BooksBarbecue
Back The Shoe Queen
Chapters (67)
  1. Cover
  2. “And may I say, those shoes are adorable.”
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. ( I )
  7. ( one )
  8. ( two )
  9. ( three )
  10. ( four )
  11. ( five )
  12. ( six )
  13. ( seven )
  14. ( eight )
  15. ( nine )
  16. ( ten )
  17. ( II )
  18. ( eleven )
  19. ( twelve )
  20. ( thirteen )
  21. ( fourteen )
  22. ( fifteen )
  23. ( III )
  24. ( sixteen )
  25. ( seventeen )
  26. ( eighteen )
  27. ( nineteen )
  28. ( IV )
  29. ( twenty )
  30. ( twenty-one )
  31. ( twenty-two )
  32. ( twenty-three )
  33. ( twenty-four )
  34. ( V )
  35. ( twenty-five )
  36. ( twenty-six )
  37. ( twenty-seven )
  38. ( twenty-eight )
  39. ( twenty-nine )
  40. VI
  41. ( thirty )
  42. ( thirty-one )
  43. ( thirty-two )
  44. ( thirty-three )
  45. ( thirty-four )
  46. ( VII )
  47. ( thirty-five )
  48. ( thirty-six )
  49. ( thirty-seven )
  50. ( thirty-eight )
  51. ( thirty-nine )
  52. ( forty )
  53. ( forty-one )
  54. ( forty-two )
  55. ( VIII )
  56. ( forty-three )
  57. ( forty-four )
  58. ( forty-five )
  59. ( forty-six )
  60. ( forty-seven )
  61. ( forty-eight )
  62. ( forty-nine )
  63. ( fifty )
  64. ( fifty-one )
  65. Acknowledgments
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. Questions for Discussion

Genevieve groaned. “How could the man who made those delectable shoes have such appalling taste in women?”

“Jealous, chérie?”

“I must have a pair. I simply must.”

Lulu shrugged. “Well, go right over and tell him. Sometimes a girl has to swallow her pride and speak out. Tiresome though that may be.”

But Genevieve was shaking her head. “He hasn’t chosen me. And now he never will. On our way in here tonight I mistook him for the footman. I shoved my fur at him, Lulu, and asked Robert to give him a tip.”

( two )

YOU HAVE TO TAKE me away from here.” That was what Genevieve said when Robert got down on one knee in the drawing room of her family home in Suffolk. Her breath quickened, her chest began to heave and her eyes were a deep wild blue. “You have to take me away from here and never bring me back.”

He was gratified by her enthusiasm. Her passion, one might say. But the level of desperation was unsettling and inexplicable. What could be so awful about life in an English stately home? Sure, it was a little damp and drafty, but grand too. Her father, the Viscount Ticksted, was something of an old buffer, but amiable with it. He’d been tickled pink by the engagement, cracking open the single malt and slapping Robert on the back, calling him “my boy” and grinning so much that Robert could almost see the blood vessels popping under his skin, while Lady Ticksted wept in a sunshine-and-rain sort of way and kissed him on the cheek with thin, trembling lips. What could be so awful about these people? They were a positive boon, as far as he was concerned. If only Daddy could have lived long enough to see this Boston boy marrying English nobility.

But there was Genevieve, seizing his hands with a strength that was, frankly, astonishing. “I’ll die if I have to stay here one more month, Robert. I want to live in Paris and write poetry and be among writers and artists and designers. We can be Bohemians together.”