High Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page B

like Jennifer. Sock you without warning.
    “Thirty-eight.” Lutie coolly smiled.
    “Now isn’t that the oddest thing? I just spoke to Sumner not two minutes ago, and he told me he was twenty-seven.”
    “Well, he lives his life, and I live mine,” Lutie airily countered, then wheeled off to collar her son.
    “What’s the big idea of telling Jennifer Dogmeat Fitzgerald how old I am? I am shocked at your revelation of personal information.”
    “My age is not personal information.”
    “Mine is!”
    “Mother, who cares about the years? You’re the prettiest lady in this room, and Jennifer Fitzgerald, I mean Jennifer Dogmeat Fitzgerald, seethes with jealousy. Do you see anyone asking Jennifer to dance, except for her unfortunate husband, of course.” Sumner hummed maliciously.
    “Sumner, giving birth to you was one of the best things I ever did.” Lutie shed two decades as Sumner twirled her around the floor.
    The bride and groom slipped out the back door at the height of the festivities. They would spend the night alone at their new house with no servants inside until the morning. They were scheduled to catch the train to New York in the afternoon, and from New York they would sail to France.
    On into the night the party continued. Lutie generously distributed her personality. Sumner got drunker than a boiled owl. His friends carried him to the stable and left him in a stall covered with blankets. A bucket was by his side. No sense in having him ruin any of the rugs at the big house. Henley, Daniel, and T. Pritchard continued to see to the needs of their guests, which grew more eccentric as the night wore on. Reddy Neutral Taylor actually offered Henley one thousand dollars to sleep with Di-Peachy. Henley put him out of the house. Poofy crept up on the tail end of this.
    “How could he do such a thing?”
    “He doesn’t have the sense God gave a goose.” Henley closed the door.
    “That girl will never have a minute’s peace unless she becomes fat or disfigured.” Poofy shook her head.
    “Great beauty, like great wealth, is not always a blessing.” Henley put his arm around his sister-in-law’s shoulder. “Please don’t mention this episode to Lutie. You know how she is about the girl.”
    “Yes, I know.” Portia’s voice dropped.
    They rejoined the festivities arm in arm. Finally, guests dotted the rooms like fallen blossoms. Those that could stagger home did. Those that couldn’t, stayed put.
    Lutie climbed into bed, exhilarated and exhausted. She had kissed her husband good night at the door, hugged her sister and brother-in-law and was now blissfully alone. She wore her loveliest nightgown and blew the candle out next to the bed.
    “Emil, is that you?” Lutie whispered. “They’ve done everything to keep us apart. I’m dying to talk to you.”
    Rain poured outside. A fire cast golden light over the large bedroom. Geneva perched on the edge of the rice bed and listened to the downpour. She liked her new house. It wasn’t fancy but it exuded warmth, and Geneva was happy to have something that was hers alone. Nash came in after seeing that Bumba, his man, had taken the horses to the small stable. Water dripped onto the small Bukhara rug, which Poofy and Daniel Livingston had given them.
    “I think I’ll get out of these clothes.” Nash shook his arm, sending a light spray sizzling into the fire.
    Geneva rose from the bed to help him. He started to moveaway from her, but she held him. Silently she unbuttoned his beautiful waistcoat and threw it on the floor.
    “Geneva—”
    She moved around in front of him and kissed him on the lips before he could finish his sentence. She bit his neck. Nash shuddered and held her close. She felt an unfamiliar but welcome hardness bump into her groin. She peeled off his trousers like shucking corn. He wore beautiful silk underwear of bright white. She could see his penis outlined against it. He looked better than anything she’d seen in the stable. She