Page 19 of A Sight to Behold
Pippa stood outside the carriage and felt for the card in her pocket. 87 Harley Street was just across the street. She could make out the house numbers; it was a neat, professional-looking building, with a gold sign. She could read Nick’s name there: Dr. Nicholas Folsham, D.O. Perhaps shewasfarsighted.
In the literal sense.
If she could muster the courage, she’d go in.
Then she heard a bark.
And a little dog—more like a fuzzy blur—came running across the street, his leather lead dragging along the ground behind him.
Chapter Ten
“Chromius! No!”
Nick quickly looked left and right before he sprinted across the street, trying to catch the lead of his runaway dog.
Nick’s heart pounded in his chest as Chromius, his normally well-behaved terrier mutt, bolted towards the hustle of the carriages and clip-clopping of horses along the street. The cobblestone streets of Marylebone, lit by the still-low-hanging sun diffused by the morning fog, pulsated with the energy of London waking up—a dangerous place for a little mutt.
The clattering of carriage wheels and the murmurs of conversation from passersby must have scared him—though it never had before. Perhaps he saw a cat or a squirrel; that would be more in character for the busy little hunter. And fast one, besides. Nick barely looked left and right before sprinting after his four-legged friend. Across the street, a young lady had just alighted from a glossy, deep blue landau, her crinoline skirt rustling like whispers in the gaslit glow. Chromius, evidently smitten for some unknown reason, made a beeline for her. Nick’s breath caught in his throat as he watched his wayward dog dart across the carriage-filled street, his usually glossy coat now mottled with flecks of London’s cobblestone grime.
Chromius’s tail, a little white banner, whipped back and forth in joyous abandon, as he approached the young lady across the street.
Nick stopped hard when a carriage nearly ran over his foot and the split second it took to wait for it pass him by, theyoung woman’s laughter rang out across the street, a melodic harmony that drifted towards Nick like a lilting tune. His heart lurched; he’d heard that laughter before, soft, lovely, imbued with warmth and amusement.
As Chromius jumped around her, her laughter only grew louder, the sound weaving an enchanting spell in the cool London morning.
Still a few feet away, Nick watched. “Chromius!”
But the dog ignored him, and his cries were lost among the bustle of Harley Street.
He watched Pippa as she delicately removed her glove, revealing her slender hand. She extended it towards Chromius. The dog sniffed at her fingers, his tail wagging in delight, and she lovingly patted his head with a touch that Nick knew was as light as a feather.
Even from his vantage point, Nick could see the elegant sophistication with which she carried herself, the refined grace that marked her as a lady. Yet, there was an unmistakable warmth in her gesture, a raw and genuine kindness that shone through as she lavished attention on what could possibly be a stray dog as far she was concerned. Yet, there was no reservation in her affectionate welcome of the creature.
By the time Nick reached the other side of the street, out of breath, the lady was squatting and had picked Chromius up. It was a sight that tugged at his heart, a poignant moment that faded in comparison to the jolt that ran through Nick’s veins as soon as he saw her face.
She was just as breathtaking as she was in his memories. And her kindness—he hadn’t imagined it. It shone through her, in the way she cuddled his dog, and in the smile on her face.
His heart pounded.
“Pippa!” Nick croaked, taking in the picture of the beauty who was jerking her face back and crinkling her nose adorably while Chromius licked her chin.
She giggled with the sound that Nick imagined his mother had meant when she told him how it sounded when an angel grew its wings in the old fairy tales.
Chromius wouldn’t stop trying to lick her face—the smart dog’s actions were completely understandable—and yet it was prudent to show a little more restraint, even though she was an exceptional vision of beauty. Nick reached for his dog and set him gently back down, holding tightly to his lead this time.
When Nick straightened his back and Chromius finally sat by his foot, she just stood there, beaming at him.
And the sun rose on the gloomy London fog. Pippa’s face was alight with the power of her pearly smile and her cheeks were slightly red. It was cold and her breath dissipated in an elegantly swirling mist that diffused the light. Her blond curls emerged from her large woolen hood like spirals of spun gold sparkling in the light. So beautiful.
Nick’s heart almost hurt when he looked at her, and he wanted to fall to his knees before the beautiful woman.
Suddenly, a shadow sucked the light out of the moment as if a giant were blocking the sun. And then it thundered. The heavens opened and without a moment’s warning, they stood in the rain.
Chromius yapped, and Pippa huddled into her hood.
“I just sent my driver away.” She peeked out from under the gray wool and batted her eyelashes. She was so sweet that Nick could feel the motion in his bones.
“Come with me.” He took her hand, prepared to hesitate, but she didn’t. She let him grab her hand firmly and she followed him across the street. Chromius’s walk had to wait—or it would have, if Chromius hadn’t stopped at the opposite curb to take care of his needs.
