Lucy, he begged, just tell me. Let me help you.
He wondered what Fennsworth had said to get her off alone.He wondered what Hermione had meant when she’d said she fluttered.
He wondered if they would invite him to the wedding.Hmmm. Probably. Lucy would insist upon it, wouldn’t she? Stickler for propriety, that one. Good manners all around.So what now? After so many years of feeling slightly aimless, of waiting waiting waiting for the pieces of his life to fall into place, he’d thought he finally had it all figured out. He’d found Miss Watson and he was ready to move forward and conquer.
The world had been bright and good and shining with promise.Oh, very well, the world had been perfectly bright and good and shining with promise before. He hadn’t been unhappy in the least. In fact, he hadn’t really minded the waiting. He wasn’t even sure he’d wanted to find his bride so soon. Just because he knew his true love existed didn’t mean he wanted her right away.
He’d had a very pleasant existence before. Hell, most men would give their eyeteeth to trade places.
Not Fennsworth, of course."Really. I've always thought that violet ribbons look especially nice with brown hair."
Miranda fell in love on the spot. So intense was the feeling that she quite forgot to thank him for the compliment."Shall we be off?" he said.
She nodded, not trusting her voice.They made their way out of the house and to the stables. "I thought we might ride," Turner said. "It's far too nice a day for a carriage."