The Bracelet Read Online Free PDF

of us taking turns, the girl will progress even faster.” She set down her cup and smiled at Celia. “It’s always a privilege to help those less fortunate. Isn’t it, Cousin?”
    Mrs. Clayton beamed. “Splendid. Miss Ransom will be so relieved. When can you start?”
    Celia stifled the impulse to do Ivy bodily harm. Nothing to cause permanent disfigurement. That would be wrong. But a good hard pinch on the arm or a swift kick in the shins . . .
    She forced a smile. “May I consult my calendar and let you know?”
    “Of course.” Mrs. Clayton rose. “I must speak to the cook, and I imagine you have much to do as well.”
    “Yes,” Celia said. “We really must go.”
    “I’ll look forward to seeing you soon.” Mrs. Clayton patted Celia’s arm. “You, too, Miss Lorens. I cannot thank you enough.”
    Celia and Ivy left the asylum and descended the steps to the street, where Joseph waited with the carriage. He doffed his hat and helped them inside.
    Celia tamped down her anger and stared out the window as Joseph turned the carriage for home.
    “Don’t be cross with me,” Ivy said minutes later as they approached Madison Square.
    “Why shouldn’t I be?” Celia let out an exasperated sigh. “First you defend that awful Leo Channing, and then you volunteer my services to the asylum when you know perfectly well I have a million things to do. Whatever is the matter with you?”
    “Be honest, Celia.” Ivy reached up to corral a wayward blond curl that had escaped the confines of her veiled hat. “Aren’t you the least bit intrigued by the notion of a runaway? I haven’t met Louisa yet, but I must say I admire her for striking out and pursuing what she wants. It couldn’t have been easy to sneak aboard a cargo vessel and remain in hiding for days.”
    As the carriage made a wide turn onto Bull Street, Celia spotted a familiar horse and rig standing outside her gate, and her anger dissipated like morning fog. The instant Joseph halted the carriage, Celia wrenched open the door and raced up the steps, Louisa and the masquerade and Leo Channing fading from her thoughts.
    Sutton was home.
    She found him in Papa’s library and stood stock still, drinking in the sight of him. He was every bit as attractive as sheremembered—tall and broad-shouldered, dark hair curling over his forehead, his skin deeply tanned from two years beneath the harsh Jamaican sun.
    “Celia!” He set aside the magazine he’d been reading and strode toward her, both hands outstretched, his gaze warming her like a fire.
    Breathless with joy, she dropped her hat and reticule onto a settee and rushed into his arms. The long separation, the desperate silences between their letters, the powerful yearning to be with him every single minute were instantly forgotten. “You’re really here.”
    “At last.” His gray eyes lingered on her face. “My dear Miss Browning. Just as beautiful as I remembered.”
    “My dear Mr. Mackay. Just as silver-tongued as I remembered.” She laughed. “Not that the compliment is unappreciated.”
    He stepped back and bowed, his expression grave. Their eyes met, and they dissolved into the helpless laughter of their childhood.
    Mrs. Maguire came in with a tea tray and set it down with more force than was necessary. Celia sobered and inclined her head toward the housekeeper. “Thank you, Mrs. Maguire.”
    “Sure and you’re welcome, Miss.” Arms akimbo, the housekeeper frowned at Sutton. “So here you are at last.”
    “Yes, and very happy to be home.” Sutton grinned. “You’re looking exceedingly well, Mrs. Maguire. I do believe you are even more beautiful than when I left, if such a thing is possible.”
    Mrs. Maguire blushed. “Humph. Had you given me decent notice, boyo, I might have made that almond cake you’re so fond of. Instead, you’ll have to settle for yesterday’s tea cake.”
    Sutton winked at her. “I’m sure whatever you’ve brought will be just fine, and I thank you for it.