“Thank you.” Uncle James raised both hands toward the ceiling as if to convey that his prayers had been answered. Dropping them to his sides he told her gravely, “I know you have your apprehensions, but you mustn’t worry. I’ll double check all your work before we deliver it just to be sure no further mistakes arise. All right?”
Seeing no other choice, she agreed and prepared to do what should have been done several days before.
8
Anthony was perfectly aware of the fact that the large collections of flowers he’d sent to Between the Pages might have been slightly over the top. He probably ought to have saved the expense which now meant he’d have to cut back on other purchases for a whole week.
One bouquet, possibly two, or maybe three, would surely have been enough. But he’d been beside himself and had wanted to prove a point.
I like you a lot, was the general message he’d meant to convey.
Truth was, it was quite a bit more than that.
He mourned the loss of Miss Quinn’s company, the conversations they’d shared, that spark of awareness he felt when they were together, and the delightful anticipation of their paths crossing once more.
Not to mention the wonderful help she’d provided. He’d conveyed her advice to Brody and Callum, and while they’d been just as unhappy as he to start over, they’d agreed it was necessary.
Pride and Prejudice had also been useful. Miss Quinn had been quite correct to make him read it. But she herself had suddenly put a halt to their newfound friendship. Without so much as an explanation.
When he’d asked her uncle if he could provide some insight, the man had, much to Anthony’s aggravation, merely shrugged his shoulders and said he’d no idea why his niece chose not to see him. Only that she was busy.
Busy.
That was the lousiest excuse Anthony knew. However busy Miss Quinn might be, she surely had enough time to let him return her book. The task need not have taken more than five minutes at most.
But no. She’d shut the door and closed herself off, leaving him with very little recourse when it came to getting her attention.
He grinned as he re-read the note he’d received from her that afternoon. Apparently, he’d met with success.
My determination is clearly no match for yours. I look forward to seeing you at your convenience. Ada Quinn.
Perfect. He had her given name now as well.
The notion filled his chest with a warm sort of bubbly sensation. It wasn’t satisfaction, precisely, but something more that he couldn’t quite find the word for.
Crossing to his desk, he set her note down and proceeded to write one of his own.
Miss Quinn, I am delighted to hear from you though I am still at a loss with regard to your reason for cutting me off. It is my sincerest hope that you will explain yourself to me when we meet again. If it suits you, we’ll have a picnic this coming Saturday afternoon with my fellow authors in Green Park. I’ll pick you up at three. In the meantime, I am including a re-write of what my friends and I have decided to name, A Seductive Scandal, for your perusal.
Respectfully,
Anthony Gibbs.
When no protestation to his proposal arrived in the following days, Anthony collected the picnic basket he’d ordered and set off Saturday afternoon with an extra bounce to his stride. It was curious how thrilled he was by the prospect of seeing Miss Quinn again, of chatting with her and spending a full afternoon in her company.
It wasn’t a romantic outing, he reminded himself. He’d been careful to make sure Brody and Callum would be there too. So Miss Quinn wouldn’t worry about him being too pushy after the flowers. But the way he felt told a different story from what he’d chosen to put on display.
Miss Quinn was special, the connection he’d experienced with her each time they’d met as unique as each puffy cloud in the sky. Truth was, he wanted more than friendship with her, but how was he to accomplish such a feat? Would she even welcome such a change to their relationship?
For now, he decided to keep things simple. She’d agreed to meet and this was a start. Wherever things went from there, he’d deal with it in due course.
“She’s waiting for you in the back,” Mr. Quinn informed Anthony when he arrived. The older man smiled, sent the door to the back room a hasty glance, and whispered, “Thank you for not giving up.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Anthony said as he hefted the large picnic basket onto the counter and blew out a breath. Then choosing to speak from the heart, he quickly added, “Some things are worth pursuing forever.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Mr. Quinn said. He crossed to the door and opened it, allowing Anthony to catch a glimpse of Miss Quinn. She was standing with her back toward him, her hands on her hips, and her attention seemingly riveted by a large book bound in black leather. “Mr. Gibbs has arrived, Ada.”
Miss Quinn spun to face them, the look on her face suggesting she’d not heard them enter. Her lips parted, increasing her flustered appearance. She seemed to shake it off and begin searching the room. “Oh. Good. I’ll, um…just grab my bonnet. And my reticule. Maybe a shawl as well?”
