Always Read Online Free

Letrell.
    “ Mrs. Conner sure is a beauty.”
    “ That she is.” We both fell silent as I carefully nibbled on a corner of my toast. I didn’t want Aunt Dora to guess that my tongue was aching.
    “ It will be nice for you to have friends your own age.”
    “ Why? I’ll be leaving in just a few days.”
    I heard her soft sigh and instantly regretted my hasty words. “Being married will be better than you anticipate,” she promised.
    I sniffed quietly. “I hope that we can be happy–like you and Uncle Philip.”
    “ Being poor though,” she stopped talking and made a show of clearing her breakfast dishes.
    What was wrong with being poor? I wanted to question her, but instead I took a hesitant sip of my now cooled coffee.
    “ Shall we go to the parlor and practice your needle point?” she asked with a wiggle to her aged eyebrows.
    “ Ugh!” I groaned aloud.
     
    I carefully pushed the needle through the pale fabric. I had never enjoyed needlepoint and as a result, was never very good at it. Aunt Dora said that all young ladies should have some sort of hobby to fill their long days. I longed to take up watercolors, but Aunt Dora had insisted on needlepoint.
    The needle jabbed through easier than I expected and pricked my finger. A tiny drop of red blood appeared. I wiped it away very unladylike onto the side of my dress. “Ugh,” I grumbled when it didn’t stop bleeding right away. I put my injured finger into my mouth, but the taste of the blood made my stomach turn.
    I pushed the fabric off my lap with a scowl. It only stayed on the floor for a brief moment before I was bending to pick it up. With a heavy sigh, I began to rethread my needle with a dark red color.
    When the pattern was finished, it would be three red roses. When I had told Aunt Dora that the rose would represent my mother, my father, and me, she had wiped the tears from her eyes with a white lacy handkerchief.
    I was determined to make the pattern beautiful, so I had painstakingly stitched and restitched the roses. When the thread got all twisted up–again–I wasn’t able to hold back my growl of frustration. I would never be able to make three roses–maybe I should just do one.
    With another determined sigh, I quickly undid the few stitches I had managed to do that morning and began again. I was a few lines in when I heard footsteps outside the door. Who could that be? I looked to Aunt Dora, but she only shrugged.
    Becky stuck her head inside the door. “Mr. Letrell and the Conners are here to call, ma’am,” she announced.
    “ Send them right in,” she called gleefully.
    The trio stepped into the room before I had time to hide my needlework. “Good morning,” I greeted hastily.
    “ Miss Sinclair,” Marcus greeted only me, “how nice to see you again.” He situated himself gracefully across from me.
    After Becky served the tea, I fidgeted awkwardly for something to say. My heart hammered uncomfortably in my chest.
    “ So, um…have you just moved here, Mr. Letrell?” I asked with a small smile. I raised my cup to my mouth and sipped the hot liquid.
    “ Yes indeed. We just moved into the Larson Cottage.” He met my eyes easily.
    “ That’s a lovely home,” Aunt Dora offered happily.
    “ Sylvia has made some minor improvements and we’ve settled nicely.”
    “ What sort of improvements?” Aunt Dora directed her question to Mrs. Conner.
    “ We redecorated the parlor and a few other rooms,” she replied with a chuckle. “Miss Sinclair, I do hope we’ll be friends and you’ll come often to visit.”
    “ I…um…,” I fidgeted nervously. I couldn’t understand why I was reluctant to tell her that I would be married in a few days and then we’d be off to London. I didn’t want to admit that it was probably because of the way that Marcus was watching me.
    Aunt Dora took the burden of telling from me, though. “Claudia is getting married in a few days,” she gushed, oblivious to my discomfort.
    “ Oh, yes, we