Priscilla half-remembered the story.She’d been too preoccupied with her own troubles of late to pay attention to a hoodlum seeking justice.Or at least that’s what the papers said.Who knew the truth?“What does the article say?”
While she wasn’t certain she cared about the details, Clara had the right of it, discussing something to distract Priscilla from the fact no one had arrived was a good idea.It had to be one o’clock by now and still not a single gentleman had responded to her ad.
“It says that he chased a cutpurse to the docks.”
“Did he return the purse?Apprehend the thieves?”
Clara scanned the article.“Doesn’t say.”
Priscilla frowned.“Not even articles in the paper have a happy ending.What do you think that says about my story?”
Clara touched her arm, likely afraid to answer because they both feared the truth.Eugene just might win.
Which made Priscilla bristle.What kind of world stacked the odds so clearly to one side that men like Eugene could best her?
“What does your mother say?”
Priscilla winced at the mention of her mother.“She’s doing an admirable job of buying me time by openly taking up the fight with Eugene.I don’t know how to thank her other than to find a husband as quickly as possible and move her out of the house that she’s called home for the last thirty years.”Neither wanted to leave.All their best memories were there, surrounded by her father’s things.But they had to escape Eugene.
Clara started rubbing Priscilla’s arm.“You’ll succeed, I’m sure of it.If no one answers the ad today, let’s call upon Mona and Brax.”
Priscilla gave a silent nod as she looked into her friend’s angelic face.A halo of blonde hair and large blue eyes looked like they belonged in a classic painting as Clara gave her a sympathetic smile.“I agree.Thank you for coming today.I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Clara shook her head.“Think nothing of—” But she stopped as a thumping noise caught both their ears.
Priscilla looked up.A lone man crossed the cobblestone, walking with a cane, which caused the echoing noise radiating through the open space.Her heart began to loudly thump in her chest at the sight of a man, any man, in the courtyard.
Even from this distance, he appeared to have a slight limp.
“Oh my,” Clara whispered as if echoing Priscilla’s own heartbeat.
Priscilla cocked her head to the side as she studied him.Despite the limp that had instantly caught her attention and the fanciful worries of her imagination that some beast of a man would be the only one to respond to her call, he was tall and broad, he didn’t look too old, nor too young.He was well dressed, though not a dandy to be certain.His clothing had a neat but careless air that spoke of masculine confidence.
Her breath caught as she squinted her eyes to see him better.
His hat was tipped slightly to one side, shadowing half of his face, but dark hair curled out of the other side, its waves enviable to any man—or woman for that matter.
He stopped just at the entrance and pulled out a pocket watch, clicking it open and checking the time with deliberate movements that held a touch of stiffness but a great deal of dexterity.
“Priscilla,” Clara hissed, the hand that had been patting her arm, locking into a death grip around her biceps.“Do you think…” But her words faded out as the man looked toward the bushes they were hiding behind and stared directly at them as though he knew they were there.
Priscilla straightened.Of course he saw them.The bushes were not a solid wall.Which meant there was no backing out now.
He took a paper out from under his left arm and refolded the pages, tucking it back under his right.Was that his way of signaling that he was answering the ad?Why hadn’t she thought of a signal beforehand?
With a gulp of air and a little shake, Priscilla dislodged Clara’s fingers from her upper arm and took her friend’s hand in hers.“Now isn’t the time to become scared.Shall we?”
Clara shook her head.“I disagree.Now is precisely the time.”
That made Priscilla smile.At least a little.“Either way, I’d like to meet him.I’ve come too far to stop now and besides, Eugene is at home waiting for me.”
“A motivator if ever there was one,” Clara murmured as she straightened her spine.“I’m ready if you are.”
“Ready.”Holding Clara’s hand, she stepped from her spot behind the bushes.
* * *
Wyatt had seenthem long before he’d reached the entrance to the garden.Neither had worn skirts that would blend into shrubbery and he’d trained his eye to search for detail.Not that much training had been required for this particular endeavor.One set of skirts was a particularly bright shade of periwinkle blue while the other a light lavender.
