Flowers from the Storm
Chapter One
"I've yet to fathom it. No doubt I never will. How canst thou expect any real consideration from a person of his -- " Archimedea Timms paused, searching for a suitable word. " -- his ilk, Papa?"
"Wilt thou pour me a cup of tea, Maddy?" her father asked, in just the sort of amiable voice that left one with no room to start an effective argument.
"He is a duke, for one thing," she said over her shoulder, a parting shot as she marched through the back dining room to locate Geraldine, since the parlor bell was in disorder. The time it took to find the maidservant, see water drawn and set to boil, and return to the parlor was not enough to make her forget the sequence of her thoughts. "A duke can scarcely be supposed to care seriously for such matters -- the square is above thy left hand -- as must be perfectly clear when his integration has not been prepared for the past week."
"Thou shouldst not be impatient, Maddy. This sort ofthing must be done with infinite care. He is taking his time. I admire him for it." Her father's searching fingers found the carved wooden numeral two and slid ... read full excerpt from: Flowers from the Storm ebook
