“That is true,” Juliet grudgingly admitted. “In any case, our dear brother Darden will be waiting for us and he shall understand your requirements perfectly, Rosalind.”
“Courage,” Viola said with a sigh. “If you found a brave man with red hair, I should go mad over it.”
“Viola,” Cordelia said, “you are the only one of us so tempted by red hair.”
“I would not care if his hair were green,” Rosalind said, “as long as he is brave and courageous.” Rosalind paused. “Well, perhaps not green, I am hopeful he is attractive, but courage must be the primary thing.”
They had entered the town proper and the carriage slowed as was always the way in London. One might race one’s carriage all across England but there was no racing through Town in the middle of the day. Thousands of people of all sorts had places to go and were determined to go there.
Rosalind peered out the window at all of the bustle. Farmer’s carts, hackneys, private carriages, pedestrians, and gentlemen on horseback all weaved and dodged and hurried to their destinations.
Very suddenly a particular gentleman on horseback caught her eye.
Rosalind’s breath caught.
What was this magnificence before her?
He sat exceedingly tall in the saddle, his divine coat not showing the slightest crease. His hair was that of a gentle-baked loaf—a very light brown that was soft in its coloring and likely to darken in the cold months. His profile was so well-formed—a strong jaw, high cheekbones and straight nose.
As she was admiring this very wonderful-looking person, a young child escaped her mother’s hand and ran out onto the street.
Rosalind watched in horror as carriage horses’ hooves bore down on the little mite.
The magnificent gentleman saw the oncoming disaster, maneuvered round, and swept the girl up and out of the way of a carriage. He trotted to the pavement, depositing the girl in the arms of her hysterical mother.
The gentleman tipped his hat, turned a corner, and was gone.
Chapter Two
Rosalind sat back.Her hands shook in her lap. That man, whoever he was, well, he was positively glorious in both person and action. She had never seen such a specimen of a gentleman. Surely, the fates had arranged that she see him at this moment—this fine moment of courageous action.
Yes, she felt in her heart that it was so.
“It is him,” she said. “I have seen him. Gracious, he is marvelous.”
“Seen who, my dear?” Miss Mayton inquired.
“Him.Mygentleman.”
Miss Mayton leaned over and peered out the window, as did Cordelia, Viola, and Juliet, all piling onto Rosalind’s side and making the carriage rock on its springs.
“You will not see him,” Rosalind said from underneath the muslin of Juliet’s dress. “He has turned a corner and is gone. But Aunt, Sisters, he is here!”
“You felt the signs?” Miss Mayton asked, settling herself back in her seat and grasping Rosalind’s hand from across the carriage.
Nobody had need of detailing the signs of true love, as Miss Mayton had explained them thoroughly. One felt as if one’s hair had been struck by lightning, and one was drowning but taking in more air, and one’s heart sped up though one felt well.
“Indeed,” Rosalind said, “particularly my heart speeding up. As well, you can feel my hand in yours, it is shaking.”
“Goodness,” Cordelia said, putting Bess back on her lap, “he is here and now you must only encounter him at a ball or a party!”
“Then, he’ll do something courageous to prove his love and before you know it, you are on your way to church,” Juliet said.
“He just now saved a young girl from being trampled,” Rosalind said. “The fates have arranged the display to point him out to me, I am certain of it.”
“He has shown his courageousness,” Viola said. “Surely he will show it on your behalf too.”
“I will write an ode about it,” Juliet said. “Ode to the Heroic Gentleman.”
