American Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

what she considered to be a particularly inspired— although far from technically perfect—interpretation of a fugue by Bach, and held the last note, letting it fade on its own. In satisfaction, she drew her hands away from the keys and clasped them together in her lap, awash with the song's passion.
    "Please play another," a man's voice requested. "Your music is very enjoyable."
    Startled, Eliza looked up. A dark figure stood in the parlor doorway, one shoulder leaning against the walnut frame. The light from the two candles failed to reach that far, throwing him into silhouette. She could make out no detail about him, but the overall impression was one of height and power.
    When he straightened to stand erect, he seemed to loom closer. For an instant, Eliza mistook him for The Blade. When she realized it wasn't him, she stood and picked up the brass candle holder, lifting it high above her head.
    "Who are you? What are you doing here?" she demanded, sharp and wary.
    The man stepped into the room, and into the light. He was dressed in trousers and the black frock coat of a planter. The wavering light from the candle flame reflected over the angled hollows and planes of his face and picked up the cinnamon lights in his brown hair.
    "This is my house," he replied quite simply.
    "Your house?" The answer was not what Eliza had expected. It had never occurred to her he might be Will Gordon.
    "And you must be the new tutor, Miss Eliza Hall."
    "Yes." She lowered the candle, painfully conscious of her less-than-professional appearance and determined not to show it. "I was not told you had returned."
    "I arrived home only moments ago."
    As if to confirm this assertion, Temple rushed into the room, a cotton robe tied over her nightdress, her long hair unbound and tumbling in a thick black curtain about her shoulders and back. She stopped when she saw her father, her face alight with a child's pleasure.
    "Father. You are here." Her voice was rich with delight.
    "I am." The look he gave Temple was that of a doting father.
    She moved to his side and turned her gaze on Eliza, amused to see the dozens of curls springing free of the teacher's prim bun, making her appear a bit of a madcap. This was the real Eliza Hall, full of spirit and verve despite the stiff and colorless image she tried to project.
    "When you heard the piano music, did you think it was me?" Temple cast a teasing glance at her father.
    "I knew it could not be you. The tune was not one I had heard before," he said with an answering smile.
    Temple laughed. "Soon you will not be able to say that. Miss Hall is giving me lessons on the piano so that I may play it as grandly as she does."
    "Let us hope." He raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism.
    The tutor spoke up quickly. "Your daughter is an apt pupil."
    Will Gordon recognized the combative stance of this tall, plain woman and resisted the urge to smile. Instead, he responded with a formal nod. "I am pleased to hear that, Miss Hall. Tell me, how was Payton Fletcher when you saw him last?"
    "He seemed in good health," the tutor replied stiffly.
    "Are his eyes still sharp and is his smile still wide?"
    "Indeed." Eliza smiled at the accurate description of the Springfield lawyer. "He asked me to give you his warmest regards."
    "It has been years since I last saw him. I must write him on the morrow." He looked down at Temple and forced a smile. "Now that Payton Fletcher has become a gentleman of the green bag, I may have more need of his counsel than I once thought."
    There was a twinkle in his eyes when he used the backwoods term for a lawyer, but it couldn't cover the lines of strain and fatigue Temple saw in his face.
    "You are tired from your long ride." She touched his arm in quick concern. "Have you eaten?"
    "Your mother is preparing some food for me."
    "I will see if it is ready." Temple knew as well as her father that his meal would be completely forgotten if her mother heard one of the children call out. It was