The Impossible Ward Read Online Free PDF Page B

when he had blithely set forth to carry out Perry’s last wish? Completely unlike him in appearance, she possessed her father’s cool insolence in full measure. He gave a short bark of laughter at which Mountain perked up his ears. Absently he patted the big stallion. “Yes, old boy, an arresting quality to be sure, but not one to win admirers even in a more eye-catching female.” He frowned, thinking that it was his mother who would bear the greatest burden of this ill-natured girl’s company. In the few days prior to his departure for Yorkshire, she had talked herself into a state of pleased anticipation and was eagerly looking forward to outfitting her “borrowed daughter,” as she had gaily referred to the unknown Marianne. A sour smile routed the frown temporarily. Well, in that department at least she would have unlimited scope for her talents. He had never seen anyone in greater need of a thorough overhaul than his reluctant ward. So far he had seen his charge in nothing save unrelieved black, even before she had been made aware of her father’s death. That dress last night had the appearance of having been fashioned for a much larger woman, the ugly cap was yellow with age, and she had worn no ornament of any kind—not so much as a knot of ribbon. Surely even in the country, fashions filtered down from Town after a time, and there could be no serious lack of funds, judging by the condition of the farm and the contents of the house. His frown deepened as a remembered picture of a girl’s mocking face danced before his eyes. In that instant an unassailable conviction smote him that she had deliberately made herself as unattractive as possible—but why? He was examining this unsavory theory when Mountain came over a small rise, and instinctively he reined in the bay to survey the delightful scene sloping away from him.
    The lane ended at a small lake, its sparkling waters reflecting the pure blue of an almost cloudless sky. Sunlight gleamed on the waters and gilded the long grass waving gently right down to meet the water, except in one spot to the right where a shelf of rock-strewn sand formed a narrow beach. On the opposite side the land rose gently again. Hedges outlined fields already harvested. He could see to a line of low hills stretching across to the north and east, and an occasional cottage tucked in among the hills.
    A movement some distance to his left brought his attention back to the near shore. The subject of his solitary musings of a moment ago was racing toward the water from a field behind the house. Even hampered by heavy skirts that she alternately kicked and lifted, he had to admire her speed. She was nearly to the water’s edge now and had cast off the shawl she had been wearing. Good Lord, what was she about, ripping at the fastenings of her gown with impatient hands? Surely she did not have the intention of swimming at this time of year! Without conscious planning he swung Mountain off the lane and urged him down the sloping ground to a fallow field, then up a rise before descending near the spot where the girl had been ripping at her clothes. By the time he had topped the final rise and once again could see the water, she was already emerging from the lake, staggering a little under the weight of an inert bundle in her arms, greatly impeded by her chemise which clung to her legs, making it difficult to climb up the sloping bank. Within seconds he was off Mountain and had raced to her side, removing the bundle which he could now see was a young child. Her arms freed, she climbed unaided out of the water before he could put the child down to come to her assistance. So far neither had uttered a syllable, the only sound in the world was the coughing and choking of the now partially revived child.
    “Thank God! For a moment I feared he was dead.”
    The girl hastily retrieved her woolen shawl and, kneeling, wrapped it around the little boy Justin had laid in the grass. As she gathered the