Night of the Candles Read Online Free PDF Page B

the house, in the hall, she thought, there was a grandfather clock for she could hear it ticking. The sound of the rain had dwindled. She was glad since it made her leaving easier.
    Theo stood beneath the brass chandelier in the center of the oriental carpet of once rich colors on gold. “You mustn’t blame Jason for what he said just now. He took Amelia’s death hard. I have the idea sometimes that he blames himself, though it’s hard to see what else he could have done for her. You … the way you look … brought it all back.”
    “I can see that. However, Jason seems to have forgotten that I can feel grief too.”
    “Possibly. Grief is a selfish emotion bound up with the sense of personal loss. Still, he meant nothing against you, and I don’t want you to … to take too much to heart all the hurtful things he said.”
    “I appreciate your concern…”
    ‘Theo … call me Theo,” he broke in.
    “…Theo. Really there’s no need to worry about me. I’m not, truly, a very emotional person. I don’t believe a few words spoken in anger can hurt me.”
    That was certainly true. Now that she was calmer she could feel her usual self-control returning, wrapping around her like a protective comforter. How often in the past had she regretted her inability to expose her emotions? Amelia had not been like that. Amelia had been quick to anger, her rage flaring up, then quickly dying away. Her joy had known no bounds; her affection had been swiftly given, conveyed without restraint or embarrassment. When she cried she had wept aloud, not suffered the aching constriction of silent tears that Amanda knew. How had it come about? Look at Amanda, her grandmother had said often in those early days. She knows the conduct becoming in a lady. And the young Amanda, only a year older than Amelia, had tried to be a model of poise and reserve to keep her grandmother’s approval. Well, it didn’t matter now. Still, how wonderful it must have been for a time to beloved with such desperation. Desperation — a strange word to use in conjunction with love. What she had meant was that degree of intensity.
    Theo was still standing before her.
    “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something else while you wait? Another glass of wine?”
    “Thank you, Theo, but no. I’m all right. It … it is nice for you to be concerned about me … and about Jason.”
    He looked almost embarrassed. “As to that, Jason has been a good friend. We grew up together, neighbors, until after the war. My family lost everything. The shock was too much for my parents. They’re still living, if you can call it that, with an older sister in town. Jason’s people died during the war — his father on the battlefield, his mother and younger brother of typhoid — along with quite a few of the hands here. We were alone. Jason took me in as a sort of overseer. And then, of course, Sophia came to help keep house when Amelia got so bad. Yes, we owe Jason a great deal.”
    Amanda murmured something agreeable, looking up as Sophia came into the room carrying her things and also a long cloak, thrown over her arm.
    Sophia handed the bonnet with the gloves inside it and the reticule to Amanda, and then draped the cloak over the arm of the settee. “I thought you might need this to protect you from the rain. It is coated with rubber. Theo will have one like it, and this will keep him from having to play the gallant and give it to you.”
    “Sophia…” Theo began.
    “Well I’m sure Amanda has no wish to shelter with you under yours, and the gig does have open sides.”
    “Thank you,” Amanda said, quietly holding the other girl’s chilled gaze. Sophia did not look away.
    “There is an oiled silk umbrella beside the door you can use. You can give it, and the cloak also, to Theo when you get into town.”
    “Yes, I’ll do that.” When had the other woman become so antagonistic? Had it been when she had learned that Amanda was independent with property of her own?