Free Somebody Wonderful by Kate Rothwell Page A

should see other gentlemen. Just so you know. Didn’t he say so, Lizbet?”
    “Oh yes,” said Lizbet, too enthusiastically.
    That cut through his distraction. “Daisy.” He stopped and turned to her. “Daisy, do you want to?”
    She looked at him from under her lashes. “I am very fond of you, Michael. Very.” Her darling little dimple appeared in her right cheek. “You are so sweet.” She darted a glance over at Lizbet who had walked a few steps ahead. Daisy’s small gloved hand briefly caressed his arm.
    Cool and dainty Daisy in her white dress, her curls neatly pinned up, was a sight for his rather sore eyes. She always looked so clean and bright, even on the darkest days. Nothing mysterious or peculiar about Daisy, not like the Calverson woman.
    He grasped her hand. She giggled and so did Lizbet, of course. “Michael! On the street? Let us walk on to the park.”
    As they strolled under the trees in the park she protested when he again attempted to take her arm.
    She giggled again, but her voice was irritated when she reprimanded him. “Michael, you do seem friskier than usual.”
    That was damn certain, he thought, again remembering how he’d awakened that morning. It was very wrong of him to take out his thwarted desire on an innocent like Daisy.
    He apologized to Daisy. She allowed him to buy her and Lizbet ices.
    They spoke of their favorite ways to spend a lazy day. Daisy liked to shop and read. Lizbet loved to visit the roller rink. Mick mentioned listening to music and going for walks.
    Daisy smiled and briefly took his arm, pretending she needed help over a rocky part of the path. “Like this?”
    “Just like this.”
    It turned into a fairly agreeable afternoon. Lizbet, giggling and blushing, mentioned that her mama would be worried so she’d have to leave them early. Mick gallantly escorted her up the stairs and they left Lizbet at her house. Mick looked forward to five whole minutes walking alone with Daisy.
    And then Henry Tucker’s yelps shattered his peace.
    “Mr. Mick!”
    “Goodness, Michael,” Daisy said. One of her lilac-gloved hands shaded her eyes as her other clutched his arm. “Do you know those people?”
    Henry’s yells were so loud even a few passersby stopped to see the cause of the hullabaloo.
    The sleek black cab drew to a halt, and Henry bounded to the curb, followed by a stylish young woman who stepped out of the cab. “Hey Mr. Mick! Look at us,” Henry said, for the thousandth time. “Miss Timona and I are going home in style.”
    Timona? Timmy?
    Even Mick, no expert at women’s clothing, could see that the smart gray velvet dress was elegant. It was fairly plain and tight in the front—though plain was not the right word for her front—and rucked up in all the correct places with a train at the back. A dashing hat with a feather perched on the side of her head, atop an arrangement of braids and curls at the e of her neck that cunningly hid the cut he had stitched. The gray showed off her light eyes and dark hair. Mick couldn’t help gawking at her until an elbow dug into his side.
    “Who is this person?” Daisy hissed. Mick’s mouth shut, but before he could speak, the very grand young lady stepped forward, and held out her hand encased in a dove-gray glove.
    “How do you do? You must be Mick, ah, Mr. McCann’s charming Miss Graves. I am delighted to meet you. I am Timona Calverson.”
    Daisy shook the hand enthusiastically, and squeaked, “ The Timona Calverson?”
    They stood in a small circle on the sidewalk. Mick looked sharply from one woman to the other. Daisy was now beaming, her eyes and mouth open wide.
    “Yes,” Timmy said, and hurriedly added, “I haven’t had a chance to explain a few things to Mr. McCann.”
    She twiddled with the button at the wrist of one of the gray gloves and seemed to be trying to catch his eye.
    This Timmy looked thoroughly at home in the stylish gray dress. His theory of the morning, that she might be upper class,