The Memory of Your Kiss by Wilma Counts Read Free Book Online

serves.” He lifted his cup to take a swallow of tea.
    She arched an eyebrow. “He protects. She serves. Does that sound equal to you? Not to mention the moral restrictions to which she must adhere while he may go his merry way.”
    He nearly choked on his tea. “Good grief. Do you mean what I think you mean?”
    “If you perceive that I think husbands and wives should both respect the sanctity of their marriage vows, yes.”
    “My dear Miss Waverly. Sydney, that is not the way of the world for much—some would say most—of society.”
    “I know. And isn’t that sad?”
    “Don’t you two look inordinately serious?”
    Celia approached with Ensign Harrelson.
    “Did you enjoy taking the waters?” Sydney asked, and Zachary thought she welcomed the interruption.
    Harrelson made a face behind Celia’s back, but she turned in time to catch him and they all laughed at his chagrin.
    The general conversation took a much lighter tone as Celia said, “Do watch for Mrs. Moseby. She is wearing a hat made with peacock feathers. I vow every time she turns her head, it’s like that creature in Greek mythology with all those eyes staring at you.”
    “The Cyclops?” Harrelson offered.
    Celia laughed. “No, no. Cyclops had only one eye. Even I know that.”
    “You mean the hundred-eyed giant, Argus,” Sydney said.
    “Yes! That’s the one.”
    That afternoon, Zachary discovered yet another dimension to the character of this woman he was finding so intriguing, despite her bizarre ideas on the role of women. When an excursion to the Abbeywas proposed, others begged off. Celia had a fitting at a dress shop; Herbert and Pelham had arranged to look at a horse; and Harrelson announced that he was not interested in some moldy old church.
    “That leaves you and me to uphold the group’s aesthetic interests,” Zachary quipped to Sydney.
    “I am sure we will prove equal to the task,” she said. “My father would never forgive my not visiting the Abbey.”
    Out on the street, he offered his arm, which she readily took. He delighted in even this slight physical connection with her. The day being overcast, but not yet threatening rain, they took a long, circuitous route to the Abbey Church which, in fact, was not far from the Pump Rooms. Zachary hoped she relished their just being together as much as he did.
    They chatted amiably about Bath history, making up personalities for Roman generals whose troops must have ousted the earliest natives to commandeer this spot and build the elaborate system of hot and cold baths. In the piazza in front of the Abbey, they found street vendors and musicians vying with each other for sightseers’ attention. Zachary and Sydney admired the stone angels climbing Jacob’s ladder on the exterior, then moved within to appreciate the serene quietness of the interior.
    They took an equally circuitous route as Zachary escorted her home to Queen Square. Traffic on the streets was rather heavy as people ventured forth to see and be seen. Hearing a sudden shout, Zachary and Sydney turned to behold a horrifying scene that he thought seemed to pass before them in almost suspended motion.
    A small yapping dog dashed under the clashing feet of a team. Right behind the dog was a little boy of four or five years screaming, “No! Scotty! No!” The driver sawed at the reins. The horses neighed and reared. The child fell and lay prone on the cobblestones, apparently clipped by a horse’s hoof. The carriage came to a wobbling standstill.
    The driver shouted, “Oh, my God! They come outa nowhere.”
    A woman’s querulous voice called from within the vehicle, “What on earth—?”
    Instantly, Sydney was kneeling over the child’s body, dangerously close to the team’s prancing hooves. The little dog took a stand at the boy’s head, wagging its tail. Zachary sprang to grab at the harness of a lead horse’s head to try to calm the team.
    Oblivious to gathering onlookers, Sydney put her head to the boy’s