The English Witch Read Online Free PDF Page B

interminable length about obligations, filial devotion, and the superior character of Mr. Burnham.
    Since she'd heard all of this several hundred times before, there was no need to attend very closely. Instead, she concentrated on how best to manage her stubborn Papa. When he finally paused for breath, she answered as though she'd considered all he'd said very seriously. "Of course, that's all true, Papa. But you don't know Mr. Trevelyan yet, do you? Hasn't he made something of himself—starting with nothing—in only six years? And hasn't he been true to me all this while? With his background he might have had his pick of brides in England, but instead he's worked and sacrificed—all for me. Even if I did now have some doubt of my feelings—for I was only eighteen when I met him—I must esteem him for his courage and devotion."
    This was doing it rather brown—especially the part about being true to her, when she strongly suspected that Mr. Trevelyan had about as much notion of fidelity as a tomcat. Nonetheless, Alexandra would have cheerfully committed any extravagance that promised freedom from the ghastly Burnhams.
    Sir Charles, however, was not to be won over so easily. "Yes, dear, I daresay the young man has behaved admirably. But really, what choice had he, if he had, as you say, nothing? And what of Mr. Burnham's patience? He has waited several years, never complaining."
    Well, of course he wouldn't complain. He didn't care one way or other about it. Summoning up all her patience, Al exandra dutifully endured her father's anxieties about the Burnhams, who even now must be preparing for the wedding.
    "And what of Society?" he persisted. "Everyone knows you're promised to Randolph. No one knows anything of any attachment to Mr. Trevelyan. You'll be labelled ‘jilt.’ And everyone will think that the Ashmores have no sense of honour."
    Bother your honour, Alexandra thought. And to talk of Society—as if he'd ever in his life cared what Society thought about anything, as if anyone in Society had ever heard of the Burnhams—was the height of absurdity.
    Squelching a sigh of vexation, she answered ingenuously, "I don't understand, Papa, how it's less dishonourable to abandon a man who's sacrificed so much on my account and trusted me all these years to keep my promise to him."
    The baronet was growing exasperated. He couldn't in all honesty claim that she had no obligation to Mr. Trevelyan. Sir Charles was beginning to feel cornered. "This is merely a childish infatuation, Alexandra. As I'm sure you and Mr. Trevelyan will soon find out. People change in six years. What seems romantic at eighteen looks very different at four-and-twenty."
    She gazed at him as though struck by what he said. Then, in a slow, thoughtful voice, she answered. "Well, to tell the truth, I hadn't thought of that, Papa. I was so overjoyed to see him again—and as my gallant rescuer. I suppose it was very romantic."
    Her father nodded, looking obnoxiously complacent. But his complacency began to fade as she went on.
    "In that case, I don't see what you're alarmed about. For if it is, as you say, only infatuation, then we'll discover it soon enough, won't we? Very likely, by the time we're home again—or soon after, surely— Mr. Trevelyan and I will have taken each other in dislike. And everything will settle itself peaceably with neither dishonour nor hurt feelings. How perceptive you are, Papa."
    Papa being, as they say, hoist with his own petard, could produce no answer for this. He had to content himself with grumbling about childish infatuations and wondering why he and Randolph should have to put up with such behaviour. However, as it turned out, he hadn't time to annoy himself or his daughter much more on that subject. They'd no sooner left the house and joined the others near the grape arbour when they heard in the distance a dull thundering.
    This gradually resolved itself into the pounding of