The Bartered Bride. Cheryl ReavisЧитать онлайн книгу.
hair, but it quickly became too much of an effort. She hunted until she found the frayed calico work dress she’d arrived in and her underclothes, and she put them on. Then she tilted the mirror on the washstand downward and turned sideways to look at herself. Avery had been right. She was beginning to show.
Poor baby—
“Caroline,” Leah Steigermann said behind her, making her jump. She smoothed the front of her dress and turned to face her.
“You are better today, yes?” Leah asked kindly, but her eyes went to Caroline’s belly.
“Yes,” Caroline answered. “Better.” She could feel her eyes welling with tears again, and she looked abruptly away.
“I’ve brought you something to eat—some of my mother’s egg custard. You’ll like it, I think. Come sit here.” She pulled a chair closer to the fireplace with her free hand, handing Caroline the custard cup, a starched napkin and a spoon when she sat down. “Go on,” she coaxed. “It’s what you need now.”
Caroline looked at the custard, then began to eat. It was quite delicious.
“You must eat all of it,” Leah said. She knelt in front of the fireplace to add another cedar log to the fire. The smell of burning cedar filled the room and a shower of sparks flew out onto the hearth and up the chimney. “I have promised my father.”
“Promised him what?” Caroline asked. She kept glancing at Leah’s profile as she deftly managed the log with the heavy iron poker. Leah was very beautiful, and spoiled, and pampered, and Caroline would never have guessed that she would attempt such a mundane task as stoking a fire.
“I promised him that I’d get you to eat something so you will have strength,” she said, still poking at the log. She looked at Caroline. “He’s coming to talk to you.”
About what? Caroline nearly asked, but the question was ridiculous. There would be but one topic of conversation for John Steigermann or anyone else—her illicit pregnancy. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to think about how stupid she had been.
Oh, Kader.
She had loved Kader Gerhardt for a long time. She had loved him enough to tell him so—afterward. And she had seen the veiled look that came into his eyes. She realized immediately that her love was of no importance to him. He had wanted her body, not her devotion. She kept telling herself that she hadn’t meant for anything to happen between them that day. She hadn’t gone looking for him. She’d only meant to return a book he’d loaned her—Dying Testimonies of the Saved and Unsaved. She was going to leave it on his desk, but he was working in the schoolroom. She had stood by the door for a moment watching him, surrounded by the smell of leather-bound books and India ink and wood smoke from the back draft in the small fireplace. And she had loved finding him so completely unaware.
He looked up sharply when he realized he wasn’t alone. “You shouldn’t be here, Caroline,” he said immediately. “What if someone saw you? How would it look?”
“I—I only meant to return this,” she said, flustered because he was here and because he was as cross with her as if she’d been one of his recalcitrant pupils.
He stood up from the desk and came closer. She waited, waited for his nearness so that she could savor his clean masculine smell. Kader Gerhardt didn’t stink of sweat and horses and manure. Kader Gerhardt was a gentleman.
“You cause me a great deal of difficulty,” he said, taking the book out of her hand.
“I’m very sorry to disturb you,” she said, still distressed that her unannounced presence had offended him so.
“Does…Avery know you’re here?”
“Avery? No. Avery’s in town buying seed.”
He had smiled then, and he’d been so kind. And how she had craved his kindness. She had been so grateful for it that she took the full responsibility for his passion. The thing that had happened between them was her fault. She had come upstairs to the schoolroom alone. She had let him kiss her. She had let him take her. She had let herself be completely overcome by her need for him, and she had lost herself in the touches and kisses and the rush to free her from the layers of wool and muslin that kept them apart.
And then it was abruptly over, and he’d left her lying alone, oblivious to the fact that she was shaken and still needing him so badly. She had tried to cover herself. She could hear children running and playing in the churchyard below.
“It’s nothing,” Kader said, intent now on righting his own clothes. “Just the boys playing war. They won’t come up here.”
And then he explained to her how this had all come about.
“You made it impossible for me, Caroline,” he said sadly, as if she had deliberately set out to ruin him. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“I…love you, Kader,” she said, and it was a long time before he answered.
“We will have to be strong, Caroline,” he said finally, not looking at her. “We must behave properly—for your sake.”
His idea of propriety had been to rush her from the schoolroom as quickly as possible before someone saw her there. And to make certain that she had no notion of mentioning anything to Avery. She had been devastated by his coldness. She had given him everything, and he’d only wanted her to get out.
And someone had seen her there. Eli Graeber, Frederich’s nephew, who thankfully didn’t speak enough English to understand. Since that day Kader had all but forgotten she existed. There had been no more offers to loan her books, or newspapers with the latest war news. No requests for her help with the younger children in his class. No attempts to engage her in conversation behind Avery’s back at Sunday church services. No wishes for her good health sent via William. She wondered if he knew how dire her need for good health was now.
She realized suddenly that Leah had said something that required her comment. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said I could loan you something of mine to wear.”
“The dress I have is fine, Leah. I…don’t much care how I look.”
“Then I will go to your house and get some of your own things,” Leah decided.
“No. Please—”
“I will go, Caroline,” she insisted. “Avery won’t say no to me.”
No, Caroline thought unkindly. And vice versa.
“Eat,” Leah chided. “Please eat some more.”
Caroline shook her head. She was feeling light-headed and queasy again. “I’ve had enough, I think. Please tell your mother it’s—How much I—”
“There,” Leah said brightly, as if Caroline hadn’t been about to cry again. “The fire’s going. I’ll go tell my father to come up. Are you all right, Caroline? You are so pale.”
Caroline managed a painful smile, but she didn’t reply.
Why are you doing this? she wanted to ask. Avery certainly isn’t going to love you for it.
But she said nothing. She stared into the fire instead, feeling the heat on her battered face, and she braced herself for yet another ordeal. Leah left the door ajar, and after a moment Caroline could hear her downstairs, then John Steigermann’s heavy treading up the steps to the second floor.
“Please, come in,” she said when he was about to knock on the door. She saw immediately that his wife stood behind him. Mrs. Steigermann was such a frail-looking woman, her fragility exaggerated by her husband’s great size.
John Steigermann motioned for his wife to precede him, and he gave her the only other chair in the room. He remained standing, towering over them both. He stared openly at the bruises on Caroline’s face. It was