Masked by Moonlight by Allie Pleiter

indeed.
    “Why yes, of course, that’s quite right,” she said, trying to hide her tangle of emotions. The few minutes she’d had were simply not enough to digest today’s wild turn of events. Georgia felt as if her head and heart were turning somersaults in twelve directions.
    “It’s a fine, fine day.” Reverend Bauers beamed. “Just last night I was beseeching our Lord to send help for the back staircase. I was hoping we’d get another year out of the floorboards, but…” He shook his head, the tops of his ears turning pink as he chuckled yet again. “Fifty dollars. Glory be to God! Fifty dollars.”
    “It is an amazing thing,” Georgia said, meaning every word.
    “And long overdue in coming, my child.” Reverend Bauers fiddled with the white ribbon someone had tucked into his coat pocket. He looked up, a thoughtful expression on his chubby features. “You must tell Mr. Covington at once. He will be delighted, I think, after having seen the worst of our little flock.”
    Georgia smiled, thinking how grand it would be to watch news of this fly through the city. “Stuart has invited him to dinner tomorrow, so I shall make sure he hears of our little wonder. It is a good day, Reverend,” she said. “Go and enjoy it.”

Chapter Fourteen
    G eorgia found Stuart standing over the printing presses. There on the stairway above the rows of black, greasy machines, he was king of all he surveyed. The day’s edition had been rerun with a detailed account of what Stuart called “The Generosity at Grace House.”
    “Look at them, Peach.” He spread his hands, gesturing to the roaring machines. “Whirring away. It’s just ink and paper, but it’s so much more than ink and paper.” He burst into a chorus from The Gondoliers. “Did I not say it would be spectacular? I’ve even ordered white ribbons for the floral arrangements at dinner tonight.” He stopped swaggering and crossed his arms in thought for a moment. “I may even have them string up the trees on the front walkway. Ribbons everywhere. What do you think of that?”
    That was Stuart—excessive in every detail. “I think it rather much,” she replied. Then again, “rather much” was what people expected of her brother. “There will be no white ribbons in my hair tonight, so don’t even think of asking.”
    The look on his face told her she’d accurately predicted the limits—or lack of limits—of his excess. He was, obviously, planning to ask her just that. She shook her head, but couldn’t help smiling at his rampant happiness. His pleasure meant something to her, because he was the only person who knew the Bandit’s true source. Even if he had twisted it beyond her liking, the partnership had been fruitful beyond her bravest dreams.
    At that moment, despite his faults—and the faults he seemed to drive her to—she loved her brother.
     
    Matthew made the coachman go around the block again when he pulled up to the Waterhouse mansion. The sight ruffled him so much he needed several minutes to summon his composure.
    Not that the Waterhouse mansion wasn’t an impressive sight on its own, having the unmistakable appearance of an owner who didn’t know when enough was enough. But tonight, it looked like a frosted cake. The ornate house and grounds were literally covered with white ribbons.
    I suppose I deserve this, Matthew chided himself as they rounded the corner to see the ribbon-bedecked house for the second time. His stomach seemed to sink to the soles of his boots as they started up the inclined drive. It always ends up in something like this, and you never learn. Never. Matthew slumped down in his seat, wishing he could somehow render himself invisible.
    But wait, you are. No one knows you were the one. Surely, if people knew, they’d have been on you like bees on honey by now. You’re safe. He pulled in a breath and straightened his collar.
    Just don’t ruin it.
    Had the invitation come from anyone but the Waterhouses, Matthew