The Fugitive Heiress Read Online Free PDF Page B

my best,” Catheryn said with a chuckle, “though I’m sure I don’t know what I shall say, for she will be amazingly angry. I must rely upon your note to calm her.”
    “Well, I don’t know,” her ladyship said doubtfully. “After all, I am not acquainted with Lady Caston, though I daresay that after being in a worry, she will be grateful to know that you are safe here with me. I shall beg her to let you stay a good long time, too, and perhaps just mention that I shall introduce you to my friends. She will recognize that as an excellent opportunity for you, I make no doubt. We must just hope it will answer the purpose.”

III
    W HEN TIFFANY PUSHED OPEN the door to a second-floor bedchamber Catheryn exclaimed with pleasure, mentally comparing its serene luxury to the decayed grandeur of Westering and the austerity of the chamber she had occupied at Caston Manor. The tranquil atmosphere was enhanced by well-executed woodland scenes decking white-paneled walls, pale green curtains framing a view of the rear gardens, and late afternoon sun spilling a bright golden path across the green carpet. Catheryn’s meager belongings had been unpacked, and Tiffany moved at once to examine a pair of miniatures on the nightstand, asking if they were of Catheryn’s parents. When Catheryn nodded, she exclaimed, “But how beautiful your mother was!”
    Catheryn agreed. “Yes, was she not? Much prettier than I can ever hope to be.”
    Instead of refuting the statement, Tiffany stared at her thoughtfully. “Yes, very likely. But you have a great deal of countenance, Cousin, and I daresay could make much of yourself if you would but try. That dress is sadly out of date and ill-fitting, and you have allowed your complexion to get too brown. That will fade if you have a care of it. You are too short to be really elegant and have too sturdy a figure to be described as exquisite or delicate, but your eyes are very fine and your hair is lovely. If we put our heads together, I believe we can turn you out in style. The critics shall applaud you as a taking little thing.”
    Somewhat taken aback by this candid assessment, Catheryn smiled doubtfully but replied in agreeable tones, “I shall place myself in your hands, my lady.”
    “Very well though you must call me Tiffany, you know, if we are to be cousins. But now, tell me all about yourself.”
    Catheryn complied willingly enough and soon decided, despite her first impression, that she could easily come to like the girl. There was warmth in the ready laughter following her unflattering description of Edmund Caston revealing a naive friendliness under that sophisticated veneer. She knew, too, that she would welcome Tiffany’s experience and good taste when it came time to select her new wardrobe. Nevertheless, when Tiffany left, Catheryn breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention to composing a brief note to Lady Caston. Once it was addressed and sealed with one of the wafers provided for the purpose, she removed her dress, curled up on the bed under a soft quilt, and soon fell fast asleep.
    A gentle touch some time later caused her to stretch like a kitten and turn to her other side. A hand grasped her shoulder firmly, jogging her until she opened one sleepy eye and then the other. Suddenly remembering where she was, she came wide awake, sat up, and pushed her hair out of her face. A gaunt, middle-aged woman in a simple blue armazine gown stood beside the bed.
    “You must be Fowler!” Catheryn exclaimed, impulsively holding out a hand. The woman hesitated but finally extended her own. Catheryn squeezed it warmly. “How kind of you to offer your services,” she said, slipping off the bed. She sensed that Fowler did not approve of her and probably condemned her easy manners, so she summoned her most appealing smile. “It is quite a compliment to her ladyship that you have agreed to help me, for it cannot be a normal part of your duties to wait upon impecunious young