Free Under An English Moon by Bess McBride Page A

Phoebe and a wary eye on the door as it shut behind them. He grabbed the rail as the elevator began to move, and Phoebe was grateful he couldn’t see the actual motion of the elevator.
    The realization of the complications inherent in taking care of this tall, handsome and very lost young man started to weigh on her. How could she possibly keep him safe, educate him in modern ways, even clothe and feed him? She had no experience with children, had never been called upon to babysit. Not that he was a child, of course, but she couldn’t help worrying about him as a mother might a child—as her mother did about her. The quintessential worrying mother of an only child, Minerva Warner never left her daughter any doubt that she loved her more than anyone else in the world, and Phoebe missed her terribly. The prospect of being a single mother of a one-year-old infant in those days must have been daunting, but her mother had risen to the challenge and been both father and mother to her, albeit with a more watchful eye than some of the other parents in their Midwestern neighborhood.
    Phoebe suspected she was channeling some of her mother’s anxieties at the moment, but knowing that didn’t help her wonder how she was going to take care of Reggie.
    The elevator arrived at the ground floor, and Phoebe took a deep breath as she waited for the slow doors to open. Past the doorman they would go, and out into the street. Her immediate plan was to take Reggie to a store right away and get him some clothes before they met Annie for breakfast...so they could go shopping again. She looked up at Reggie, hoping he was an easygoing man who wouldn’t fault her for coming up with such a harebrained scheme just to deceive Annie.
    Reggie caught her eye and gave her a smile as if somehow reading her anxiety.
    “Ready?” she asked as she took his hand again. She quite enjoyed this part of taking care of him—the touching.
    Reggie surprised her by tucking her hand between the crook of his elbow and his side.
    “It is only proper that I offer my arm to you, Miss Warner, and I am pleased to do so.”
    Phoebe blushed, feeling a bit like a gal in one of her romance novels, but she said nothing. The doors finally opened, and they entered the lobby. Tim was off as it was Saturday, but a middle-aged tall and thin man in a gray uniform greeted them.
    “Good morning, Miss Warner, how are you today?” He held open the door for them, but Phoebe paused for a moment. No time like the present to introduce Reggie to the doorman.
    “Hi George, good morning. Ummm... George, this is Reggie Hamilton. Reggie is going to be staying with me for a while...maybe a long while.” Phoebe avoided Reggie’s eyes. She didn’t think she could bear to see him protest “Oh, no, not a long while. No, no.”
    “Welcome, Mr. Hamilton.” George nodded and smiled.
    “Thank you, George,” Reggie said with a regal air as he inclined his head.
    If George had any thoughts about Reggie’s clothes, he never let on.
    “Thank you, George,” Phoebe said. She sashayed out the door on Reggie’s arm but was brought up short by Reggie, who stopped and stared.
    “Pon my word, Phoebe. Where on earth are we? Is that a horseless conveyance?”
    Phoebe surveyed the street in front of her apartment building, trying to see it through his eyes. It was relatively quiet for a Saturday morning, with cars parked along the curbs on both sides of the street. Small city-size trees dotted the otherwise neutral gray concrete landscape. A passenger car meandered down the street.
    “New York City, Reggie. And yes, that is most definitely horseless. We call it a car. You’ll probably get a chance to ride in one, a taxi...if you’re here long enough.” Phoebe heard her voice drop on the last words.
    She looked up at Reggie to see him busily scanning the street, probably trying to comprehend everything. She wasn’t sure what she would do or how she would feel had she been the one who traveled to