Love in Three-Quarter Time Read Online Free PDF Page A

settled in her belly. Everything depended on her success in this endeavor. She wondered if Richmond could ever accept the Cavendish family, but she wouldn’t bring up the more probable scenario.
    At least not yet.
    * * *
    Patience blew out the candle on the bedside table, leaving the small room she shared with Constance to the full moon’s illumination. Midnight had come and gone before they finished the sewing, and 8 a.m. would arrive all too soon, when she’d be due at the mercantile. “I’m too tired to sleep,” she whispered.
    The bedclothes next to her rustled as Constance rolled over and propped herself on an elbow. “What do you think, Patience? Dare I wait for a letter?”
    â€œDare you risk running into Robbie Montgomery? Oh Constance, I know you love us and would do anything for us, but that is simply too much to ask. You should tell Mother the truth. She would understand.”
    â€œYou saw their faces. I can do this. I will find the strength. I always do.”
    Only Patience had seen the pain Constance endured at Robbie’s hand. They’d all been through so much. But his rejection had been one blow too many. For months Constance moved through life in a haze, going through the motions as a shell of her former self. Mother had been too distraught over Papa’s death and desperate to save the plantation to notice anything particularly amiss with Constance. Grammy had stayed busy keeping Mother sane. Felicity had been too young to understand.
    No, only Patience knew what this job would cost Constance.
    â€œReally, I can do it.” Constance tapped the nightstand.
    Of course she
could
. This stoic Constance who had emerged from the ashes of their former life felt little and expressed less. How Patience missed her vibrant, fiery sister. Had she been a bit spoiled and selfish, headstrong and temperamental? Of course she had, but it was all part of her infamous charm. “I know you can. But I wish you would consider your own needs for once.”
    â€œI am considering myself. I want out of this life as much as any of them.”
    Patience sighed. “So do I.” Her feet ached from standing at the mercantile all day, and now her fingers throbbed from numerous pricks as well. Hence, she did not stay home and sew. Patience required people and action, not needles and thread—although the idea of a little school appealed to her.
    â€œI don’t think I should wait on a letter,” Constance said. “I think I should go myself.”
    â€œMuch as I hate to admit it, I agree. If you mean to do this thing, then you must do it right. I’ll talk to Trader Jack first thing tomorrow. I think he plans to leave around noon.” Patience would miss her sister.
    â€œI can’t travel with him alone.”
    â€œHe always has that Indian wife of his along, although he doesn’t advertise her about town. I don’t blame him for hiding her. We Cavendishes know better than anyone how Richmond society can gossip. Anyway, you’ll be safe enough with the two of them.”
    They lay in silence for a moment.
    â€œI’ll do it.”
    Of course she would. Constance always did right without a word of complaint. Patience couldn’t help thinking about what “Gingersnap” Cavendish would have been like at this age. Married. A mother. Mellowed to be certain, but still full of fire and spunk. She needed some joy back in her life. They all did.
    â€œAnd be sure to use your Yorkshire accent.” Patience giggled. “Plenty of thees and thous and thys.”
    Constance giggled along with her. “You can’t be serious.”
    â€œWhy not? It would be fun. You may as well make it as pleasant as you can.”
    â€œI always find pleasure in dancing,” Constance sighed.
    Poor girl, once the belle of the ball, now reduced to teaching dance as a trade. While she did indeed seem to enjoy it, Patience never saw the bliss on her