Glittering Promises Read Online Free PDF Page A

owned every judge of consequence. He’d allowed me this respite, this audacious claim, as an indulgent papa would, eager to see how far a toddler would go when given free rein. And yet if I didn’t fight it, if I lost the Dunnigan inheritance, it wasn’t just me who would lose…my parents would lose too. After all they’d put into that land, the thought was impossible to swallow. They deserved that money. I had to find a way to be certain they got their stake in it, regardless of what happened to mine.
    How was I to make sense of it? Rise above the surface and see which direction I was to swim? I felt overwhelmingly weary. So weary from the constant travel and change.
    I drifted off to sleep, my dreams filled with visits with Papa, his eyes sad and heavy with worry. Each time I awoke, I could barely open my eyes, and dimly I recognized Anna slipping in and out of my room, the summer sun setting over the city. Eventually, the stillness and quiet of the Grand Canal at night fell across me. Wearily, I made myself sit up. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stared at the flickering light of an oil lamp outside until I was fully awake.
    Then I dropped to the floor and went to the French door that led to the small portico and exited outward. The humid air, heavy with the smells of salt and fish and smoke, entered my nostrils. But I breathed it in with a glad heart, happy to be free of my room and the thoughts that crowded my mind. I set my hands on the cold stone rail and bowed my head, listening to the faint sounds of laughter drifting out a window on the other side of the canal. Someone was having a party; figures in fine clothing slid past the windows, hands holding champagne glasses.
    A man cleared his throat. I looked up in alarm, then relaxed when I saw that it was Antonio sitting in a chair at the far end of the portico. I’d forgotten that the men had taken to positioning one guard here, along the exposed access to our rooms, be it day or night.
    I gave him a small smile and eased in his direction.
    “Feeling better, Miss?” he asked, rising and lifting a bushy black brow.
    “I suppose so,” I said, giving him a rueful smile. “My afternoon nap very nearly turned into an all-night sleep.”
    “You’ve endured a great deal of late. It’s bound to make a body weary.”
    I smiled and looked outward, watching as lamps reflected in waving ribbons across the water. Once, I would’ve considered the things I’d endured on this tour trifles compared to the day-to-day trials of the farm. And yet I was exhausted, emotionally spent from the unique challenges of this trip. Was it ever proper to dismiss one life’s difficulties as less of a hardship than another’s?
    I lifted a hand to my temple and massaged it. How was I ever to marry my old life to my new one? Who was I anymore? More Kensington than Diehl? Was it even possible for me to return to my old life, my old thoughts, given all that I’d experienced? This trip had molded me, changed me, strengthened me as well as weakened me…
    I didn’t want to return to my folks with anything but strength, gain. I wanted my mother to see that she’d been right to send me off with Wallace Kensington, that the struggle and pain had been worthwhile. But if I were to do that, I had to decide, once and for all, just where Wallace Kensington and I stood.
    The door slammed on the level below us, so hard I wondered if the glass in the panels had cracked. Antonio and I shared a look. I could hear a woman weeping, but then the door opened again, quietly, and we heard a man speak right below us.
    “Honestly, Vivian, have we not gone too far to turn back?”
    My eyes narrowed. It was Andrew Morgan, my sister’s intended. What was he doing in her quarters? I slipped my hands from the rail and stepped back, but I didn’t leave. I looked to Antonio, who gestured toward the door, reminding me of what was proper.
    “Is that what you call a proposal? What I’ve waited so long