The Last Night in London by Karen White (reading list .TXT) 📕

examine it more closely, studying the almost transparent wings and striped body, the furred sections of the legs, the two stubby antennae.

Frowning as she struggled to determine the bee’s meaning, she flipped the case over. A sterling hallmark had been etched into one corner, and tiny words sat on the bottom edge like a line of ants: nil credam et omnia cavebo.

The meaning was foreign to her, the words something other than English. Eva had a panicked moment, wondering if this might be a test from Graham of her education. She quickly dismissed the thought. It just wasn’t something he would do. She was convinced of that.

She turned the case over to look at the bee again, at how real it appeared, and a shudder flowed through her like a wave. What could it possibly mean? Why would Graham have given her such a thing? With her painted thumbnail, she carefully pried open the top. A cream-colored note sat inside, folded crisply in half. Eva opened it, her eyes scanning the words first without reading, and she realized with a start that she’d never seen Graham’s handwriting before. The letters were thick and bold, all sharp angles and lines. Not at all what she imagined his handwriting would look like. Her gaze drifted to the signature, and her mouth went dry. Alex. Not Alexander, or Alexander Grof, but Alex. As if he were assuming a familiarity with her that didn’t exist.

Her eyes drifted back to the top of the note, and she began to read.

Dearest Eva,

I can’t tell you what a pleasure it was to meet you earlier this week. I must admit that I’m quite besotted—embarrassingly so. We’d barely finished the soup course before I was plotting to see you again. Imagine my delight when you left your purse behind and afforded me the perfect opportunity. I thought my plans thwarted when St. John insisted on returning the purse personally, but then I realized it was an excellent chance to send you a note since I do not have your address.

Please accept this gift as a token of my esteem. I couldn’t help but notice that you were in need of a cigarette case. I saw this in a shop and found it exquisite and unique. So of course I immediately thought of you.

Until we meet again,

Alex

Eva crumpled the note in her fist, interest and offense warring in her head. She examined the beautiful cigarette case again, felt the heft of the silver, calculated its value. Mr. Grof—Alex—had bought it for her because he found her exquisite and unique.

She flipped the case over again and studied the words on the back, wondering how she could find out what they meant. The only thing of which she was certain was that she could ask neither Graham nor Alex. She’d rather remain ignorant.

She immediately thought of Mr. Danek, who’d been educated at Charles University in Prague. Surely that meant he was worldlier than she, and he might at least tell her what language the writing was in. The one thing she knew for sure was that she wasn’t going to return the cigarette case. It was much too beautiful to give back.

When Eva reentered the flat, Precious stood by the front window, looking down on the street. “Your beau is like a tall glass of sweet tea.”

At Eva’s look of admonishment, Precious said, “I know, I know. I couldn’t help myself. There is no better way to express my opinion of your Graham. Not that my opinion counts, of course.”

“It does,” Eva said. She smiled. “It does a lot. I’m very happy you approve, because I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot of Graham in future. And I’m glad you finally met although I wish it hadn’t been here. I didn’t want him to see where I live until we move into our new flat. These halls smell like a workhouse.”

She felt Precious’s gaze but turned away. She wished she hadn’t spoken, hadn’t reminded herself of the six months she had lived in a workhouse, a time when her mother was ill and unable to take care of her. Eva had wanted to die. Even their tiny cottage had been preferable to that.

She felt the weight of the silver cigarette case in her pocket. Her mother would have told her to give it back, that a gentleman didn’t give expensive gifts to a woman unless he wanted something in return. But wouldn’t that mean she’d have to be willing? And Eva wasn’t.

“Do you think we should go see the new flat before we agree?” Precious asked, her expression showing that she already knew the answer.

“No. If it’s good enough for Graham’s future brother-in-law, I’m going to believe it’s good enough for us.” Eva allowed herself a small smile. Maybe she was due a windfall. Windfalls never happened to her—she had to make them all by herself. But maybe, finally, her luck had changed.

“Graham’s sure sweet on you, Eva. I hope his intentions are pure.”

“What do you mean?”

Precious arched an eyebrow. “He’s not from our world, is he?” Her smile took the sting from her words. “Men like him rarely marry girls like us.”

Eva managed to hide the sharp blade of anger that sliced through her, because she couldn’t be angry at Precious. Not when her friend had voiced the same thoughts that had been circling her head ever since she’d met Graham St. John and seen his smile. She felt the hard ball of the crumpled note in her fist. “I suppose I’ll think about that when I have to.”

Precious laughed. “You sound like Scarlett O’Hara.”

“From Gone With the Wind? I haven’t read it, but I know there’s a film coming.”

“Well, you should read it. Scarlett always waits until tomorrow to figure out her problems.”

“And does that work?”

“Not really.” Precious smiled. “But I suppose it’s always worth a try.”

Eva turned away to tidy the cushion on the sofa. She sat down to remove the pins from her hair as a stray