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If You Were Mine

It was a simple game, but it was more than that. It was an opportunity to have innocent fun. Especially, for Miss Durham: Molly noted Elise’s feigned annoyance with the handsome Ashley. Oh, to be single again, but immediately Molly quashed that thought. If she had never married, she wouldn’t have had Anthony and her boy was her world. Reluctantly, Molly tolerated Harold Anvil because of her son. “Well? Any idea?”

“Barely, Mrs Anvil, we have had a minute to read it,” declared Elise who was as determined as Ashley to be the winner of the first round. “Rich? No. Yes. Yes, R,I,C,H.”

“Fleetditch,” interrupted Sir James. “I have it—When I am Rich, Ring ye Bells of Fleetditch!”

“Yes! Yes! Correct, Sir James, and what is the line from?”

“Ah, I know this. It is from the nursery rhyme, Oranges and Lemons.” Bowing, Sir James accepted the applause. “Is it my turn?”

“Yes,” replied Molly making a note of his score before pushing the ink and quill to him. “Will you give us a hint at what you will write?”

“No, Mrs Anvil. You are an intelligent young lady and it isn’t required that I give you a hint. Avert your eyes! No cheating. Specifically, Mrs Anvil, no cheating!”

18th century drawing room
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