As You Are Read Online Free PDF

such a vivid color.”
    As Mr. Finley’s eyes were decidedly brown, he seemed to bristle at this remark. Clara kept her expression as innocent as possible until the frustrating man took himself off. She felt a moment of triumph at that.
    She turned to offer her apologies to Mr. Jonquil for Alice’s unfortunate fit of hilarity, but when she glanced back in his direction, she saw him in the lane just beyond the churchyard, mounting his horse.
    He had offered not so much as a “by your leave” or a “farewell.” Certainly an unsociable gentleman. Perhaps he simply disdained to socialize with his neighbors. The son of an earl was, no doubt, accustomed to much higher company than that found in Grompton. He might not have appreciated her defense of him, but Clara fully meant to be proud of herself. There was once a time she would have cowered in silence.
    “Come along, children,” she said. “I believe Suzie will be making sweet biscuits this afternoon. We don’t want to arrive too late to help her clean the spoon.”
    That set the children to nearly running. Clara’s longer legs made keeping up with them a simple task. She found she had a great deal of time to think over the morning as they wound their way down the lanes leading west from Grompton.
    She no longer wondered at the whispers that had echoed off the chapel walls and around the churchyard. Mr. Jonquil generally blended into his surroundings. She herself probably would not have noticed him if he didn’t sit behind them week after week. If she was being completely honest, his golden halo of hair drew her attention more often than it ought. That morning, however, his attire had drawn the attention of all the town.
    What had brought about so odd a choice of clothing? It didn’t suit him, despite what she’d told Mr. Finley. Clara felt a hot flush spread quickly across her face. That wasn’t entirely true. The color perfectly suited him. His eyes were certainly blue—another thing about him she couldn’t help noticing—but the blue of his coat had rendered them breathtaking.
    “Can we stop, please?” Edmund asked, pulling on her hand.
    Clara jumped from her thoughts and looked around, momentarily disoriented. They were not far from the turnoff to Ivy Cottage and were standing at the edge of Havenworth property. Clara followed Edmund’s eager eyes toward the enclosed field. Several gorgeous horses capered about, manes furrowing as they bounded and jumped. Clara appreciated the pleasant picture they made. Edmund, however, stood positively mesmerized.
    “I wish I had a horse,” Edmund whispered, leaning against the fence. “I would be a good rider, I know it.”
    Her heart squeezed at the longing in his voice. When did Edmund ever ask for anything? He willingly went about his studies. He watched out for Alice. The poor boy had endured Mr. Bentford.
    All he ever wished for was a horse.
    Clara could not begin to afford one. She forced down the lump that formed in her throat. “Someday, Edmund,” she promised him, squeezing his overly slender shoulders. “Someday you will have your horse.”
    They watched the graceful animals for Clara knew not how long. By the time she pulled Edmund away from the sight, Alice had fallen asleep in her arms. Edmund continued their journey but reluctantly so, despite the promise of biscuits.
    There had to be a way, Clara told herself. There had to be a way to give Edmund the only thing he’d ever wanted.
    * * *
    If they only ate three times a week, it might be possible. Clara laid her quill on the writing desk beside the sheet of parchment that contained her calculations. Two days had passed since Edmund had stood wistfully at the Havenworth fence.
    She’d gone into Grompton that afternoon after the children had finished their lessons and had inquired after the price of various aspects of keeping a horse: shoeing, a saddle, bridle, feed. Without even taking into account the purchase price of such an animal, nor the cost