Scones and Sensibility (27 page)

I had also aided Clint, who was now happily in the arms of a girl named Sophia. And Edward was with Tracy—the girl who had stolen his heart from the
first. But my greatest wish by far was for my dearest friend. Yet there were not many suitors who were worthy of her.

But this young man, he was surely a vision who would bring my bosom friend the same joy that I felt with my dearest Bradley.

“You know,” I said to Fran, gesturing to the suitor, “that young man has been unable to take his eyes off your delicate beauty. I fear that he is much in love with you. Leave it to me, my dearest. I will have the two of you conversing and bonding within moments.” I had gotten up and started toward the gentleman when I was suddenly grasped from behind.

“Oh, no you don’t. You promised me. That”—she pointed to Jack the Nipper, tied to a chair leg by a short red leash—“is the only kind of romance you are allowed to arrange, got it?”

I laughed and studied the little dog. “Yes, you are right, my dearest friend. And I noticed a beautiful dachshund just this morning trotting by the bakery. Still, he is a very handsome boy indeed.”

“No, Polly. If I want to talk to him, I will.”

I nodded. “Very well, I wash my hands of the subject.”

“Good,” Fran said. “Now try to think of a doggie
friend for Jack. That should keep you busy for the rest of the year.”

“Yes, about that dachshund, do you think she would like a scone or a croissant? Really, I want to give the dachshund a good impression of Jack, since he does have abundant faults.”

Fran laughed, her face bursting with red, and I couldn’t help but join in her laughter, though really, the thought plagued me throughout the rest of the evening. When I got home I wrote up, in my best calligraphy, a plan to unite the canines.

And settled on a scone.

Just as a fine, deliciously baked pastry has many ingredients, so did this story have many ingredients as it was measured, mixed, rolled, and baked into the book you hold in your hands.

To my wonderful, amazing agent, Rebecca Sherman, who took a chance on me and made my writing—and therefore, this book—ten times better than I thought it could be.

To my editor, Elizabeth Law, who understood Polly so perfectly and who asked all the right questions, and laughed at all the right parts.

To the entire Egmont USA family: Doug Pocock and
Regina Griffin, for a wonderful steak dinner and welcoming me with so much kindness. To Mary Albi, Alison Weiss, Nico Medina, Greg Ferguson, Rob Guzman, and Jeanine Henderson. I am one girl who knows how very lucky she is.

To my online critique mates who first read Polly’s elaborate story and who thought she was funny and endearing enough to reread over and over again. The Cudas: Lisa Amowitz, Cyndy Henzel, Cathy Giordiano, Kate Chell Milford, Dhonielle Clayton, and Linda Acorn. And Elitecritiquers: Jean Reidy, Shannon Caster, Julie M. Prince, Lauren Whitney, and David Macinnis Gill. You all are more amazing than I can ever say. Thank you for your praise, your honesty, and your friendship.

To my fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Jan Baughman, who believed in my first story about a lion named Walop. Wherever you are in the world, thank you!

To my close friends here in Colorado who make me laugh, cry, and who have allowed me to become a part of their lives, their families, and their stories. Phil and Anne Gallagher, Kent and Melissa Gledhill, Kirk and
Sarah Livesay, Chris Gygi, Jen Morgan, and Bruce and Katie Buller. And to Audrey Buller, who first gave Polly her voice. I love you all!

To my parents, Chris and Wendy Devlin. Words cannot ever tell the world enough of what you gave me and continue to give me each day. I hardly consider you as my parents now. You are so much more than that. Thank you for always believing I could do it, even in fifth grade. I love you both so very much.

To my older sister Alisa, who is the real writer and artist. Thanks for letting me tag along with you when we were little and look up to you now that we’re real, live grown-ups. You are a barrel of fun.

Those who know me best know that, above all else, I love to laugh. And therefore one of the people I love above all else is my younger sister Suzanne. You are my kindred spirit, my bosom friend!

To Gracie, Isaac, Ella Jane, and Noah. Thank you for every single moment with you. I love you with a ferocious and undying love!

And to John, always to John. You make my heart beat faster.