Catch Me If You Can Read Online Free PDF Page B

departure, and watched him walk into the darkness at the other end of the hallway before returning to her room.
    She leaned against the inside of the door for several moments. Her body had quickly grown warm again and she walked around the room to cool herself. It was stupid of her not to have realized her father and Frieda were quite so close, the clues had all been there. Perhaps she’d been too involved in her own attraction to Rivers to notice their relationship. After a while, the surprise faded and she realized she was pleased.
    She approached the bed and pulled the nightdress over her head, throwing the streak of white lawn down on the pillows. She lay across the abandoned linen sheets and tried to clear her mind. However, the smell of tobacco caught her attention again and she picked up the nightdress. Drawing it to her face, she inhaled the smell. Burying her face deeper in it, she thought she could smell him, the delicious male scent of Mr. Peter Rivers.
    She wondered if he’d guessed she wanted him to kiss her, to feel his mouth on hers, his body pressing against hers. She turned her face onto her pillow.
    Thunder roared up in the distance, the storm was getting close.
    The sound of it couldn’t mute her thoughts. She twisted in her bed, a low moan in her throat. As the skies flashed with lightening and opened, the scene she desired filled her mind and flooded through her body.
     
     
     

 
    Chapter Three
     
    The Lady Falls
     
     
    The following morning was crisp and clear. The midnight storm had cleared the air. Eleanor decided her fevered cravings of the night before must have been the fault of the torrid atmosphere. She tried not to let the image of Rivers interfere with that opinion. He was gone for the morning, which was probably for the best.
    Perhaps she’d gone about indicating she was an independent woman in the wrong manner, she reflected, as she took her breakfast in bed. Her hints at liberation didn’t seem to impress him at all. She would have to find another way to demonstrate to him she was a sophisticated sort, a woman of the world who was able to handle herself whatever the circumstances.
    After she dressed, she met with Mrs. Bramley and planned the menus for the week, which they always did the day before market day. By mid-morning she had dealt with the post and joined Frieda for a ride.
    It wasn’t long before Eleanor had her aunt recounting the adventures of her youth. Eleanor listened with her eyes on the horizon, seeing not the land before her, but beyond, in her imagination. Frieda’s accent enlivened each image, the undertones of her German heritage showing through. She often paused, as if to find the right words, as if English was still new to her. Eleanor listened but sometimes her thoughts went to the discovery of the night before, to what she’d learnt of Frieda’s relationship with her father. How long had Father had feelings for Frieda , she wondered? Had he made a sacrifice for the sake of his brother when he’d left the two of them in California, all those years before?
    “Was David similar to my father?” she asked, tentatively.
    Frieda smiled, as if unsurprised by Eleanor’s curiosity. “They were similar. In looks, they differed only in coloring and the set of their eyes. In personality they matched each other well as companions.”
    Frieda rode sidesaddle, unlike her niece, her grey wool outfit smartened by a crisp white cravat shirt beneath. As they covered the length of the estate, Frieda shared her anecdotes, describing the elaborate escape that had to be organized when she ran away from her strict family to join David and James Craven in their adventures. Eleanor was delighted.
    On their return journey, Frieda encouraged her mount closer to Eleanor’s and spoke quietly. “Eleanor, you witness my affection for your father and you wonder, so I will be candid with you.”
    There was a heavy, deliberate implication in her words and it wasn’t lost on Eleanor.