True Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

Tell me every word.”
    â€œTheir conversation was brief and very confusing to me.”
    â€œTell me every word just as it was spoken.”
    â€œCameron Cunningham was curious about the design on the cask. Captain Brown explained to Captain Cunningham where the cargo came from and gave him our location. The next day, from a member of Cunningham’s crew, Captain Brown learned that Cameron visited the daughter of the sixth duke of Ross, who lives in Glasgow. Someone they knew had drawn a similar symbol as the one you put on that cask. They are looking for that person. Brown also found out that they planned to sail for Norfolk as soon as possible.”
    They were sailing here, right now, to fetch Virginia. But who was “they”? Who was coming with Cameron? Tears pooled in her eyes and her heart soared. “I first drew the design years ago.”
    â€œWhat will you do now?”
    Deciding for herself on anything but the most elementary actions was as unnatural to Virginia as sleeping on a soft bed. One thing was certain: She’d throw her arms around Cameron Cunningham and cry her heart out. Mrs. Parker-Jones needn’t know that. “I’m not sure what to do. When you said ‘they’ were sailing, whom did you mean?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Merriweather returned with a silver tray. He poured two glasses of brandy. Mrs. Parker-Jones took them both and handed one to Virginia.
    Had she ever tasted brandy? She couldn’t remember, and strong spirits weren’t poured at table in the servants’ hamlet. Unsure of the proper way to drink the brandy, she waited and watched. When Mrs. Parker-Jones took only a sip, Virginia did the same. The liquor burned a path to her stomach, and she almost choked.
    â€œDrink it gently.” Clutching her own glass in both hands, Mrs. Parker-Jones took another sip. “I wish you had told me who you were.”
    Virginia almost huffed in disbelief, but habit prevented her. “Would you have believed me?”
    â€œI do not know, but I like to think I would have written a letter for you.”
    Compared to the former owner of Poplar Knoll, Mrs. Parker-Jones was a saint. But the Morelands’ cruelty was a part of the past. Cameron was on his way. Virginia would be free again. At the thought, her hands shook and she gripped the small glass until her hands grew numb.
    â€œPlease believe that I would have helped you.”
    Acknowledging the mistress’s kindness seemed of great importance to Virginia. “Saying that you might have helped me is enough.”
    â€œMerriweather, have—” Turning to Virginia, she said, “Is miss the proper address for a duke’s daughter?”
    Class distinctions were one of the reasons the colonies had fought and won their independence from England. Virginia had spent her youth beneath the banner of revolution. Could she adjust to the social structure of her homeland? Not immediately.
    By way of explanation, Mrs. Parker-Jones said, “My family was from Pennsylvania—rather provincial, you see. So I haven’t any experience with the gentry.”
    A reply to that honesty was easy. “The proper way is my lady, but I’d like to be called Virginia.”
    â€œThen Virginia it is. Merriweather, have Virginia’s things brought to the guest room facing the river. You’ll need dresses, hats, and shoes. Everything. They cannot see you as you are.”
    Reality set in and, with it, the second most defining statement Virginia had every heard. The first had been on the deck of Anthony MacGowan’s ship. His words still had the power to wound. Get to the galley or I’ll chain you in the hold until we dock in Norfolk. If you tell anyone on this ship who you are, I’ll throw you overboard and say you fell.
    Merriweather left. Virginia put aside thoughts of Anthony MacGowan and the fear he’d instilled in her. “Please tell me everything