Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
What? ‘He was robbed? By the highwaymen?’
‘That is what I said, didn’t I? He paid a visit to His Grace this morning.’
‘Why?’
‘My brother has been consulting with Mr Casper about many of my father’s inventions that he never ensured were legally protected before … before …’ She drops her eyes, flinching ‘… before he was murdered by that monster Lymington.’ She appears to shake herself out of her reverie.
‘Are you all right?’ If we were alone, I would be sure to take her in a hug, for she looks like she needs one.
Her smile is small, but I can tell she appreciates my condolences. ‘Papa was the most wonderfully chaotic man.’
‘I have heard he was a very good man. too.’
‘Oh, he was.’ She laughs, and, I swear it, the oddest feeling flutters through my belly at the sight and sound. ‘He was quite the character.’ Then she sighs, and with the loss of her laughter comes an air of sadness that flattens the pleasant feeling within me and replaces it with something not so appealing. What is happening? ‘Anyway,’ she goes on, correcting herself, smiling mildly once again, but this one does not touch her eyes. ‘His Grace would like to ensure my father’s inventions are protected to avoid any more crooks like Lymington coming along and stealing them. Mr Casper was quite shaken when he arrived, and Johnny was forced to feed him some Scotch to calm his frayed nerves.’
‘Go on,’ I say, gesturing with my hands. ‘Tell me more.’
‘That’s all I know.’ She shrugs. ‘I don’t make a habit of eavesdropping.’
I give her a tired look. ‘Oh, please.’
‘I don’t,’ she says over another laugh that sends me somewhat dizzy. Jesus Lord above, that sound. The vision. I study her for a few moments, as she watches me also, her smile mild as she brushes some hair from her face. I must find Mr Casper. But … I look down at her hand, where the paper rests in her grasp. ‘What are you drawing today, my lady?’
She looks down, her face alive and bright and light. ‘Well, Mr Melrose, I read the newspaper each day eagerly along with the rest of the ton, hoping for more news on the highwaymen––’
‘Woman.’
‘Woman,’ she corrects. ‘But the past while, the pages of The London Times have been absent of your marvellous words, so I have had no inspiration.’ She holds up her paper. ‘So I was forced to draw Lady Rose.’
My eyes land on the picture, and laughter rises up from my toes and bursts out of me. ‘My God, she will have you hanged.’ I chuckle, bracing a hand on my knee to hold myself up.
‘Shhhh,’ Taya giggles, and I stop laughing immediately, the sound sending me quite dizzy. She tucks the paper away in the low neckline of her dress, and my eyes rest on the smooth, peachy flesh.
‘I must find Mr Casper,’ I blurt out, untying Figaro and marching away, furiously fighting off these odd sensations overcoming me, controlling me.
‘Are you blind, Frank?’ Taya calls, making me look back over my shoulder. ‘He is a mere fifty yards away.’
‘He is?’ I ask. ‘Where?’ I scan the many people congregating in the park and spot him chatting with Lord Hamsley and Mr Simpson. Oh no, I bet Casper is sharing his story right now! I must intercept and get the exclusive.
I tie Figaro back up to a tree, pull in my jacket, and hurry over. ‘Mr Casper,’ I say. ‘May I have a brief word?’
‘Of course, Melrose,’ he replies, smiling through a frown. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘In private,’ I add when he makes no attempt to move away from Hamsley and Simpson.
‘Oh?’
‘Let us promenade,’ I smile and motion forward. ‘After you.’
Casper leads and I follow, and we’re soon walking side by side. ‘Oh Melrose,’ Lord Hamsley yells at my back. ‘Your father and I have been discussing the rather exciting prospect of your engagement to my daughter, Esther. She is quite a catch.’
Jesus. I do not turn round. Papa is in no position to be discussing such a thing, especially now. ‘Is he still offering money to marry his daughter off?’ I ask, and Casper laughs. ‘How humiliating.’ Esther Hamsley is no beauty, be sure of that, but she is also not a wench. She is, as I would put it, quite plain, I suppose. As for her personality, I could not comment, for she hardly breathes a word to anyone in public. Shy? Socially awkward? If only she would smile, I’m certain it would brighten her face. I shake my head. I am being distracted by trivial matters. I am not getting married, and definitely not to Esther Hamsley.
‘Now, I am terribly sorry to pry, for I am sure you are quite disturbed and remain shaken, but, you see, I am so very curious.’