His upbringing, while not without its faults, had taught him to feign politeness with ease. You, sir! Will you make a donation to our most worthy charity? Dodging a passing hackney coach, she strode across the street to accost him. Her voice gripped his neck like a mother cat grasping the scruff of her wayward offspring. In hopes of avoiding her, he crossed the cobbled street. A stern-looking older woman stood outside the humble chapel on the corner. Nor did he stop to renew their acquaintance now. She had flirted with him, and they had danced once, but he had not asked her again nor called on her afterward. Inside, he glimpsed a pretty debutante he had been introduced to at some ball or other. He cut a fine figure, although he said it himself. Walking past a linen draper’s, Richard Brockwell surveyed his reflection in the shop windows with approval. Honeycroft Honey-Spice Biscuits (Cookies) To Michelle Griep, talented writer of novels, novellas, and spot-on critiques, with love and gratitude. Map illustration by Bek Cruddace Cartography & IllustrationĪuthor is represented by Books and Such Literary Agency. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.Ĭover photography by Mike Habermann Photography, LLC Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

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