Anne Barbour (31 page)

“And what about Lawrence?”

“You know,” replied David meditatively. “I begin to think that, despite his general lack of anything approaching common sense, there may be some hope for him. I believe I shall install Lawrence at the River Farm, with Pettigrew’s son as his bailiff. I am quite impressed with that young man. Any profits the farm produces will go to augment Lawrence’s allowance, and if, in the fullness of time it looks as though he has taken hold of the place, I’ll deed it to him.”

“Oh, very well,” sighed Kate. Then, she smiled roguishly. “I was rather hoping you’d send
him
to the West Indies. It made a man out of Uncle Thomas, after all.”

David, his eyes alight, replied, “But who knows what—or who, he might bring back with him?”

“Very true,” she agreed solemnly. “What would the neighbors think of another black-mopped infant roaming the stately halls of Westerly?”

At this appalling piece of irreverence, David had no choice but to stop the curricle and silence his betrothed, very slowly and thoroughly, and most pleasurably.

To Carol Smith, critiquer
extraordinaire

I wish to express my thanks to Mr. Peter Davenport of the Bath Archaeological Trust for his inestimable and very kind assistance. Any mistakes I have made regarding the period of the Roman occupation in Britain are mine and not his.

I would also like to thank Marion Dodd, the present owner of Mrs. Vivier’s at 32 Brock Street. Her charming John Wood town house, and her gracious hospitality greatly enhanced my visit in Bath.

My thanks go also to Dr. Don Wright of St. Paul, Minnesota, for his advice on matters medical.