Both Thomas and Rebecca sent him appreciative looks.
One of Miss Newport’s shapely eyebrows rose. “A vicar’s daughter. How ... respectable.” She added in self-deprecating tones, “You may wish to move to another table, Miss Lane, for I am but a lowly actress and singer.”
“Not at all. I ... like music,” Miss Lane kindly replied.
An actress!Frederick inwardly groaned. It was worse than he’d thought.
Thomas added, “Miss Newport is very talented. Sings like an angel.”
Frederick changed the subject. “Even though Miss Lane was our neighbor for years, we have not seen her in some time. She has been away traveling.”
“How exciting!” Miss Newport said. “Where did you go?”
“Bath, Brighton, France...”
“I would love to travel,” Miss Newport said dreamily.
“But you have traveled here, Miss Newport,” Frederick said. “May I ask where you come from?”
Thomas kicked him under the table.
“I have lived in several places, but I grew up in Birmingham. My family are all gone now, except an uncle.”
“I am sorry to hear it. Have your parents been gone long?”
“Yes, Mamma ages ago and Papa during the Peninsular War.”
Before Frederick could pose another question, Miss Newport asked one of her own. “Are you back to stay, Miss Lane?”
“Oh. I am ... um, just here visiting my brother.”
Miss Newport leaned nearer. “I always longed to have a brother. Does he travel with you?”
Rebecca shook her head. “He prefers to stay at home.”
Frederick wished the woman would change the topic, which clearly discomfited Miss Lane.
“A man of leisure, is he?”
“No. A writer and proofreader. Quite talented.”
“Would I have read something he’s written?”
Miss Lane met her gaze, a parade of emotions flickering behind her eyes, turning them from hazel-green to dull brown.
“I am afraid not,” she replied. Then added in an undertone, “Not knowingly.”
“Ah! A writer for hire, ey?” Thomas sagely observed. “A ‘free-lance’ so to speak. A publisher I met once boasted of employing a large contingent of writers and illustrators.” He turned to Rebecca. “And are you a writer as well?”
“Heavens, no—I leave that to John. Although we have always been avid readers in my family.”
Frederick nodded. “Yes, Miss Lane’s father often promoted the benefits of reading.”
Miss Lane looked at him. “That sounds like Papa.”
“And I remember your mother as a gracious and intelligent woman.”
“Thank you for saying so. I quite agree.” She smiled at last. A truly lovely, toothy smile that carved deep dimples in her cheeks. Frederick’s heart warmed at the sight.Careful, old boy. She’s too young foryou. Too ... everything.
