Desert Song (DeWinter's Song 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

paper.
    "May I see the letter?"
    Phoebe smoothed out the crumpled sheet, that merely contained instructions from Mallory's parents that their tenants were to grow oats instead of barley in the coming season. She quickly folded it and put it in the pocket of her dress. "You know it is impolite to read another's correspondence, Mallory."
    But Mallory wasn't fooled. She knew that whatever the letter contained, it wasn't love and best wishes for her. Phoebe was trying to protect her. She felt suddenly dejected and lonely.
    "Here, child," Phoebe prompted. "Open your gift. I know your birthday isn't until tomorrow, but go ahead."
    Without enthusiasm, Mallory complied. She carefully unwrapped the pink paper, taking care not to tear it. She stared at the white box, wondering what it contained. The label was from a shop in Paris. "They have sent me a gown or perhaps a bonnet," she said as enthusiasm crept into her voice.
    Eagerly, she lifted the lid, her eyes shining with anticipation. But when she saw what was inside, her lower lip trembled and she raised hurt eyes to Phoebe.
    "What is it, child? Show me what they sent you," Phoebe urged.
    Mallory lifted a stylishly dressed doll from the box and held it out for her cousin's inspection. "It's my eighteenth birthday, and my mother and father gave me a doll. Don't they know I'm a young lady now and I don't play with toys?"
    Phoebe tried to disguise her anger. It would have been better if they had not sent anything, she thought, as her heart broke for her charge. She took the doll from Mallory and straightened the stiff white gown. "It's beautiful," she said, trying to sound lighthearted.
    Mallory stood, her eyes blazing with anger. "Give it to one of the village children. I don't want it."
    "You'll change your mind."
    Mallory turned away from the doll as if the sight of it offended her. "No, I won't ever change my mind. I never want to see it again."
    Phoebe sighed as she replaced the doll in the box. "I know a little girl who would love to have this. I doubt she's ever had anything half so nice."
    "Then give it to her. I'm going to ride Tibor."
    Mallory raced her gelding across the meadow, her eyes on the fence just ahead. It was high, but she had been training Tibor for months, and she felt he was ready for the jump.
    "Come on, boy," she said close to his ear, "you can do it, I know you can."
    With little urging on her part, the horse lunged forward as if he had wings. The wind kissed her cheeks as horse and rider sailed over the fence, landing safely on the other side.
    Mallory patted the horse's sleek neck and spoke softly to him. "I knew you could do it. You were magnificent!"
    Her attention was drawn to the wooded area where she heard someone approaching. When she glanced up to see their neighbor, Sir Gerald Dunmore, emerging from the woods, she straightened her back in displeasure. Of late, he always seemed to know where to find her and when she was alone. Why was he pursuing her when he was a married man? she wondered. She detested him, but nothing she could say would convince him of that fact.
    "That was superb, Lady Mallory. There's no disputing that you're the best horsewoman in Sussex."
    "I wasn't aware that I had an audience, Sir Gerald," she said coldly. "I would prefer that you inform me ahead of time when you plan to come to Stoneridge."
    He merely grinned at her rebuff. "If I had informed you that I wanted to pay a call on you, you would have found a reason to be absent."
    He was tall, with sandy-colored hair and blue eyes. Mallory knew that many women found him attractive, but she did not. She loathed him for the shameful way he trifled with other women, giving little thought to his poor wife.
    "I do hope Lady Dunmore is enjoying good health," Mallory said pointedly. "She did not accompany you today?"
    Sir Gerald merely shrugged. "You know I'm alone. Little my wife cares where I take my pleasure as long as I don't bother her."
    "I would rather not hear you speak