somewhat absently, “I might say the same! Run along now and change into some dry clothes before you catch your death. I’d hate to answer to your aunt for that!”
Hardly a lover-like parting, Latteridge decided with surprising satisfaction. Unlike Marianne, he had no idea who she was, but he had every intention of finding out. “It’s not then a habit with you? Rescuing people?” he asked as he guided her along the promenade.
Marianne laughed. “My first occasion, I promise you, and I could just as well have done without the excitement. How could so many people stand by and not do anything?”
The question was rhetorical and the earl made no attempt to answer it, since it was unanswerable. “Do you live in York, Miss . . ."
“Yes, though we haven’t been here long. It’s quite a lovely city, isn’t it? And excellent theaters, beautiful assembly rooms, shops of every description, the horse races. And with few of the distressing elements of London. Things are less hurried here.”
Latteridge noted with surprise that she was headed for the Ouse Bridge. Still he did not suspect; his only thought was that she could not. possibly live far from his house in Micklegate. “Dr. Thorne seems a competent young man. Has he practiced here long?”
“Several years, I believe. He went to Oxford, then trained as a surgeon at St. George’s Hospital in London. But I believe he holds his Doctor of Medicine degree from the University of Aberdeen. He’s fascinated by microscopes."
“Is he?” The earl was fascinated by the smile that played between her lips and eyes.
“Yes, he says he’s seen the circulation of globules of blood in a frog’s toe web.”
“Has he? How extraordinary! And he thought you would be interested to hear of it?”
Her eyes danced. “Of course I was. Everyone should have an enthusiasm, don’t you think?”
“Undoubtedly. Do you have an enthusiasm, Miss . . ."
It was more difficult this time to ignore the query but Marianne managed to do so. “I confess that I am especially interested in other people’s enthusiasms. Have you seen Miss Morrett’s tapestries? My aunt is so agog with how clever they are, that she will wear her spectacles in public to study them. And Mr. Geddes is currently intrigued by the possibilities for further innovations to candlesnuffers. Did you know a fellow in London has patented one with a device to prevent the previously snuffed stuff from falling out when you go to snuff the next candle?”
The earl caught the unmistakable gleam in her eyes and protested, “What you mean is that you are amused by other people’s enthusiasms."
“Not at all. I find them wholly endearing.”
A thought had occurred to Latteridge and he asked, "The Mr. Geddes who invents walking sticks with embedded accessories and self-propelling turnspits?”
Their rapid pace had brought them to Marianne's door and she offered an apologetic smile. “Yes, that Mr. Geddes.”
“Miss Findlay?” There was a note of incredulity in his voice, though his ever-placid countenance reflected nothing but cordiality. When she nodded, he said, “I am your neighbor, Lord Latteridge.”
“I suspected as much. Harry Derwent has a similar cast of features.”
Seldom was the earl at a loss for words, but he found himself hard-pressed now. At length he said, “I trust your aunt is better.”
“Much better, thank you. In fact,” she amended almost seriously, “well enough to partake of the soup and fruit you had sent. I trust you received our acknowledgment of your thoughtfulness.”
“I’m sure I did.” Some recollection of William laying the note on his desk returned to him but he did not think he had read it.
Marianne had used the knocker and Roberts now opened the door. “Good day, Lord Latteridge. I hope you receive no ill from your soaking.” And then, irrepressibly, as the door closed after her, “But send for Dr. Thorne if you do; he’s very talented.”
Whether amusement,
Hardly a lover-like parting, Latteridge decided with surprising satisfaction. Unlike Marianne, he had no idea who she was, but he had every intention of finding out. “It’s not then a habit with you? Rescuing people?” he asked as he guided her along the promenade.
Marianne laughed. “My first occasion, I promise you, and I could just as well have done without the excitement. How could so many people stand by and not do anything?”
The question was rhetorical and the earl made no attempt to answer it, since it was unanswerable. “Do you live in York, Miss . . ."
“Yes, though we haven’t been here long. It’s quite a lovely city, isn’t it? And excellent theaters, beautiful assembly rooms, shops of every description, the horse races. And with few of the distressing elements of London. Things are less hurried here.”
Latteridge noted with surprise that she was headed for the Ouse Bridge. Still he did not suspect; his only thought was that she could not. possibly live far from his house in Micklegate. “Dr. Thorne seems a competent young man. Has he practiced here long?”
“Several years, I believe. He went to Oxford, then trained as a surgeon at St. George’s Hospital in London. But I believe he holds his Doctor of Medicine degree from the University of Aberdeen. He’s fascinated by microscopes."
“Is he?” The earl was fascinated by the smile that played between her lips and eyes.
“Yes, he says he’s seen the circulation of globules of blood in a frog’s toe web.”
“Has he? How extraordinary! And he thought you would be interested to hear of it?”
Her eyes danced. “Of course I was. Everyone should have an enthusiasm, don’t you think?”
“Undoubtedly. Do you have an enthusiasm, Miss . . ."
It was more difficult this time to ignore the query but Marianne managed to do so. “I confess that I am especially interested in other people’s enthusiasms. Have you seen Miss Morrett’s tapestries? My aunt is so agog with how clever they are, that she will wear her spectacles in public to study them. And Mr. Geddes is currently intrigued by the possibilities for further innovations to candlesnuffers. Did you know a fellow in London has patented one with a device to prevent the previously snuffed stuff from falling out when you go to snuff the next candle?”
The earl caught the unmistakable gleam in her eyes and protested, “What you mean is that you are amused by other people’s enthusiasms."
“Not at all. I find them wholly endearing.”
A thought had occurred to Latteridge and he asked, "The Mr. Geddes who invents walking sticks with embedded accessories and self-propelling turnspits?”
Their rapid pace had brought them to Marianne's door and she offered an apologetic smile. “Yes, that Mr. Geddes.”
“Miss Findlay?” There was a note of incredulity in his voice, though his ever-placid countenance reflected nothing but cordiality. When she nodded, he said, “I am your neighbor, Lord Latteridge.”
“I suspected as much. Harry Derwent has a similar cast of features.”
Seldom was the earl at a loss for words, but he found himself hard-pressed now. At length he said, “I trust your aunt is better.”
“Much better, thank you. In fact,” she amended almost seriously, “well enough to partake of the soup and fruit you had sent. I trust you received our acknowledgment of your thoughtfulness.”
“I’m sure I did.” Some recollection of William laying the note on his desk returned to him but he did not think he had read it.
Marianne had used the knocker and Roberts now opened the door. “Good day, Lord Latteridge. I hope you receive no ill from your soaking.” And then, irrepressibly, as the door closed after her, “But send for Dr. Thorne if you do; he’s very talented.”
Whether amusement,
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