A Romantic Moment in front of the British Museum

Stapleton was the last to alight from the carriage. The sunlight made his hair glint like molten copper — a sight which distracted Amy from admiring the stately building. She just couldn’t help smiling at him. Oh, he was do dear to her!

His lips curving, he went to her and offered her his arm. Amy slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and shivered a little when her arm brushed his side. “What a beautiful house,” she said quickly.

“Oh yes, enormous, isn’t it?” He cast a look around the forecourt before he looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. “Just as enormous as the debts Montagu incurred because of it. For how desperate must a man be to marry a madwoman?”

“A madwoman?” She held her breath, as always enchanted with his stories. His cheek dimpled, and she wished she could reach up and put her finger there. Or even her lips … A blush warmed her face.

(Excerpt from BEWITCHED by Sandra Schwab. Copyright 2005/2006. All Rights Reserved.)

4 thoughts on “A Romantic Moment in front of the British Museum

  1. Kate

    Ok, I figured out the ever-so-tiny thing that was bugging me about this passage.

    Would he not get out of the carriage first and then offer his hand to help _her_ alight?

    Oh, and your Betelgeusian is showing – “he was do dear to her!”… :-p

    I already like this Stapleton guy, though…

  2. Sandy

    Kate, Lord Munthorpe (Munty, who knows all about sheep) gets out of the carriage first (because it’s his, I suppose) and he’s the one who helps the ladies down.

    Argh and waily about the Betelgeusian slip. *g*

    Hey, I’m glad you like my Mr. Stapleton! :O)

  3. Kate

    See, this is why you shouldn’t let me read just excerpts. I miss little things… like a character called Lord Munthorpe.

  4. Sandy

    And a Scot at that — as we learn when he’s mentioned for the first time:

    Amy took a sip of her lemonade and warily eyed the crowd. Egad! She gulped. There he was again! That horrid Lord Munthorpe. Who had talked about nothing but his family’s sheep breeding in Scotland. Wooly baa-shee. Ack!


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