{"id":265887,"date":"2026-07-16T14:29:25","date_gmt":"2026-07-16T11:29:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/love-and-folly-sheila-simonson\/"},"modified":"2026-07-16T14:29:25","modified_gmt":"2026-07-16T11:29:25","slug":"love-and-folly-sheila-simonson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/love-and-folly-sheila-simonson\/","title":{"rendered":"Love And Folly – Sheila Simonson"},"content":{"rendered":"
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“So we decided to dress in disguise and explore London.” “But why Greek Street in particular?” “We’d never seen it.” “You’ve never seen Billingsgate, either. I repeat, why Greek Street?” “Why not Greek Street? Mr. Lawrence lived there. It was very interesting.” Jean burst into tears. “Let be, Dyott,” Colonel Falk interposed. “This is not the place to be cross- examining witnesses.” He handed Jean a clean handkerchief. The hackney swung onto Grosvenor Street. Jean sniffled. Johnny fumed in silence. At last they entered the Square and the jarvey drew up before the Conway town house.<\/p>\n

The butler and two footmen were at the carriage door instantly and Johnny could see Lady Clanross, her hands clasped, watching from the foyer. Colonel Falk got out first. “Quietly, gentlemen, if you please. Lady Margaret is unwell.” The butler helped the bedraggled Jean down, then took Maggie in his arms without betraying curiosity or in any way impairing his dignity.<\/p>\n

Flanked by the two impassive footmen, he bore Maggie up the stairs and into the house in stately parade. Johnny slunk after like a dog following a regimental band. * * * * Elizabeth sent for Anne’s discreet practitioner at once and bundled Maggie into bed. Jean hovered. Maggie moaned and muttered and complained of the headache–and no wonder. The knot on her skull was large as a hen’s egg.<\/p>\n

Mercifully, Dr. Stroud responded within the half hour. He accepted Elizabeth’s explanation–Jean and Maggie, escorted by Johnny and Colonel Falk on an expedition to the Tower, had been set on by the Mob. It was a thin story and Elizabeth hoped it might not embarrass the two men excessively. The physician tut-tutted, and gave Maggie a paregoric draught when he had assured himself that she was not seriously concussed.<\/p>\n

Finally, sponged clean and tucked into a fresh night rail, Maggie fell asleep. Dr. Stroud examined the bruise on Jean’s arm, and the bruises and blisters on her feet, and prescribed bed rest. Jean was inclined to resist, but she finally lay down on the daybed in the girls’ dressing room. When Elizabeth returned from showing the physician out, she found Jean sound asleep.<\/p>\n

Balked for the moment of an explanation, Elizabeth sought Johnny Dyott. She had not far to seek, for he was hovering in the first-floor hallway, looking miserable. She led him into her small withdrawing room. He was inclined to be remorseful. Elizabeth said kindly, “My dear Johnny, it’s not your fault.<\/p>\n

Indeed, I’m grateful to you for following after them so promptly. What a miracle you found them at all.” He explained about the spurned jarvey and Greek Street. “I see.” “I cannot understand their presence in Soho. Unless Davies put them up to it.” “Up to what?” Johnny buried his head in his hands.<\/p>\n

“I’ve no idea.<\/p>\n

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-066-3 ISBN 10: 1-60174-066-2 Copyright \u00a9 2008 by Sheila Simonson Cover design Copyright \u00a9 2008 by Judith B.<\/p>\n

Glad Previously published by The Walker Publishing Co., Inc., 1988 Zebra Books, 1989 All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or publisher. Published by Uncial Press, an imprint of GCT, Inc.<\/p>\n

Visit us at http:\/\/www.uncialpress.com OceanofPDF.com 1820 “… if there is a more foolish year in English history, I do not know of it.”–J. B. Priestley OceanofPDF.com Prologue: New Year’s Morning, 1820. Their sister, Lady Clanross, sent Jean and Maggie to bed after supper. At least it felt that way, though the supper had been an elegant midnight dissipation of salmon and lobster patties and champagne, with the orchestra playing Ancient Musick and county guests telling the girls how handsome they looked.<\/p>\n

Maggie and Jean had stretched their permission to attend Elizabeth’s New Year’s gala until the clock struck one Then Elizabeth sent them upstairs, rather an anticlimax. It was their ball. They were seventeen years old and would turn eighteen midway through the Season, their long-anticipated come-out. Elizabeth had sent for Mme Dulac from Lincoln to rig them out especially for this night, and Clanross himself had led Jean onto the floor–after the ceremonial first dance in which he had been obliged to squire the Duchess of Cope, who was fat and fifty.<\/p>\n

Jean had danced the first dance, very properly, with their cousin Willoughby Conway-Gore, and Maggie had danced with Johnny Dyott, but Jean hadn’t felt properly launched until she romped through the boulanger with her tall brother-in-law, Clanross. In that second dance Maggie had been stuck with red-faced Charles Wharton of neighbouring Hazeldell, but she didn’t object.<\/p>\n

Johnny had given her confidence. He always did. Now, drooping over the balcony as the guests drifted back into the brilliantly lit ballroom, Jean fetched a huge sigh. “I could have danced forever. Until dawn, anyway.” Maggie yawned. “I felt light as air, Mag. I floated from one partner to another like…like thistledown.” Having called up the simile–it came from one of Mme. D’Arblay’s novels–she gave a small bounce.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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