Lily George Read Free

someone who was pretty and clever, like Miss Williams. So it was much better to stick with the facts, as a good soldier should.
    “Met a g-girl,” he grumbled. His voice was rusty and unpracticed, even to his own ears. He reached for the teapot and poured a steaming cup. “She will work with the veterans’ group of Cantrill’s. Helping out.” He took a long draught of burning tea to calm his ragged throat and hide his emotions from Macready.
    “Not Sophie Handley, surely? I don’t know much about the female in question, but I believe she is destined to be Cantrill’s,” Macready replied, a warning note to his voice.
    “No. Miss Williams. She wants t-t-to read to me. T-to help with...this.” He shrugged one shoulder. ’Twas terribly awkward to talk about his strange affliction, even with Macready. After all, the lieutenant had deep gashes all along one arm and up one leg, wounds that were taking forever to heal. Whilst James himself had gotten only a few nicks.
    It made a fellow wonder if, deep down inside, he was really a coward after all. Why else would he be so affected by injuries that had been so slight?
    “Well, that could be most entertaining, you know. Is she pretty?” Incorrigible Macready, always ready to seek out a lovely new face. Even so, an unreasonable dart of jealousy shot through James. He played down his response so that Macready would leave him in peace.
    “P-pretty enough,” he allowed. “Let’s hope she d-doesn’t like G-gothic novels.” But even as he spoke the words, James was prepared to take them back. He’d be willing to listen to the most overwrought of Gothic horrors if it meant spending more time basking in the warm glow of Miss Williams’s company.

Chapter Two
    ’T was Thursday, Lucy’s day of rest from her duties in the schoolroom. Never before had she been so grateful for a day away from her charges. Amelia was making her debut in just a few days’ time, and the entire house was in chaos as preparations mounted for her dinner party.
    Amelia herself was absent from lessons all week, as Lord Bradbury had pressed Sophie into service, coaching Amelia on all the finer points of etiquette and deportment. Bereft of her sister and generally overlooked in the confusion, Louisa moped about her schoolwork, her large dark eyes filling with tears as she studied her Latin declensions.
    And Sophie, working as both seamstress and mistress of proper decorum, was taxed to her limit. Lucy had not spent more than a few moments in Sophie’s company since the past Sunday, and the absence of her only friend and confidante began to pall.
    So, once she was dressed and ready to face the day, she marched down to Sophie’s room to say good morning. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of meeting with the ensign today. She’d never really read anything aloud before—and certainly not to a young man. It would help immensely to have Sophie nearby. She wouldn’t be quite so nervous with a friend close at hand.
    “Ugh. Enter,” a decidedly sleepy voice muttered in response to Lucy’s knock.
    Lucy poked her head in as Sophie pulled the coverlet high over her head. “Sophie? You are awake, aren’t you?”
    “Yes. Awake but rebellious. I am entirely unwilling to face the day.” Sophie wriggled farther under her covers as Lucy perched on the bed.
    “Cheer up, chicken. We’re going to the veterans’ group this morning. You can see your lieutenant again.” And, of course, she could see that interesting young ensign. The heat rose in her cheeks at that thought. Not that he would be hanging on her every word, of course. But it would be quite nice to see him and speak to him again.
    “No, I cannot go.” Sophie sat up and threw the coverlet back, revealing her woebegone face. Dark circles ringed her pretty blue eyes, and her pink-and-white complexion had taken on a sallow tone. She gave her tangled curls a shake. “I have too much to do. You’ll have to go without me. And