.”
There he was, dressed in a forest riding coat that brought out the green in his hazel eyes. Fawn-colored breeches hugged hard thighs that disappeared into shining black boots. When he removed his hat, his hair had lost the sun-touched streaks and was more umber with slight curls brushing his collar. It made him seem older, more serious. Until the creases in his cheeks deepened, and he grinned at her with a bow. My, but he was handsome.
“Good day to you, sir.” She stood, setting her book on the stool. “Have you been well?”
“Excellent, and you?”
“Happy to have another fine day to sell you some pastries.” With a smile, she pulled back a cloth. “Apple tarts for a certain physician who has a preference for them.”
A hand went to his chest. “Oh, you’ve stolen my heart through my stomach.” He went to pick one up, and Dottie slapped his hand.
“Oh,” she cried, mortified at her action. She was accustomed to fending off Violet and Mr. Clatterly while she baked. “I forget myself. My apologies.” Heat rose up her neck and flooded her cheeks. What would he think?
Laughter erupted from him, his eyes twinkling as he shook his hand. “You wound me, Mrs. Brown. There’s a vixen hiding beneath your gentle exterior.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking… why I would…” Her words faded as she realized he was staring at her mouth. It made her do the same. That was a mistake. Wondering what those full lips would feel like against hers sent her stomach tumbling.
“Mrs. Brown, may I speak plainly?”
Had she put him off with her behavior? Lost her best customer? She could only answer with a nod.
“We’ve been meeting for the past eight weeks, exchanging pleasantries and pastries. Very enjoyable, I admit, but I’d like to see you without the cart between us.” He paused, his gaze direct and penetrating, warm and knowing, as if he could see her quivering inside.
“I-I don’t know… I-this is unexpected.” She chewed her bottom lip. “You and I are from different worlds, I believe. I’m not—”
“You are a lovely, educated woman who has a talent for baking. I am the son of a bookshop owner who ended up in debtor’s prison for years. We are not so far apart that we cannot socialize.” He paused as if making a decision. “A carriage ride or a cup of tea? We can share our stories, then you may decide if we are not suited to continue a friendship.”
How did she respond to that? He was right, of course. Her own father had been a steward for an earl. His position had come with certain privileges. No one would comment on a steward’s daughter stepping out with a physician. Except she was a costermonger now. Not someone’s daughter or an instructor.
“Is it propriety? I assumed from your attire that you were no longer in mourning. If you are not yet ready for an outing, I understand and apologize.” Yet his eyes pleaded with her, his smile tempting her to say yes. “Our brief conversations have been delightful. I hope to have lengthier discussions at our leisure and get to know you better. I have a feeling you may have quite a story behind those sparkling blue eyes.”
Dottie heard herself say, “I would be honored to have tea with you, Dr. Brooks. There’s no need for flummery.”
“A sincere compliment.”
