The Flower Seller. Linda Finlay

      ‘No, Izzie, you can’t,’ she shouted, shaking her head emphatically. ‘And you must promise not to ask Mother or Father either,’ she added, jumping to her feet.

      ‘But why?’ Isabella frowned. ‘I can help, carry extra flowers and . . . ’

      ‘No, I can’t risk it, you’re far too pretty,’ her cousin cried as she flounced up the stairs, leaving Isabella staring after her.

Chapter 9

      ‘Whatever do you mean?’ Isabella asked following after her. ‘What has my appearance to do with delivering flowers to the manor?’ Dotty turned away from the mirror where she’d been arranging her hair on top of her head.

      ‘Everything. And we call it the big house. Look, you must promise not to tell a soul but I’ve got an admirer,’ she burst out, a smile hovering on her lips.

      ‘Goodness, how exciting,’ Isabella cried, clapping her hands enthusiastically. ‘However, I still don’t see why that should stop me coming with you.’

      ‘But Izzie, look at me!’ she wailed. ‘My hair hangs all straight and I’m dumpy with freckles to boot. You’re lean as a racehorse while I look like old Silver.’

      ‘What utter rubbish, Dotty. You’re naturally pretty with your dark colouring and you have womanly curves. Obviously this admirer recognizes that fact.’

      ‘But if he sees you, with your golden hair and big blue eyes, he’ll have second thoughts about accompanying me to the harvest hop.’

      ‘I still think that’s nonsense, but if he did then he wouldn’t be worth worrying about, would he?’