I peeked out from behind the curtain, expecting maybe an enraged Hugh or a prurient spy or two, but there was no one. The guests still danced and dined and drank to celebrate a wedding that wouldn’t happen. The wedding won’t happen! That was incredible and wonderful to think. I’d decided to throw it all away when I saw Silas tonight, tall and dashing, his blue eyes sparkling with love and mischief and intelligence. But then he’d told me about what he and Julian had done, and while part of me did truly resist the notion of being rescued, the practical Molly was already adding together stakes and shares and ships and warehouses, dividing and multiplying and cataloging the infinite number of contingencies that must be planned for. I was so incredibly grateful, and I turned to tell him that when I realized he wasn’t in the curtained alcove with me any more. Prodding at my hair with tentative fingertips to make sure it wasn’t too disheveled, I walked out of the alcove, searching for Silas.
What do You think about The Wedding Of Molly O'Flaherty?
