Chapter 45

The candles, moonlight, and the scents of the nearby honeysuckle produced a wonderful romantic ambiance, beyond anything Liberty could have imagined.Keats continued to surprise her, his esoteric overtures proved refreshing and thrilling. Now they were intimate friends, not legal adversaries.

Relaxed, happy, Liberty talked about her family, and Keats reciprocated.Both his parents were educators, his father a high school chemistry teacher, and his mother an English Lit professor at University."During her college days in the late seventies," he revealed, "she got into poetry and literature, the high end stuff.For as long as I can remember dad always bowed to mom and her tastes. Of course, she always had good taste, still doesup to a point."

He chuckled."I guess in a weak moment, dad allowed mom to name the children, so I became Byron and my younger brother got Emerson.He doesn't mind the name so much, says it's better than Ralph Waldo."