rooms."
"I'm sure your landlady… what did you say her name was?"
He wants her name? "Um, Rose… I mean, Mrs. Rose."
His eyebrow lifted and she felt like an idiot, but it was too late to come up with a better name. Instead, she smiled. "Isn't that a perfect name for a woman who is in the flower business?" She didn't give him time to answer, picking up the flower basket. "It isn't far. I'll run fast and the water won't hurt the flowers."
His look had her nerves fluttering but he simply nodded, bending to give her a kiss. It, like the one before, had her tummy flipping and her toes wishing to curl within her boots. When his driver opened the door, holding an umbrella up to block the rain, Phillip stepped out and then turned to lift her out as well. She was about to dash for safety when he said, "Hold on. Don't forget this." He opened the blanket enough to tuck the bundle of food into her arms and then wrapped it around her again.
"I'll pick you up here next week."
"Oh, you don't need to," she said, "I'll be there doing some work for Miss Summers before our party."
"Wait, take the umbrella!"
Pretending not to have heard, she gave him a wave as she dashed from beneath its protection. "Thank you again. Good bye." She hurried around the corner of the building and kept running until she'd reached the back. She pressed into a doorway, her small size allowing her to stay mostly out of the rain. She waited and though she couldn't hear the clopping of hooves to tell her the carriage had driven away, after five minutes had passed and no one appeared, she took a deep breath, drew the blanket a bit tighter and, darting from building to building, she began to run home.
* * *
Shaking his head, Phillip stood beneath the umbrella he'd taken from James before telling him to leave.
"Leave, sir?" James said, his puzzled look telling of his confusion.
"Yes, drive off and don't come back for at least half an hour. I'll return then."
"If you're sure?" At his employer's assurance that he was, the man gave him one last look, climbed back into his seat and flicked the reins.
Once the carriage had left, Phillip looked again at his surroundings. He knew that they had driven to an area where the people who worked in various markets did gather, and yet every instinct he had told him that Lilly had just lied to him. "Mrs. Rose?" He'd eat his hat if there was a landlady at all, and he'd add his coat to his plate if her name was Rose. He'd give his little minx points for creativity but that wouldn't keep her bottom safe from her lies.
He was ready when the small figure crept to the corner of the building and then, obviously satisfied her lie was undetected, ran from the building and toward another. He followed, keeping to the shadows, the rain and occasional roll of thunder ensuring that his footsteps wouldn't be audible. His anger grew the further he walked, realizing that despite the blanket, she had to already be soaked to the skin. When he saw her glance around before darting through a gate hanging from one hinge, he quickened his steps. He almost accidentally revealed his presence when he saw that she had stopped. What on earth was she doing?
She was squatting and he heard a soft moan. Had she hurt herself? Seeing her rubbing her leg, he was about to take a step when she bent forward and seemed to be searching for something. He hoped she hadn't dropped the parcel of food. When the object meowed loudly, he realized it was a cat. Good lord, instead of paying attention to her surroundings, which he knew weren't the safest, she was practically sitting in a mud puddle in the pouring rain trying to coax a half-drowned cat out from behind a pile of what looked like rubbish!
"Hello, Mr. Tom."
Phillip's head swiveled to see who she was talking to. When a feline howl answered, he looked back to realize the animal was voicing his displeasure at being picked up. Phillip felt a bit stilly at the instant surge of jealousy.
"Ouch! Don't be a naughty
"I'm sure your landlady… what did you say her name was?"
He wants her name? "Um, Rose… I mean, Mrs. Rose."
His eyebrow lifted and she felt like an idiot, but it was too late to come up with a better name. Instead, she smiled. "Isn't that a perfect name for a woman who is in the flower business?" She didn't give him time to answer, picking up the flower basket. "It isn't far. I'll run fast and the water won't hurt the flowers."
His look had her nerves fluttering but he simply nodded, bending to give her a kiss. It, like the one before, had her tummy flipping and her toes wishing to curl within her boots. When his driver opened the door, holding an umbrella up to block the rain, Phillip stepped out and then turned to lift her out as well. She was about to dash for safety when he said, "Hold on. Don't forget this." He opened the blanket enough to tuck the bundle of food into her arms and then wrapped it around her again.
"I'll pick you up here next week."
"Oh, you don't need to," she said, "I'll be there doing some work for Miss Summers before our party."
"Wait, take the umbrella!"
Pretending not to have heard, she gave him a wave as she dashed from beneath its protection. "Thank you again. Good bye." She hurried around the corner of the building and kept running until she'd reached the back. She pressed into a doorway, her small size allowing her to stay mostly out of the rain. She waited and though she couldn't hear the clopping of hooves to tell her the carriage had driven away, after five minutes had passed and no one appeared, she took a deep breath, drew the blanket a bit tighter and, darting from building to building, she began to run home.
* * *
Shaking his head, Phillip stood beneath the umbrella he'd taken from James before telling him to leave.
"Leave, sir?" James said, his puzzled look telling of his confusion.
"Yes, drive off and don't come back for at least half an hour. I'll return then."
"If you're sure?" At his employer's assurance that he was, the man gave him one last look, climbed back into his seat and flicked the reins.
Once the carriage had left, Phillip looked again at his surroundings. He knew that they had driven to an area where the people who worked in various markets did gather, and yet every instinct he had told him that Lilly had just lied to him. "Mrs. Rose?" He'd eat his hat if there was a landlady at all, and he'd add his coat to his plate if her name was Rose. He'd give his little minx points for creativity but that wouldn't keep her bottom safe from her lies.
He was ready when the small figure crept to the corner of the building and then, obviously satisfied her lie was undetected, ran from the building and toward another. He followed, keeping to the shadows, the rain and occasional roll of thunder ensuring that his footsteps wouldn't be audible. His anger grew the further he walked, realizing that despite the blanket, she had to already be soaked to the skin. When he saw her glance around before darting through a gate hanging from one hinge, he quickened his steps. He almost accidentally revealed his presence when he saw that she had stopped. What on earth was she doing?
She was squatting and he heard a soft moan. Had she hurt herself? Seeing her rubbing her leg, he was about to take a step when she bent forward and seemed to be searching for something. He hoped she hadn't dropped the parcel of food. When the object meowed loudly, he realized it was a cat. Good lord, instead of paying attention to her surroundings, which he knew weren't the safest, she was practically sitting in a mud puddle in the pouring rain trying to coax a half-drowned cat out from behind a pile of what looked like rubbish!
"Hello, Mr. Tom."
Phillip's head swiveled to see who she was talking to. When a feline howl answered, he looked back to realize the animal was voicing his displeasure at being picked up. Phillip felt a bit stilly at the instant surge of jealousy.
"Ouch! Don't be a naughty
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