Will She Be Mine Read Online Free Page A

continue on his own. Mrs.
Edley opened the door to him and led him into the front parlor where his
potential employer awaited his arrival.
    “Mr. Smith, mum,” the housekeeper announced, glaring at him.
He stoically ignored her, having been forewarned by Angus McLeod to “Show no
fear, laddie, and all will be well.” She waved him farther into the room. “The
solicitor.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Edley. Would you bring us some tea,
please?”
     
    Mr. Smith proved to be a dark, meticulously correct
gentleman in his mid-thirties. His was a powerful build, almost pugilistic, and
Amelia had no trouble believing he could intimidate her smaller, rounder
solicitor. He gave his particulars and after being hired, listened attentively
to Amelia before offering his advice.
    “Miss Horton, Mr. Shufflebottom is bringing your quarterly
allowance this afternoon, is this not correct?”
    “It is.”
    He cleared his throat behind his hand, then gave her a
friendly but cunning look. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I suggest we use a little
stratagem. Understand, I do not normally prefer to act in such a fashion toward
a fellow solicitor, but sometimes needs must. So I suggest you meet him alone
and accept your money from him before we reveal my presence or your desire to
exchange his services for mine.”
    “You believe he might otherwise withhold my funds?”
    “Quite likely. I will set your wishes in motion immediately
upon my return to Whitby. However, Mr. Shufflebottom has the power to make the
process difficult.”
    “I see. We will proceed as you suggest.”

Chapter Five
     
    When Angus interrupted him, Thaddeus was working—or rather
trying to work—among his specimens in the large conservatory he��d had built
upon the purchase of this house.
    “The wee lass is here,” he said abruptly. “In the parlor.”
    The news brought about a farcical reaction. Thaddeus dropped
his wooden dibber into the full watering can sitting on the floor at his side.
The water splashed up and splattered his trouser legs. He stepped back in
surprise and almost fell over a bench upon which reposed the flat of seedlings
he’d been transplanting. The seedlings tipped off and would have hit the floor
if not for Angus’ quick action.
    “Get a hold of yourself, sir!” Angus said sharply. He placed
the seedlings somewhere safe. His master was numbly untying his apron.
    “Here? Angus? Here?”
    “Aye, sir.” Angus grabbed the apron before it landed on the
tiled floor.
    “Where’s my coat? I can’t see her in my shirt sleeves
again!”
    “I have it here,” Angus soothed. “I brought it from your
chamber before I came to fetch ye.”
    “She shouldn’t have come here,” Thaddeus pronounced, shoving
one arm into the coat without rolling down his sleeve. The other went in
likewise. “The proprieties.”
    “Och, ye need not concern yourself about those,” Angus
promised, smoothing the brown Manchester velvet jacket across his master’s
shoulders. “That battle-axe has come with her to maintain the proprieties.”
    “I’m shaking in my boots,” Thaddeus confessed. He smoothed
his hair into place and stood for inspection. “How do I look?”
    “Your boots, sir,” Angus pointed at the garden boots his
master preferred to wear in the conservatory while he worked. Grass-studded mud
freely covered the sides and soles.
    “Bloody hell,” Thaddeus cursed, staring helplessly at the
boots. “Stocking feet would be better than these.”
    “Oh, aye. But your Oxfords are jist over here,” Angus
pointed out, going to the spot where his master left his shoes when he changed
into his garden boots. A wooden chair waited nearby. “Sit yourself down and
I’ll change your boots.”
    “Thank you, Angus. You are a godsend.”
    “As ye’ve said afore.”
    “Not often enough, I’m sure,” Thaddeus pressed, holding out
first one foot and then the other. His chest felt tight, yet excitement zinged
through him like a force of nature. She was in his