Lord Clayborne's Fancy Read Online Free PDF Page B

things they be—but bless me if she doesn’t forget her very meals with all her studies there.”
    Although Bridge might grunt at this evidence of Rebecca’s activities, the young lady herself was in earnest. The books she pored over were any she could find—old medical texts, home remedy recipes, scientific journals—that might give her a clue to why her husband had thought her lacking virginity on her wedding night. In spite of her spate of redecorating, her paramount problem was never far from her mind and, although she learned a great deal from all her reading, she did not find what she was looking for. As she exhausted the resources of the Gray Oaks library, and the work neared completion in the three rooms she had chosen to refurbish, she found herself a prey to depressing thoughts which threatened to overwhelm her. There was no one to talk to, no one to whom she could confide her troubles... except Firely.
    As Rebecca galloped across the fields on the patient little mare, she often spoke her thoughts, which were harmlessly carried away by the wind, while Firely’s ears flickered back and forth at the sound. “Why can’t I find out what it meant, that night in the bedroom? Is there some secret thing that should have happened? I cannot imagine anything more than I felt! Oh, why did Mama not tell me more? Why didn’t I ask?” She drew in the mare on a hillock to survey the home farm and the stream which lay in the valley.
    “Everything looks so peaceful. I shall have to ride over to the farm soon and see how little Jennie goes on. Jason could at least have introduced me to someone my age. He has left me a virtual prisoner here, with no hope of reprieve. I trusted him, Firely. He was so kind and considerate before that night. No matter what Mama said, I would not have married him otherwise. And not even a letter from him! How does he think that looks to his precious household?”
    She urged the mare forward once more, trying not to take her exasperation out on the horse. Instead, they pounded across the fields until Firely and Rebecca both were ready to rest, and Rebecca had achieved a more satisfactory frame of mind. “I shall be especially conciliating when he returns. Perhaps this long absence will have restored his equanimity. He will have thought better of his absurd notion, and even if he hasn’t, well, I shall talk to him and he will understand.” Through the rest of September and well into October she cherished this dream, clasping it like a talisman, as her only hope.
    Rebecca was seated in the topiary, her favorite spot, and reading an entertaining novel when she heard footsteps approaching her along the path. The lingering smile on her face faded as she saw that Clayborne was wearing the scowl she had come to associate with him before he left. She did not speak as he approached her.
    Surveying her critically, Clayborne commented “You have put on some weight since I left.” He had meant to add, in a sarcastic tone, of course, that he was glad she found it possible to enjoy her meals when spared his company, when the blaze of fury in her eyes shocked him into silence.
    “I am not increasing, your lordship, as any maid in the house could no doubt inform you,” she flared. “I see your journey has not dispelled your ridiculous obsession”
    “Nor improved your disposition, ma’am. If you will excuse me.” He sketched the travesty of a bow and left her, with breast heaving in agitation and anger, to glare after his retreating form. She could have wept with frustration to have all her plans upset at one blow. Why had she allowed herself to flash at him that way? Deep down she knew that it had been her fondest wish that when he saw her again there would be some sign of welcome from him, some tentative gesture of reconciliation. His scowl had unnerved her, and his words had brought back his cruel speech that morning long ago in the breakfast room. She had meant to meet him halfway, more than