Lady in Red Read Online Free PDF Page B

a profit, this was the slow time of the year, and often she’d not been able to recoup her original investment for months.
    She sighed and glanced down at the ring that rested on her finger. At least that had not cost anything. Small and silver, decorated with a dance of silver-etched runes, it had appealed to her from the first second she’d beheld it, resting on an iced cake at a ball, a party favor that had nonetheless appealed to her sense of beauty. She traced the ring with the tips of her fingers, wondering what it was worth.
    When she first won the ring, she’d had the full intention of selling it, only… She closed her fingers over it, letting the warmed metal melt the icy uncertainty that encased her heart. For some reason she’d taken a fancy to the thing. “Olivia, are you certain about the amount?”
    Olivia nodded, a grim line to her mouth. For an instant their eyes met and Honoria could see the concern in her younger sister’s eyes. Honoria collected herself and managed a reassuring smile, though smiling was the last thing she felt like doing. “Well, now we know where we stand. Thank you for your efforts. You have done a smash-up job.” As Olivia returned to her seat, Honoria faced her small audience. “We must economize.”
    There was a moment of silence and then everyone began to nod.
    Cassandra clasped her hands together, her lovely violet eyes wide. “Lady Melrose wishes me to come and read to her each morning. She is only willing to pay a shilling a month, but it will help.”
    “But you hate Lady Melrose!” Portia exclaimed. At Cassandra’s gentle look of reproof, Portia amended, “Well, I hate her. She’s a nasty old woman, forever complaining.”
    “I rather think she has suffered some disappointments which have made her so difficult,” Cassandra said softly. “Either way, I am certain it will be no hardship to merely read to her.”
    “That’s an excellent idea,” Honoria said. “I will see about selling some of my snuffboxes.”
    “Oh no!” Cassandra said. “You have been collecting those since you were young!”
    Honoria didn’t allow herself the luxury of glancing at the glass cabinet that held her collection, some forty-two snuffboxes in all. In truth, the thought of selling them reduced her spirits to below the level of the rag beneath her feet.
    Father had given her the first one when she’d been no older than George. As she’d grown older, it had been a passion she and Father had shared. She’d become an expert in the delicate French enamels that were so popular. And Father had delighted in her ability to spot a quality piece and to haggle the price even lower.
    George piped up. “Honoria shouldn’t have to sell her boxes. If you need more funds, I’d be willing to breed frogs.”
    Olivia made a rude noise. “Breed frogs? Lord love you, George, but you’re a sail short this evening, aren’t you?”
    George pointedly ignored Olivia. “Father always said that if there wasn’t a market for your goods, then you’d have to make one.” He frowned at the fat frog that was even now hanging half out of the soup tureen. “Perhaps I can teach Achilles some tricks, for he is the smartest frog I’ve ever had. Then people would be anxious to buy his offspring.”
    “You don’t need to do that,” Portia said with a smug smile, eyeing the frog with a knowing gleam. “Just breed them as fat as Achilles there and all sorts of people will line up to toss them into their soup pots. The French love a good, fat frog, and there are few as plump as that one.”
    George turned wide eyes toward his sister. “The French eat frogs?”
    “They don’t call the Frenchies ‘frogs’ for nothing. They eat them all of the time.”
    George’s bottom lip thrust forward. “I’m not selling Achilles to any Frenchmen! Just to Englishmen who will treat him well. Besides, Achilles is not your ordinary frog. He’s smart and I daresay he tastes horrid.”
    “I daresay you are