The Merry Month of May Read Online Free PDF

dazed joy on her mother’s face, and her first wild surmise was confirmed. Haldiman had come to offer. She stood trembling with emotion as she gazed at him. What answer should she give him? If she could ever love any man, it would be Lord Haldiman. She didn’t love him—yet, but she sensed that she could, without too much effort. Indeed, it had taken some effort to restrain her growing interest in him at the time of Peter’s death, when he called fairly often. Haldiman was a man of good sense and good character. One never heard of him carrying on with his servants.
    He had something of Peter’s good looks, with the air of recklessness tempered to sobriety. His dark head rode at a proud angle. Deep blue eyes studied her nervously. She noticed a muscle twitch at the corner of his jaw and realized with shock that he was nervous. It seemed ludicrous that he should be nervous of her. Did he actually care for her then, love her?
    “What is it you have to say, sir?” she asked in a breathless voice.
    Mrs. Wood discreetly slipped from the room, to dart back and tell Mary the news.
    “I fear this will come as a great shock, Miss Wood—Sara. Perhaps you had best sit down.”
    She sat with her eyes lowered to conceal her emotional turmoil, but her nervous fingers, fussing with her skirt, betrayed her. Haldiman gazed a moment wondering how she would react. Sara was such a quiet, withdrawn woman, he never knew what she was thinking. Whatever her feelings, she wouldn’t make a scene.
    He cleared his throat and plunged in, “I know that when Peter left six years ago, you were totally undone. So were we all.” She lifted her eyes, listening. They were a soft, dove gray, fringed with long lashes. He read the sadness there and felt an overwhelming desire to strike Peter. Sara looked like a sorrowful Madonna. It was infamous to have served her such a stunt; and now to have to confess the rest of it, the marriage in America, the sons.
    “Yes,” she said briefly. It was her customary response, designed to get over the heavy ground of unwanted pity and get on with business.
    Haldiman threw up his hands in frustration. “There’s no easy way to say it. Peter is back,” he said. “He’s come home.”
    “Back?” It was not even a whisper, but the echo of a whisper, light as a baby’s breath.
    He watched in dismay as her eyes rolled up, her face turned as white as paper, and she slid back against the pillows. Like his mama, she had fainted dead away. Haldiman lunged forward and took her hands. He should be calling for brandy and for her mother. Before there was time for any of this, Sara opened her eyes and gazed at him with wild bewilderment. His head was close to hers, his dark eyes full of emotion. His fingers clung tightly to hers. For a moment they just gazed at each other, speechless. Some unspoken word hovered in the air between them. Sara raised a hand to shade her eyes from the torment of that look.
    “Forgive me,” she said in a small voice. “I—I thought you said Peter was back. So foolish of me.”
    Haldiman tightened his grip on her hands till her fingers ached. He studied her, gauging her emotional state, and finally spoke. “I did. Peter is back. He returned last night. He’s been in Canada.”
    “But how is it possible? He’s supposed to be dead.”
    “He will come and explain all that himself. I feared you might be overcome if he came in person. I’m sorry I made such a wretched botch of it, Sara. I should have prepared you in some manner ...”
    Her gray eyes looked huge in her pale face. She hadn’t realized yet what it meant. Haldiman was uncertain whether to give the bad news first that Peter was widowed, or the good news that he wanted to marry her.
    Slowly the situation percolated through Sara’s mind. He was back. Like Nemesis, Peter had returned. If this meant that their betrothal was still intact, she would run away. That’s all. She would just disappear from the parish forever. She became