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Honoria’s face brightened upon finding him with Priscilla and the Ugbrooke family. “Miss Pratt. How lovely to see you! And you Mr. Ugbrooke. Are these your children?”
Ugbrooke had the decency to bow. “They are, my lady. May I introduce Vincent and Mary?”
“Miss Pratt extended a kind invitation to join them in a stroll through the park,” Timothy said, barely taking a breath before continuing. “But I was about to inform them we must respectfully decline. I’ve completely forgotten I’m expected at the clinic this afternoon to relieve Dr. Somersby.” It was a lie. Harry had given him the day off. However, spending more time with Priscilla was decidedly not a good idea. He needed distance from her and her tempting lips.
If Honoria was disappointed, she hid it well. “Perhaps another time then.” She turned toward Timothy, holding up a book. “Success! While you toil away at the clinic, I shall pass the time with my nose in my new book.”
What a biddable wife she would make. So accommodating. So undemanding. So . . . unexciting. He didn’t blame Honoria. She was a fine woman, kind, honest, generous. But she wasn’t . . .No!He wouldn’t allow his mind to finish that sentence.
“Did you find anything of interest?” Honoria asked.
Timothy forced himself not to look at Priscilla. “Yes, I think I did. I’ll grab it on the way out. Allow me.” He removed the book from Honoria’s hands. “My treat.”
With a curt nod of his head, he bid Priscilla, Ugbrooke, and the two rambunctious children goodbye, then grabbing the book he’d been considering when so pleasantly interrupted, he guided Honoria to the counter to pay.
The sooner he removed himself from Priscilla’s presence, the better.
CHAPTER 17—THE PURLOINED RETICULE
Priscilla blinked, her mind whirling at the speed with which Timothy hurried away. One would think either she, Mr. Ugbrooke, or the children had some horrible contagious disease. She gazed down at Vincent, wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve.
Then again . . .
“Have you selected anything of interest, Miss Pratt?” Mr. Ugbrooke asked.
Oh, indeed.Unfortunately, it was something she could not purchase. “I’ve sent the shopkeeper on a quest for a new romantic novel.”
Mr. Ugbrooke snorted in disapproval. “I suggest you ask what Lady Honoria acquired. As a lady of quality, I’m sure her taste is impeccable.”
His dig hit its mark with resounding precision, but Priscilla feigned ignorance and forced another smile. “An excellent idea, Mr. Ugbrooke.” God help her if this was any indication of life with Mr. Ugbrooke. Constantly looking down his nose at her, criticizing every choice she made, and holding her up to standards she would never meet did not bode well for wedded bliss.
He held several primers in his hands. “I’ve found these for the children. Lessons on moral development.”
Even though she suspected Vincent didn’t fully understand the words, the boy groaned.
Silently, she commiserated.
After enquiring with the bookseller, they discovered Honoria had purchased the last copy ofGaston de Blondeville.
“I shouldn’t comment,” the shopkeeper said. “But I found it dreadfully boring. I fear the good lady might wish to return it. If she does, I could notify you.”
Priscilla stifled a laugh. “That’s quite all right, sir. And knowing Lady Honoria as I do, even if she doesn’t enjoy it, I doubt she would return it.” Curiosity spurred her. “What of Dr. Marbry? Is the book he purchased available?”
The man’s eyes lit up. “Indeed. I have one more copy of it.” He motioned for her to follow, then stopped at a stack a short distance away. He scrunched up his nose. “It’s by an American author, James Fenimore Cooper, but it has become very popular. It seems there is an interest in the wilds and natives of America.”
He placed the book in her hands.The Last of the Mohicans.It didn’t sound very exciting. Why would she want to read about thelastof anything? But reading the same thing as Timothy held a certain appeal. “I’ll take it.” She avoided Mr. Ugbrooke’s response, not wishing to witness if he disapproved nor caring if he did.
Purchases in hand, they exited the shop, the children and Priscilla waiting for Mr. Ugbrooke’s verdict regarding their behavior. The children were blessedly silent, exchanging glances with each other and with her, but avoiding their father’s scowl. Their restraint made her believe all was not lost regarding the park.
Impatience won out, and Priscilla breached the interminable quiet. She threaded her hand through Mr. Ugbrooke’s arm, giving it the lightest of squeezes. “I would so love a stroll in the park. It would be a shame to waste the sunshine by sitting indoors.”
He turned his steely gray eyes toward her and gave a sharp nod. “Very well.”
Thank the stars!
“But the moment you misbehave, we leave.”
Priscilla wasn’t entirely sure if Mr. Ugbrooke had directed the warning toward the children or her, but she resolved to be on her most agreeable behavior, and the children nodded their little blond heads.
