The Willows Read Online Free PDF Page B

stranger.
It smelled musty, unlived-in, and in many rooms the dust covers
still draped the furniture. Perhaps Uncle Jervis meant only to stay
the night, but surely he could have brought a servant or two from
the Willows to make life more comfortable. With no help, how on
earth was she’d to dress for the ball tonight.
    Alone in her room, she paced the floor,
wishing she had her own trunk so she could air, and then choose
from among her downs. As if in answer, she heard the carriage
outside.
    She raced down the stairs to greet
Lance. Stop by his serious expression, she poised on the bottom
step to glance about the otherwise empty hallway. “Where are my
trunks?”
    “ I encountered a slight
difficulty.”
    “ Difficulty?” Gripping the
oak banister, he felt the advent of a severe headache.
    Lance took a step forward, smile meant
to be reassuring. “It seems your ship sailed onto Argentina. But
don’t despair. She should be back in port by December.”
    “ My clothes are on their way
to South America?” She could hear her voice rising, and couldn’t
control it. Her ball gowns and satin slippers and been in those
trunks. Her hair ribbons and fans and crinolines.
    “ The, the bag seems to be
missing also. I’m told so man walked off with it.”
    She waved her hand dismissively, her
thoughts on her missing wardrobe. “He returned it to me. It’s
upstairs.”
    His face brightened. “Oh good, then you
can still attend the Fosters ball tonight.”
    All she had was the green wool she now
wore, and the two dresses in her bag, neither was a hoop skirt in
both designed for the cooler climates of Boston. Bad enough to be
in the heat, but Lance truly couldn’t expect her to go anywhere
looking like a frump.
    Just then cousin came into the hallway,
demure and ladylike in her soft, blue muslin. The look of
appreciation Lance gave her froze Gwen on the spot.
    “ Oh, dear, what seems to be
the problem?” Edith asked, hurrying over to stand beside Lance.
“Not bad news from your mother at Bell Oaks, I hope.”
    Had his autocratic mother summoned him
back to their plantation, Gwen knew, Lance would already be gone.
Annoyed, she was about to tell her cousin not to be so silly, when
Lance took the girl’s arm, putting her hand as if to console her.
“You are not to worry about me and fellow Oaks, “told Edith
smoothly. “ As a matter of fact, Gwen Elizabeth and I were merely
discussing the loss of her trunks. She seems to feel she cannot
possibly attend the ball to night without her full
wardrobe.”
    “ Oh, but think of all the
fun she will miss.” Edith smile proved she wasn’t thinking of Gwen
at all but of all the good time she meant to have in her absence.
Cataloging the night activities, she spoke to Lance alone, as if
Gwen were not even there.
    Watching how easily her lifelong love
laughed with her cousin, Gwen felt a prick of unease. Things had
changed while she was away, uncle Jervis had warned. Have these
two, in burying their differences, discovered a good deal more
alert beneath their animosity?
    All at once, the loss of her wardrobe
seemed unimportant. She was Gwyneth Elizabeth McCloud, the bell of
seven parishes; she could go to a bowl in a potato sack if she
chose to. Lance was hers-always had been, always would be-and no
female, be she cousin or otherwise, would be allowed to steal him
away.
     
    ***
     
    Patrick gave a sideways glance to Jude,
sitting on the other side of the bouncing wagon, visibly angry that
they were being sent back to the cabin. Knowing that there was
generally trouble when Jude got in one of these moves, Patrick
tried to point out the advantages of going home. “Can’t wait to be
fishing,” he said, forcing a smile. “And it sure will be good to
see Jeffery again.”
    Jude merely scowled. “Our first trip to
New Orleans in months and we had to leave early. It’s all her
fault, that clumsy cow.”
    “ Come on, you know weren’t
going to stay long anyway. It’s not safe for us