An Impossible Attraction. Brenda JoyceЧитать онлайн книгу.
I should love it if you joined me, Miss Bolton—with your sisters, of course.”
Alexandra’s first reaction was sheer surprise; then, instantly, she thought of her sisters, who had never been to a high-society fete. Her mind raced. Of course she must accept. This would be a wonderful opportunity for her sisters—and the kind of evening they deserved, and should have had and become accustomed to. But neither Alexandra nor her sisters had had a new gown since before their mother died. While the sad truth was that no one invited them out, due to their circumstances, even if someone had, they did not have the proper attire to attend most social functions.
Corey could fit into one of her old ball gowns, with some slight alterations. And surely they could find something for Olivia to wear from among their mother’s clothes. They would be sadly out of fashion, but they would be able to attend.
“We would love to attend,” she said quickly.
Edgemont looked carefully at her. Alexandra knew he was wondering how they would find the proper clothing. “Father, I was hoping to walk with the squire outside, as the sun has come out and all chance of further rain is gone.”
His eyes widened, and he beamed. Then, “I’ll be in the study. Enjoy your walk.” He walked out, leaving the door wide-open.
Alexandra stared at the threshold until he was gone. Then she faced her suitor. “Squire Denney, I am very flattered that you have called.”
“A rainstorm could not have kept me away.”
“Is it possible to have a very frank discussion?”
His eyes widened. “I so prefer candor. It is one of the things I like best about you, Miss Bolton, after your excessively kind nature. You are always direct.”
She turned. “I fear you have put me high upon a pedestal, a stature I do not deserve.”
His brows lifted. “If any woman deserves to be placed upon a pedestal, Miss Bolton, it is you.” When she began to speak, he interrupted. “I have admired you for years. You have taken wonderful care of your sisters and father, and such selflessness and compassion is to be commended. And then, of course, there is your beauty. I am practically speechless, in fact, to be standing here with you now.”
Alexandra almost blushed. She was hardly a raving beauty, but she would not dispute him. “I am glad you find my nature pleasing. And you are right about one thing—I try very hard to take good care of my younger sisters as well as my father. Olivia is only eighteen, Corey just sixteen.”
A slight bewilderment crossed his bluff face. “They are lovely young ladies.”
She gestured at a chair, deciding to forgo their walk. He sat, and she took the adjacent seat, then clasped her hands in her lap. “I was on the verge of marriage nine years ago, before my mother passed on. When my mother died, I made the decision to devote myself to my family—and I broke things off with my suitor.” She smiled firmly. There was some old sadness, thinking of Owen and their dreams now. “I promised her that I would take care of this family. I made a serious commitment to the care and welfare of my sisters and my father.”
“The commitment you are speaking of only heightens my admiration for you, Miss Bolton.” He hesitated. “I have the impression that you loved this gentleman.”
She nodded. “Yes, I did.”
“You are a paragon, Miss Bolton. But why are you telling me this?”
“How direct might I be?” She sat up straighter.
“As direct as is necessary.” He flushed, suddenly seeming dismayed. “Are you about to tell me that you remain committed to the deathbed vows you made to your mother?”
“I will look after my sisters and my father until I die—although I hope my sisters will be wed well before that day.” She smiled.
He slowly nodded. “I see. My intentions are honorable, Miss Bolton.”
“That is what Edgemont indicated.”
He held her gaze. “Do you know why I suggested your sisters accompany us tomorrow night?”
She shook her head. “Not really.”
“Because it seemed to me that it would make the evening more pleasant for you—less awkward—but it also seemed to me that two such young ladies should be given the opportunity to get out and be seen.”
Her heart sped. “That is so kind of you.”
“I consider myself a kind man—and a generous one. If my suit progresses as I hope it does, you will not have to carry the burden of caring for your family by yourself.”
Alexandra gasped. Tears came to her eyes. She was speechless.
But now she knew. He had means, his suit was a serious one, and he would be generous with her family.
“I have admired you for years, Miss Bolton—from afar, and very respectfully.” He spoke thoughtfully now. “I never dreamed my wife would die so suddenly—she was in such good health until her final illness. I mourned her deeply.” He paused, grim for a moment. “But she has died, and a year has gone by. You remain unattached—which bewilders me.” He met her gaze. “I am of a very solid character, Miss Bolton. I am a dependable and honorable man. I am certain things will work out to both our satisfaction, if you give my suit a chance.”
“I will give your suit all the respect and consideration it deserves,” she somehow said. She could barely believe this was happening. Her sisters were going to have futures outside of Edgemont Way. It seemed like a miracle.
He stood, as she did. “Shall we walk outside?”
Alexandra took his proffered arm. “It will be my pleasure to stroll with you,” she said.
But as they left the house, she glanced over her shoulder. Corey and Olivia were standing in the doorway, their expressions grim with dismay. Then Corey turned and stormed into the house.
ALEXANDRA TENSED as the squire’s brougham queued up in the circular drive before Harrington Hall. It was a beautiful evening, and the sky was stained pink above the high gray stone roof of the mansion, with fingers of pink and peach drifting across the magnificent gardens and grounds. A fountain stood in the center of the drive, its waterworks a lavish display, bursting a dozen feet into the air. But she was exhausted, having stayed up the entire night to finish repairing and restoring dresses for herself and her sisters. In fact, she’d been sewing without interruption since Squire Denney had left her yesterday afternoon.
Of course she was tense, not excited, now. And her tension escalated. She, Olivia and Corey sat facing backward, toward her father and Denney, so she had to crane her neck to look outside. The coaches ahead were large, luxurious broughams, with perfectly matching horses and liveried coachmen, and the gentlemen and ladies alighting were in the finest tails and ball gowns. Even in the dusk, Alexandra saw jewels glinting from the ladies’ throats and ears, and from the gentlemen’s hands. She’d almost forgotten how wealthy the peerage was. She looked down at her bare fingers, her green satin gown. The fabric should have shone, but it had been hanging in the closet for too many years. No one wore dresses with full sleeves above the elbow anymore, but there had not been enough time to alter her own dress—she’d altered the sleeves on Olivia’s and Corey’s gowns, instead. Her skirts were too full for the current style, as well. At least, she thought grimly, her gown still fit.
“That is a beautiful dress,” the squire said, clearing his throat.
Had he read her thoughts? Was she being transparent? She somehow managed to smile at him. His eyes had been shining yet again when he’d arrived to pick them up and escort them to Harrington Hall. Alexandra did not think she looked well—she was pale from her efforts to properly garb her sisters, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. He hadn’t noticed, obviously. And maybe he didn’t see how old—and old-fashioned—her dress truly was.
Olivia took her hand. Her eyes were sparkling with the kind of excitement