The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Historicals 1) - Page 77

“I see.”

“And you are going to marry the lovely Miss Cooper, are you not?”

“If she’ll have me, yes.”

“It would be splendid to have a mother for the band of rascals. I’d like to see you happy.”

“I’d like to see you happy, Lizzie. You’re right to give up on Jasper.”

Her mouth puckered as if she’d tasted a lemon. “You knew about that?”

“Lizzie, Jasper and I have been together a long time. There are no secrets between us.” I lowered my voice. “Not that I’m the expert when it comes to matters of the heart, but I have advice for you. Let one of the Higgins brothers or anyone respectable in town take you out for a drive or skating. I think that might just knock some sense into him.”

“That’s not right to do to the man who takes me out, though.”

“What if he’s in on it? Clive and Wayne are good people. They’d be willing pawns in our jealousy game.”

She stopped slicing and looked over at me while shaking her head. “I had no idea you were so devious.”

“Wear your Christmas dress. The blue one you had on last year at Christmas dinner. I’ll have Clive call on you here at the house.”

“I’m seeing a new side of you,” Lizzie said, laughing. “A clever, wicked side.”

“In the name of love, anything’s possible.” I straightened, wiping a dusting of flour from my elbows. “Now, I have one last request. Would you feed the children down here tonight? Miss Quinn and I have a dinner date upstairs.”

“Consider it done. And when will Mrs. Wu arrive?”

“Harley’s picking them up on Saturday. He’ll help them get settled.”

“There are three narrow beds in that room,” Lizzie said. “I hope they’re not the type to toss and turn at night, or they’ll fall right out of the bed.”

“You should see what they’re sleeping on now,” I said.

“Lord Barnes, you’re a fine man,” Lizzie said. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“Thank you, Lizzie.” Touched, I ducked out of the room before she could say anything further.

The Johnsons’ dry goods store smelled of sugar, wool, and leather. Shelves held copious items, including shoes, work boots, overalls, stationery, soaps, polish, and home items such as kitchenware and lanterns. Wooden barrels were filled with taffy, salt crackers, rice, and anything else one could need. In the corner nearest the counter, a shiny black Singer sewing machine was on display.

Mrs. Johnson was with a customer, so I occupied myself by scanning the rolls of fabric on the shelf behind her. There were several different heavy wools: a forest green, dark blue, charcoal gray, and black.

After the man left, Mrs. Johnson gave me one of her sweet smiles and asked what she

could do for me.

“I’d like to purchase some wool for a woman’s coat,” I said. “But I don’t know what color.” The state of Quinn’s coat and boots had been weighing on me for weeks. She wouldn’t get through the rest of the winter with those boots. Her threadbare coat was simply not warm enough for our winters.

“What colors does she like?” she asked. “Who is it for?”

I laughed under my breath. If I told Mrs. Johnson who it was for, the news would have reached the entire town by nightfall. “My sister back home in England,” I said. Strange how easily that lie rolled from my tongue.

“And what’s her coloring?”

“She’s fair with blond hair and brown eyes.” I reached into a bowl on the counter containing buttons and picked up a brown button. “This color.”

“Interesting,” Mrs. Johnson said. “She must look a lot like Miss Cooper.”

I laughed. That didn’t take long. “Mrs. Johnson, what a strange thing for you to say.”

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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