Regency Christmas Gifts Read Free Page A

dusting it,” the woman said.
    “ I wouldn’t mind,” Beth said, then
shyness took over. She turned her face into Mary Ann’s
skirts.
    Another moment, and the door opened wider.
“Come inside then,” the woman said. “Your mama can talk to Master
Jenkins while I find a biscuit or two. Would you please wait in the
sitting room while I rummage about for Master Jenkins?”
    “ Master Jenkins. Master of what? I
believe this day just became an adventure, Mary Ann thought. She
smiled and let the kind woman usher them in. We’ve been lean on
adventures lately. What can it hurt?
     
     

Chapter Three
    T homas looked up when Suzie
knocked on the bookroom door. You’ve rescued me , he thought,
as he told her to come in. Give me geometry any day, but don’t
give me counting house statements .
    Not that he couldn’t figure them out; far from
it. What he wanted more than anything was to be back on deck again,
at sea. Sitting behind a desk was anathema and he wanted no more of
it.
    “ I don’t like retirement,” he said
to his sister, before she could get a word out. “Please tell me
something interesting that doesn’t involve counting house
statements.”
    “ There is a quite pretty lady and
her daughter in the sitting room wishing to speak to you,” she
said. “Is that interesting enough?”
    “ Anyone you know?” he asked, getting
up. He put his hands up to straighten his neckcloth, them
remembered not bothering to put one on this morning. I am going
to rack and ruin , he thought. “I don’t look like much of a
gentleman,” he said.
    “ You never were one, except by
virtue of the Navy Board,” she replied cheerfully. “Who needs a
gentleman anyway? Don’t let it go to your head, but I always
thought you handsome enough for general purposes.”
    “ You flatter me, Sis,” he told her.
“I think.”
    “ Only a little,” she teased back.
“And now I believe I will see if Mrs. Williams has some tea and
biscuits.”
    “ That kind of a visit?” he asked, as
he started down the hall with her.
    Outside the sitting room door, she said, “They
look genteel, if a little shabby.” She gave him a push. “Go find
out.”
    His sister was quite right on both counts. A
lovely lady rose gracefully to her feet when he opened the sitting
room door. What hair he could see under her dark bonnet looked
blond. He thought her eyes were brown. She wore a cloak as
serviceable-looking as her hat. He smiled inwardly to see
mismatched gloves, which made him feel slightly less self conscious
about his neckcloth that was missing in action.
    “ I am Mrs. Poole,” she said, and
dipped a curtsy. “This is my daughter Elizabeth.”
    “ Beth, sir,” said the child, and
followed her pronouncement with a curtsy of her own. “I like your
house.”
    Who could resist that? He smiled back, noting
that she had a tooth missing. “I’m still getting used to living on
land,” a glance at her mother, “Beth.” Then, remembering his
manners, he added, “Let me take your cloaks. “We do have a maid
around here somewhere, except that she has scarpered
off.”
    Beth grinned at that, which told Thomas that
she was a girl who herself liked to scarper on occasion.
    Mrs. Poole was going to give him a hard time.
“That isn’t really necessary,” she told him, and held out a
package. “We won’t occupy much of your time. It’s this
package.”
    He took it from her and recognized the ivory
hairbrush and comb set. Mrs. Poole came a little closer and he took
an appreciative sniff of a familiar fragrance. Was it
vanilla?
    “ I am Mrs. Poole, but not this one,”
she said, pointing to the address. “We live at Carmoody Street and
not Dinwoody. I think the posting house clerks are overly busy this
time of year.”
    By gadfreys, she had a pleasant voice. The
almost-burr to her Rs placed her almost in Scotland but not
quite.
    “ I shouldn’t have opened it,” Beth
said, coming closer. “Mama wasn’t yet home from work and I