Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4)

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Had they taken it from her finger when she was dead? Now, that was a gruesome thought.

And I wondered how George was faring with Miss Crislock. They quite liked each other, and she had insisted that it was only right that I be alone with my new husband, and not sitting there talking constantly to George. Not an hour later we arrived in Repford, where Lawrence had arranged accommodations for us at the Gray Goose Inn. No sooner had we pulled into the inn yard than several boys came running to hold the horses and open the chaise door.

We were greeted at the door with a very low bow from our landlord, who had not a single strand of hair on his shining head, a fact easily ascertained since he was very short.

I Think I Am a Verb

When he bowed, the top of his head was right under my nose. She and Flynt can see to each other. He looked too much and said too little.

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Also she was ill. I wish to make sure that she is feeling all right. I will join you shortly, Lawrence. Flynt, as was his wont, just stood there, silent, watching, doing not a single thing that was helpful. I waited as the coachman assisted her to alight from the carriage. I fastened his collar and let him down to the ground.

Just ask Mr. Pratt to see you to your room. You just trot on ahead. He had more energy than I did. It was a good hour before he was content to go to Miss Crislock and settle down to his dinner and to bed. The Gray Goose parlor was a cozy, wood-paneled room, with a brightly burning fire, smells of roast beef, and a thin veil of smoke that filled the air.

I tossed my muff and pelisse on a chair, walked over to the bright fire, and fanned my hands toward the heat. Lawrence, who had been reading a newspaper, now gave orders to Pratt for our supper.

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When Pratt had bowed himself out, Lawrence joined me by the fire. If there was, I would probably shortly find myself in deep trouble. He missed me and danced around me until he keeled over he was finally so tired. When Pratt came again into the parlor, he was followed by a large bosomy girl with a lovely wide smile, whose name, we were informed, was Betty. Lawrence turned to me. They do smell rather like dog.

I paused by a long, narrow mirror that was on the closest wall at the bottom of the stairs. I looked at the pale girl and frowned. I had no reason to be pale. What was wrong with me? I looked at the girl again. She looked very alone, very pathetic, really. But that was equally silly, I thought. I was used to being my own mistress and being alone. Now I was still my own mistress, but I was no longer alone. No, now I had a very fine husband. It had stung, and I realized she had meant it to. But surely, my dear, it is too soon for you to wed? Your dear grandfather only passed from his mortal coil not six months ago?

Shame on you. But I suppose since you have no mama to tell you what is right and what is impulsive? But unlike Peter, no one had seemed to see anything amiss with my marrying Lawrence. Except that we had married too soon. No, we were going to the country, and there we would remain. It was doubtless from all the burning coal smoke. The country was the best place for both of us. And my husband, too, of course. Lawrence sat again by the fire, still reading the Gazette. Pratt was busy crowding our table with roasted beef, potatoes, stewed turnips, and peas.

Goodness, there was even a brace of partridge tottering toward the edge of the table, and more side dishes than I cared to count.

I Think I Am a Verb | SpringerLink

My stomach growled, loudly. Lawrence looked up and gave me a pleasant smile. Elsewise you might have collapsed in your bath from hunger. Everything would be all right.

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My decision was sound. Every dish was delicious. I tucked away some of the delicious roasted beef into a napkin for George. I had a mouthful of some sort of partridge when I glanced up at Lawrence. He was looking in some astonishment at my refilled plate. I stopped, my spoon in midair.

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Do you believe me to be a glutton? As one grows older, one either seems to expand or retract. He stiffened up. I saw that clearly enough. I had not meant to slight his age. He rescued me. The splendid man actually lifted me out of the hole and cut me free. No harm done. You speak what is on your mind, and for the most part, that is a charming thing. Not always, to be sure, but sometimes. Perhaps moderation is not a bad thing to consider, occasionally.

When Pratt showed himself again with the bosomy Betty to remove the dinner remains, he bowed low again, then poured Lawrence a glass of rich red port. Unthinking, without a pause, I held up my own glass. Chapter Five Pratt looked like he had just been pinned down by a hunter with a very big gun. I doubted he even breathed. He stared at my glass, still held toward him, and that bottle of port, like it was a serpent to bite him.

He sent an agonized look toward my husband. I realized in that instant that I had done something a lady would never do, not even on her dying day. I waited, for there was nothing else I could do. Lawrence looked at me and saw that I was perfectly serious. He started to open his mouth, to blast me, I figured. But then he surprised me. He merely nodded that Pratt fill my glass. I smiled to myself as Pratt, not meeting my eyes, gave me approximately three skinny dollops.

I remembered my distaste when Grandfather had first poured me a bit of his port. You turn up your nose at my excellent port, Missy? My excellent port that has journeyed all the way from the Douro region of northern Portugal?


It is the most excellent port in the world. Port, since you are so ignorant, is named for the town of Oporto. Listen to me, Miss Prude with no taste buds worth speaking of, this is part of your education, a very important part. You will develop a sophisticated palate.

I will never watch you drink that nauseating ratafia that some idiot deemed proper for ladies to drink the good Lord knows how long ago. I now quite liked a bit of port after my dinner, but it had taken a good three months to train my poor sensitive palate. Would it continue?

Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4) Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4)
Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4) Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4)
Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4) Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4)
Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4) Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4)
Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4) Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4)
Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4) Catherine the Deceiver (Sideways Through Time Book 4)

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