What Price Love?

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I’m looking for Paddy O’Loughlin.”

Fronting the bar counter in the Pipe & Drum, Lady Priscilla Dalloway met the tavern keeper’s arrested gaze and wished she’d thought to disguise her diction. But then she watched recognition flare in Miller’s eyes and realized there would have been no point. She’d worn an old riding habit and a wide-brimmed hat, but there was nothing she could do to disguise her face; a veil wouldn’t help gain Paddy O’Loughlin’s confidence.

Miller, a beefy man with a round, bald head, continued to study her as if she might pose some exotic threat. Inwardly sighing, she leaned confidingly on the counter. “He’s not in any trouble-I just want to talk to him.” She’d softened her already soft brogue, but Miller didn’t budge or blink; she infused a touch more persuasiveness into her tone. “It’s just that my brother’s now filling the position from which Paddy recently retired, and I wanted to know what Paddy could tell me about the work and the place.”

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