Miss Richardson Comes Of Age (Zebra Regency Romance) by Wilma Counts Read Free Book Online Page B

rather inefficient in terms of time.” Thorne hoped he sounded sympathetic enough to the printer’s problems to soften the man to persuasion.
    “Well, it is, but Mr. Murray, he sets the rules—and pays the bill.” The man paused, then added, “But we don’t often have questions with this writer. She has a very neat hand, you see.”
    Thorne had started to leave, but turned back, latching on to a grain of hope. “Does she now? Would you happen to have a sample that I might see?”
    “Might have.” The printer rummaged around, in, and on a messy desk in the corner. “Ah, here we go.”
    The sheet of paper contained only the title of the story, Innocence Betrayed, the author’s name, Emma Bennet, and three sentences of printing suggestions. Thorne saw that, indeed, the script was very neat—and the Bennet woman had decided ideas about how she wanted her work to appear.
    He fished a coin from a pocket and said, “Would you be willing to part with this sheet?”
    “Well, now, I just don’t know.” The printer eyed the coin and shook his head.
    Thorne mentally measured the man’s greed, then fished out another coin and the man nodded. The exchange was made and Thorne left, pleased that he had a start at least.
     
     
    “Annabelle,” Celia challenged, “are you sure you have no idea who this Emma Bennet is?”
    Annabelle, Letty, and Celia sat around a tea table having a “comfortable coze” in Letty’s private sitting room. It was a well-appointed room, done in Letty’s favorite shades of blue. Sunlight spilled in through opened draperies.
    “Well, I have ideas, of course,” Annabelle hedged. “I think we all do.” She reached for another biscuit, then thought of the cream-colored silk she intended to wear to the Bradleys’s ball next week. She pulled her hand back. She wished these two would find another topic to discuss.
    “Well, I think you may be Emma Bennet,” Letty announced with a penetrating look at Annabelle. “You were ever the best writer among us.”
    Annabelle groaned. “Oh, Letty! We go through this every time Miss Bennet publishes something new.”
    “Yes—and everything she writes has a certain sound of Annabelle Richardson to it.”
    “Sheer coincidence, I am sure. I do hope you are not voicing that opinion abroad,” Annabelle added in some alarm. She hated deceiving her friends so, but right now it seemed more necessary than ever.
    “Well, of course not. I am not such a ninny as that. You are my friend, after all.”
    “For which I am most grateful.”
    “So—tell us. Did you write Innocence Betrayed?”
    Annabelle sighed. “Letty, you must know that even if I had done so, it would be better if you remained ignorant of such.”
    “She is right,” Celia said, setting her teacup down with a clatter. “You never could lie very well, Letty.”
    Letty gave a little pout of protest.
    Annabelle patted Letty’s hand. “ ’Tis probably best that none of us professes too much interest in public about the author of this particular piece.”
    “I suppose you are right,” Letty agreed reluctantly. “It is rather a naughty piece—but deliciously so!”
    Celia laughed. “I loved the passage where Brewster was bragging about his ‘swordsmanship.’ So did Frederick.”
    “Celia!” Letty’s tone gave an exaggerated impression of a shocked matron. “Do remember that we have an unmarried woman with us!”
    “An unmarried woman who—while we were still at school—told us about the birds and the bees,” Celia reminded them.
    “Speaking of which, I have some news.” Letty paused dramatically.
    “Speaking of what?” Celia asked.
    “The birds and the bees,” Letty explained patiently.
    Celia and Annabelle exchanged puzzled looks, then seemed simultaneously to grasp the import of Letty’s announcement.
    “You are increasing!” Celia said with a low squeal of delight.
    “A babe,” Annabelle breathed. “How wonderful. When?”
    Letty blushed. “Late autumn, we think.