The New Year's Quilt (Elm Creek Quilts Novels) Read Online Free PDF

Rosemary, Henry’s sister. “It’s for Elizabeth.”
    “I don’t know if Elizabeth should be drinking this, either.”
    “If she’s not old enough for punch, maybe she’s not old enough to get married.”
    Her father was so astonished that he rocked back on his heels and laughed. Sylvia flushed and turned away, but her father caught her by the arm. “Very well, little miss, you may take your cousin some punch. Mind you don’t sample it along the way.”
    Sylvia nodded and held very still as her father ladled steaming punch into her teacup. With small, careful steps, she skirted the dance floor and made her way back to Elizabeth. She scowled to find that Henry had replaced Rosemary at Elizabeth’s side.
    “Here you go,” Sylvia said, presenting the cup to her cousin. Elizabeth thanked her and took it with both hands. Pleased with herself and relieved that she had accomplished the task without spilling a single drop, she sat down on the floor at her cousin’s feet, ready to block her path should Henry take her hand and attempt to lead her to the dance floor.
    “Your father won’t be happy to see you drinking,” Henry warned in a low voice that Sylvia barely overheard.
    “My father is the last person who should complain about anyone’s drinking.”
    “He’s not drinking tonight.”
    “Yes, and don’t you find it interesting that he can exercise some self-control while all the family is watching, and yet he can’t muster up any fortitude at home?”
    Sylvia heard Henry shift in his chair to take Elizabeth’s cup. “Maybe you’ve had too much already. You’re not used to this stuff.”
    “Henry, that’s truly not necessary. I only had a sip—”
    Infuriated, Sylvia spun around to glare at him. “My daddy made that punch and it’s very good. You’re just mad because I brought it to her instead of you. You have to spoil everything!”
    Henry regarded her for a moment, expressionless, his hands frozen around Elizabeth’s as she clutched the cup. A thin wisp of steam rose between them. “Never mind,” said Henry, dropping his hands to his lap. “If you want to drink it, drink it.”
    “No, no, that’s fine.” Elizabeth passed him the cup so quickly he almost spilled it. “I’m not thirsty after all.”
    Henry clearly didn’t believe her, but he set the cup aside. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
    “I promised Sylvia I would dance with her.”
    Sylvia was too overcome with relief that Elizabeth had not forgotten her promise to pay any attention to Henry’s reply. When he rose and walked away, she promptly scooted his chair closer to Elizabeth’s and sat down upon it. Absently, Elizabeth took her hand and watched the dancers in silence. Sylvia pretended not to notice that her cousin was troubled. Elizabeth was here, she was going to give Sylvia her turn, and Sylvia was not going to probe her with questions that might make her too unhappy or distracted to dance.
    At last the song ended, and after a momentary pause another lively tune began. Elizabeth smiled at her and said, “Are you ready to cut a rug?”
    Sylvia nodded and took her hand. Elizabeth led her to the dance floor and counted out the first few beats, then threw herself into a jaunty Charleston. Sylvia struggled to keep up at first, distracted by the music that drowned out Elizabeth’s counting and the many eyes upon them, but she stoked her courage and persevered. She felt a thrill of delight when she spotted Claudia watching them, mouth open in astonishment. Henry’s disgruntled frown filled her with satisfaction, and she kicked higher and smiled broader just to spite him. Most of the guests had put aside their own dancing to gather in a circle around the two cousins as they danced side by side. Sylvia mirrored her graceful cousin’s spirited steps as closely as she could, praying her family and the guests wouldn’t notice her mistakes.
    All too soon the song ended. Breathless and laughing, Elizabeth took Sylvia’s hand