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The Bachelor Meets His Match. Arlene JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Bachelor Meets His Match - Arlene  James


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two years later had brought Morgan and Brooks together again. To Hypatia’s knowledge, neither of them had been seriously involved with another woman since. Now here stood Morgan, hovering over delicate, dainty, big-eyed Simone as if he’d protect her from the whole wide world.

      “Magnolia, dear, would you ask for the tea tray?” Hypatia said, deciding that a bit of sustenance would do them all good with lunch still some time away. Despite giving her a sour look, Magnolia went off as asked. Their sister Odelia had accompanied her husband, Kent, on a visit to his great-grandbaby and their great-niece, Marie Ella, the daughter of Kent’s granddaughter Ellie and her husband, Asher Chatam, their nephew. They weren’t expected until after the normal luncheon hour, so the sisters had agreed to hold back the midday meal. Hypatia made small talk with Morgan until Magnolia returned to take a seat on the settee across the piecrust table from her.

      “Now, then, Morgan, Miss Guilland, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

      “We’ve just come from the hospital, Aunt Hypatia,” Morgan informed her, “and Brooks says that Simone must have rest, good nutrition and peace and quiet for at least two weeks, and preferably six.”

      “Oh, dear!” Magnolia exclaimed.

      “It’s a great deal of bother about nothing, I assure you,” Simone said quickly, sitting forward on her chair.

      Morgan sent the girl a quelling glance. “She fainted again.”

      “It was a busy morning. I’ve had a stressful week. Things will settle down.”

      “Her rooming house is one of those noisy, crowded conversions just off campus. One of those praise bands that plays at the campus chapel lives there. You know the sort.”

      Hypatia couldn’t help smiling, as God must smile whenever those young people lifted their raucous music in praise of Him. “I do indeed.” She looked to her sister then, understanding what was needed now. “I imagine they practice all hours of the day and night.” She looked to Simone, smiling. “It must be great fun, but you can’t be getting much sleep.”

      Simone opened her mouth as if to protest, but she obviously couldn’t deny the truth of the matter. Finally, she said, “I don’t want to impose on anyone.”

      Magnolia snorted. “Don’t be silly. We have ten bedrooms here, and that doesn’t include the carriage house, where the staff live. A quiet little thing like you will hardly be noticed. Our last guests were a lovely lady and her three children. Now, they made themselves known.”

      “And we grew so fond of them that we decided to keep them,” Hypatia added. “Our nephew Phillip married the lady, you see.”

      Simone ducked her head. “I heard that, yes.”

      Hypatia sent a twinkling glance at Magnolia. “I think the east suite is the most private, don’t you?”

      “A suite?” Simone yelped.

      Magnolia pursed her lips, obviously onto Hypatia’s little ploy. “I don’t suppose she has any use for two bedrooms, though,” Magnolia mused. “The bed-sit combo beneath the attic stairs ought to work just fine.”

      “Oh, yes,” Simone chimed in eagerly. “That sounds fine.”

      Hilda came in with the tea tray just then, allowing Hypatia to hide her smile of satisfaction. Simone seemed to shrink in on herself, but she perked up again after the tea was poured and Magnolia passed her a plate filled with finger sandwiches, cookies and Hilda’s famous ginger muffins. Simone nibbled at first, but once Morgan sat down next to Magnolia, filled a plate for himself and got to talking, Simone quickly ate everything on her plate and drained her cup without even realizing what she was doing. It was obvious to Hypatia that Simone hung on Morgan’s every word, as so many of his students did. Was a crush developing? When she sat back and swiped a hand across her brow, however, Hypatia felt a curl of a different kind of concern.

      “I think it’s time our new houseguest took a nice, long nap.”

      Morgan set aside his plate and rose at once. “Let us take you upstairs.”

      Simone nodded, a sign, to Hypatia’s mind, of just how weary and weak she was. The girl rose and walked toward the door, thanking Hypatia and Magnolia.

      “You’re very kind.”

      “It’s our pleasure to be kind,” Hypatia told her. Both she and Magnolia rose to follow along. “It’s just across the foyer and up the stairs.”

      “I—I don’t have anything with me,” Simone said as she crossed the parlor and then the foyer.

      “That’s quite all right,” Hypatia said. “I’ll be glad to loan you some things until you can pack your bags.”

      “I’m really not planning to stay for long,” she murmured at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the ceiling.

      “We’ll leave that to God, shall we?” Hypatia suggested gently, smiling at the blue sky, wafting clouds, fluttering white feathers and the suggestion of sunshine that the unknown artist had created on the vestibule ceiling overhead. She looked down in time to see Morgan nudge the girl, a hand under her elbow.

      Simone sucked in a deep breath and started to climb. After only four or five steps, she faltered, bowing and gulping for breath.

      “I’m sorry. I seem to be light-headed all the time lately.”

      She took another step and another, sinking lower with each one. Magnolia placed a hand on Hypatia’s arm, and the sisters traded glances.

      With the next step, Morgan swept Simone up into his arms.

      “I can walk,” she protested feebly. “Just give me a few minutes.”

      “Hush,” he told her, climbing the stairs steadily.

      Again, the sisters traded looks. Morgan was a scholar, a mature, disciplined, moral man with a strong calling, but a man, nonetheless, and very much a man, obviously.

      Simone looped an arm loosely about his neck as they made the turn in the staircase, but she didn’t seem to have the strength even to hold on. Her head lolled against his shoulder.

      “I’m so sorry,” she said in a husky voice. “I thought I could manage. I really did.”

      “Hush,” Morgan told her again. “Just relax.”

      “Pills,” she mumbled. “Must be the pills.”

      “Take her to her room,” Hypatia instructed as soon as they reached the landing. “I’ll meet you there in a moment.”

      Rushing to her own room in the suite that she shared with Magnolia at the front of the house, Hypatia grabbed a pair of her own pajamas and hurried across the upstairs to the combination sitting room and bedroom tucked beneath the attic stairs, overlooking the patio and pool. Morgan had set down Simone on the royal-blue velveteen sofa, his back to the curtained alcove where the four-poster bed stood. Magnolia sat beside her, patting her hand.

      “Let’s get you changed and into the bed,” Hypatia said, offering the tailored navy silk pajamas that she favored. “Morgan, will you stay in case we need you?” If Simone should faint again, Hypatia wasn’t sure that she and Magnolia together could get her into bed.

      “I’ll be just outside,” Morgan said.

      Hypatia and Magnolia helped Simone change from her jeans and T-shirt into the silk pajamas. The child was skin and bones. And scars. Magnolia clucked her tongue, but neither she nor Hypatia said a word. Hypatia’s heart bled for what she saw, however, for what she knew the child had been through. She had to button the top for Simone, and it hung on her, much too large. Nevertheless, it would have to do. After gently herding their new houseguest to the bed, Hypatia folded back the covers, and she and Magnolia aided as best they could while Simone laboriously climbed beneath the bedspread and top sheet.

      “Thank you,” she whispered, tears of sheer exhaustion


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