Love in Three-Quarter Time Read Online Free

spencer for overtop the gown of some fortunate young lady. The relaxed moment before the crackling fire seemed ideal to broach the matter pressing on her heart. She leaned forward on the brocade settee, another relic of their former life.
    â€œDoes your announcement have something to do with Molyneux?” Patience rested her head on Constance’s shoulder for a moment. “When you returned sullen and silent, I assumed matters went poorly.”
    â€œNo, things did not go as I hoped. But…” Constance clapped her hands together to ensure their full attention. “While there, I learned of an opportunity—one that I hope to seize, one that could make a true difference for us.”
    Mother blinked up from the fabric held too close to her face. So much sewing wreaked havoc on the poor woman’s eyesight. She shook out her hand, no doubt stiff from so many long hours at the task. “Well, what is it? Why the grand introduction?”
    Constance bit her lip as she fought down apprehension. “It might involve a bit of a risk. And a bit of a change. But it could be precisely the chance we’ve been needing.”
    â€œEnough of the mystery.” Patience bumped her with an elbow. “Do tell.”
    â€œThere is a Mrs. Beaumont of Charlottesville in desperate search of a dance instructor and willing to pay an exorbitant sum.” Constance held her breath, awaiting their response.
    For a moment no one spoke. The idea took time to sink in, to be certain. It would raise a myriad of complications, which Constance had not dared to examine at this point.
    â€œAnd Molyneux offered to send you? To recommend you?” Patience asked.
    â€œNot at all.” Constance stared down at her hands. “He snubbed me as usual. But I witnessed his tirade about the nerve of that woman. He plans to suggest she come to Richmond, but I thought I might find a way to approach her myself.”
    â€œMrs. Beaumont.” Mother placed her needlework on the side table. “I know a Mrs. Beaumont. We arrived from England about the same time in similar circumstances. I’ve crossed paths with her on a number of occasions over the years. Let me think now.” She tapped a finger to her mouth. “Aye, I recall. She was Mrs. Montgomery at the start.”
    The name Montgomery crashed in Constance’s head like a cymbal and continued to reverberate as Mother chattered. But Constance could not bring herself to speak.
    â€œAn innkeeper’s daughter from Manchester, although from her airs you’d think her the child of a duchess. When her first husband passed, she married Beaumont. Aye, she’s from Charlottesville. She had twin daughters the same age Felicity was. That I remember for certain. They played together once when we visited Serena. Yes, yes. She was a charming woman, sweet children. I remember now. We reminisced about life in England all the afternoon long. Why, I could send her a letter or, better yet, have Serena write one.”
    Felicity pushed back her reddish-blonde hair and frowned. “Constance can’t leave us.”
    Grammy gave Felicity a squeeze. “I assure thee she’d return, darling.”
    Constance still struggled to form a coherent thought in the wake of hearing Montgomery’s name. Dare she ask?
    Patience spoke before she had a chance. “We mustn’t let this opportunity pass, Felicity. We can’t keep working ourselves nearly to death. The plan was for me to tend shop and you and mother to sew while Constance built up a business that could support us and allow us to relax a bit. Maybe open that school. We’ve all been burning the candle at both ends.”
    â€œPrecisely.” Constance nodded in agreement. That was precisely why it did not matter if her Montgomery was related to this Mrs. Beaumont.
    â€œIn fact,” Patience said, “I don’t think we should wait on a letter at all. If these girls are