Madame Chapelle’s
Clements Lane
Kitty blinked and rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms over her head. She could hear voices, probably in the kitchen. Had she overslept? A male voice rose above the others.
Pa.
She tossed back the counterpane and pulled on her robe. By the time her fingers touched the handle, something was scratching the other side of the door. When she opened it, Terry’s wagging tail and wiggling body greeted her with an excited bark. She fell to her knees and hugged him, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Holding him in her arms, Kitty ran down the short hall and burst into the kitchen. Her father was there, cap in his hand, still wearing his long coat from his last shift. She set Terry down and threw herself into her father’s arms, her breaths coming in short gasps.
“I missed you so, so much,” she cried into his neck. “Is it over? Tell me it’s over.” She hugged him with all her might as he twirled her in a circle.
“Time for you to come home, luv,” he said.
Her heart pounded, happiness welling up in her chest and spilling over in more tears. When he finally loosened his hold, and her feet were firmly back on the floor, she turned to her new friends.
Like her, Genie and Lydia both wore their nightclothes and mobcaps.
“We will miss you,” said Lydia, holding out her arms.
“But we’ll see you almost every day,” added Genie, waiting for her turn to hug Kitty.
“Pa—” She turned around to face her father again as Ben entered from the parlor.
“There’s the hero of the day,” said her father.
“Hero?” she asked, staring at the handsome man who had stolen her heart. Kitty longed to fling herself into his arms, but there were so many people in the small space.
“His quick thinking saved my life. Didn’t know he even owned a pistol,” Pa told everyone.
“A p-pistol?” Fear caught in her throat. How close had she come to losing the men she loved? Because she’d admitted to herself this week that she was madly, crazy in love with Mr. Benjamin Cooper.
“Never used it,” Ben said, taking a step closer.
His brown-gold eyes studied her, then he held out his arms. “I don’t care if this is appropriate or not,” he said, his voice husky.
“I believe I’ll serve tea in the parlor. Mr. Felton, would you join us?” asked Lydia.
Her father grinned. “Delighted to.”
Kitty almost knocked the poor man over when the room was empty. “I knew you would fix everything. I knew I could trust you.” She kissed him on his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, his nose. “Thank you!”
Ben loosened his hold and let her slide back down to the floor. His gaze locked with hers, as if proving to himself she was there, then bent his head to kiss her. He pressed his lips to hers, and she kissed him back.
“I brought you a present,” he murmured against her hair.
“I’m starting to enjoy surprises,” she said, putting her hands behind back. “Should I close my eyes?”
“Yes.”
She did but heard him walk away, then return.
“Open your eyes,” he said.
She did, and he was holding a large package wrapped in brown paper. Kitty raised a questioning brow but took the package and sat at the table. Ben joined her as she untied the string.
“Oh my,” she gasped as she peeked in small pouches holding wonderful goodies. There were beads and feathers and tiny braiding… a treasure trove of supplies that would have cost a small fortune.
