The Lamplighter's Love Read Online Free

Nicholas confirmed. “Although I confess it’s been
too long by far since I saw daylight. Or snow. Or . . . this many
people. This many strangers.” He glanced toward the window,
marveling at the bustling crowds visible beyond the thick panes of
glass. And then he looked back at Mary with a smile that suggested
the sight of her was a comfort.
    Beckett looked from the Lamplighter to Mary,
a speculative glimmer in his eye. But he let the moment pass and
rose with a decisive air. “Can I point you in the direction of a
book today, sir? Some poetry, perhaps? Or a tome of British
history? We also have a fine selection of technical manuals, in
deference to our near neighbors at the Lampworks.”
    “Nothing so serious, I think.”
    “A ripping tale of piracy then? Or a good
penny dreadful? Might be just the thing to help you relax after a
long day of, er . . . whatever it is you actually do down
there.”
    Within seconds, it seemed, Mary and Nicholas
had a stack of books to peruse, and cups of steaming tea brewed to
a blistering strength and sweetened heavily, as Mr. Beckett said,
to counter the possibility of shock.
    The Lamplighter—who obviously did have a
good deal more pocket money than Mary had ever dreamed—ended up
purchasing three novels, much to the delight of the proprietor.
    “One more thing, Master Lamplighter,”
Beckett said before they departed, with a twinkle in his eye.
“Allow me to present you with this complimentary umbrella as a
token of your first visit to Beckett’s. Perhaps it might help to,
ah, shield your eyes as they grow accustomed to the glare.”
    He handed over a very fine, black silk
umbrella with a beautifully carved handle of some glossy dark wood.
It was obviously well made, and obviously well used. Nicholas
accepted it and closed his eyes for just a moment, releasing a
breath as though suddenly relieved of a burden.
    “I cannot thank you enough,” he said to
Beckett. And he sounded as though he meant it with every fiber of
his being.
    And the pair ventured on their way under the
comforting shelter of the umbrella, with a bit more spring in their
step. It was obvious that between the tea, the rest and the
umbrella, Nicholas felt much fortified against the overwhelming
sight of the open sky and the sheer numbers of the crowd around
them.
    “And here’s the sweet shop,” Mary announced
brightly, blushing again as Nicholas gave her hand a little
squeeze, letting his fingers brush the backs of hers as he freed
his hand to open the door.
    They didn’t stay long. The shop was crowded,
noisy and bright, sending Nicholas into a slight panic. He
purchased a large, colorful tin of assorted sweets, and had the
shop owner wrap it in gold paper with a crisp, white ribbon.
    “I can take it to the post tomorrow for you,
if you like. Or at least send an apprentice with it,” Mary offered
as they left the small, noisy space and breathed a sigh of relief
upon hitting the relatively open pavement again. Nicholas snapped
the umbrella open as soon as they were clear of the door. The crowd
had thinned a bit, with the remaining pedestrians quickening their
strides and bundling themselves tighter against the worsening
weather. Mr. Beckett’s gift seemed almost prescient.
    “Snow,” whispered Nicholas as the first
flakes drifted softly down to settle on his outstretched hand.
“Look, Mary. It’s snow.”
    She looked, watching with him as the fat
fluff of iciness melted on the warmed leather of his glove. A
steamcar puffed by just inches away from them, and Nicholas didn’t
even flinch at it this time, so captivated was he by the wondrous
stuff falling from the previously intimidating sky.
    Like a boy, he laughed in delight and tipped
both the umbrella and his head back, closing his eyes and letting a
few snowflakes land on his outstretched tongue. The sight did
something odd to Mary’s insides, causing a funny twist in her belly
and breasts. She had to quell the urge to reach out, to steal a
flake