Nettie called out, “All the unmarried women form a line…except you, Bridget. I suppose you are exempt.”
Everyone chuckled at that.
“You go, Jo,” Bridget teased, pushing me toward the line that was forming. I rolled my eyes, but I went.
There were ten or twelve of us in the line. Fred stood beside me, and even Vanessa had been invited to participate. She stood shyly at the end of the row.
“Don’t be surprised if Nettie throws it straight to you, Jo,” Fred whispered.
I nudged her with my shoulder.
“You are so silly, Fred.”
Then, Nettie tossed the bouquet—straight into my hands. I wasn’t even trying to catch it.
Fred laughed and swatted my shoulder.
“I told you so!”
I didn’t dare look at Leonora or Alistair.
Garrett Goldthwaite has been spinning yarns since he was a pup. Born in the wilds of Colorado to a prospector and a squaw, he managed to get a first-rate education despite these humble upbringings. He can draw faster, shoot straighter and ride better than almost anyone in the territories—just ask him. If you’re looking for a thrilling tale of derring-do, then Goldthwaite’s books are for you!
Also by Garrett Goldthwaite:
Sensible Sally and the Backwoods Bachelor
Panama Prudence and the Poison Pen
Hardcase Hannah and the Caverns of Midnight
Redheaded Rachel and the Underwater Wilderness
Calico Kate and the River of Gold
Chapter 23
The reception lasted well into the night. Everyone had such a good time. Even Fred and Herbert danced several waltzes.
I wanted to dance myself, but Alistair was still a bit under the weather, and I accepted that. Besides, my lower limbs were feeling a little the worse for wear from my journey on the flying machine. However, I didn’t turn William down when he asked me to take a turn.
“I want to thank you for what you did for us,” he said softly as we twirled about the floor. “It was a very brave thing to do.”
“I didn’t do anything special. Just helped one of my dearest friends.”
“You flew down from the city! On that.” He nodded at the wreckage of the flying machine, which had continued down without me to crash in an ignoble heap just beyond the grove of trees. “That was extremely special.”
I was glad for the darkness masking the blush I felt creeping up my cheeks.
“What about Ella?” I murmured.
“Ella will come and live with us. I plan to adopt her officially as soon as I can do so. My parents aren’t too pleased with the idea, but it really is none of their concern.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I replied. “She deserves to be happy. She’s a wonderful girl…if a little headstrong.”
“I wonder who that sounds like?” he teased.
The dance came to an end and I hugged him.
“I hope the three of you will be very, very happy.”
“If we are, we will have you to thank.”
I had a moment with Nettie as well, and a thank-you from Bridget. It felt good to have sorted out their problems. I do so enjoy setting things right.
The hardest moment was saying goodbye to Ella.
“You shouldn’t be up so late,” I scolded her playfully.
“Mama says it’s an especial occasion, so it doesn’t count.”
“I see.”
“Will you come and visit me when I live with my mama and William?”
“Of course I will.”
“Will you bring Sylvia’s clothes?”
I was lost.
“Who is Sylvia?”
“She’s my new doll. I know she isn’t Hortensia—Hortensia was in the crash. But Sylvia is to take her place. She has twice as many clothes now.”
“Yes, she does,” I laughed. “I’ll make sure you get the rest as soon as possible.”
She yawned. “That’s good. You can never have too many clothes.”
I certainly agreed with her there.
~*~
The sun was peeking up over the city by the time we got back to the brownstone the next morning. I had fallen asleep with my head on Alistair’s shoulder, but the halting of the carriage woke me.
William had sent us home with two conveyances again, with promises to deliver the remains of the flying machine to the warehouse at the earliest opportunity—which I hoped would be after their wedding trip.
The red-haired stranger who had been dogging my steps was standing in front of the boarding house again as I shepherded Alistair out of the carriage—he didn’t need my help, but I felt the better for it.
The mysterious stranger whooped like a savage Indian in one of the Wild West shows and ran over to swing me off the steps into a bone-crushing hug. Twirling me about like a rag doll, he continued making those obnoxious war-whoops.
“Put me down at once!” I ordered him, pounding him about the head and shoulders as Alistair watched in bemusement.
With a grin that stretched from one ear to the other, the stranger plopped me back onto the walk and stepped back, sweeping off the bowler that sat atop a mass of lank strawberry-red hair, somewhat similar to the color of mine, although lacking the curls.
“Fergive me if I was carried away by yer beauty, me darlin’. It’s jest so wonderful t’ see ya in the flesh at last! But, where are me manners? I should introduce meself proper.”
His speech was peppered with such mispronunciations and incorrect pronouns, but I will forbear to transcribe it further than absolutely necessary. Suffice to say, his country of origin was obvious.
“’Tis yer cousin, Seamus O’Leary come all tha way from the Auld Country jest to find ya. Yer a difficult woman t’ talk to, Josephine Mann!”
Despite a growing distaste for his mannerisms, I was curious.
“Whatever have you come to find me for?” I asked him.
“Why, t’ claim yer hand, o’course. Yer me betrothed.”
END
The Nearly Notorious Nun Page 18