Facing the Light Read Online Free

salt-and-pepper others paid a fortune for in salons, and her skin was like ivory. Rilla longed to put her in burgundy and peacock and old gold, but Gwen wouldn’t hear of it. Perhaps all her poor brother-in-law had been looking for when he’d pursued other women during the early years of their marriage was a bit of colour. Rilla felt a pang of shame even thinking such a disloyal thought, but that didn’t stop it being at least a possibility. James Rivera, who’d probably started life as Jaime, was wasted on her sister. He was handsome and dashing and just Spanish enough to have an exotic surname, but educated in this country, so not foreign enough to scare the horses.
    She hardly ever thought about this any more, but in the old days one of the main items of family gossip, whenever two or three of them got together away from Willow Court, was, does Gwen know? Almost from the day her sister married, Rilla could tell James was unfaithful to her. He was always ‘up in London’, or ‘away for the night’, and there was the occasion, which Rilla had never spoken of to anyone, when she’d seen him and – what was her name? Milly? Molly? Something like that – one of the young girls employed to help with the children in any case, looking flushed and dishevelled, coming out of the gazebo holding hands with James. And he’d seen her seeing them. Milly, or Molly, didn’t lastlong after that. Gwen
must
know, Rilla thought. She can’t not know. How typical of her to say nothing. Rocking the boat was not her thing. Her stoicism appeared to have paid off. Nowadays, James seemed to be as good as gold, though he was rather too fond of alcohol, and Rilla had often noticed her sister’s worried frown and pursed lips as her husband helped himself to yet another drink. Order, that’s what Gwen was interested in. Order and the Walsh Collection. Thank heavens Leonora had at least one of her daughters to carry on after she’d gone. Being stuck in that enormous pile surrounded by more spooky pictures than you can shake a stick at was Rilla’s idea of hell.
    And then she was there, at Willow Court. The wrought-iron gates were standing open. The leaves of the scarlet oaks leading up to the house were still green. Rilla’s mouth suddenly felt dry. She slowed the car right down. She knew that Leonora and Gwen would have been looking out for her and would be waiting for her on the front steps, and sure enough, there they were, like figures in a tableau. She could see them from quite a long way away: Leonora upright and self-possessed, standing one step above Gwen. Rilla stopped the car and got out as elegantly as she could, conscious of her mother’s eyes on her. She ran up the steps to kiss her sister.
    â€˜Darling,’ she said, and threw her arms around Gwen, suddenly filled with affection. Perhaps she ought to make more effort to see Gwen on her own. Maybe she should invite her up to London to stay? ‘How super to see you! I’m early, aren’t I? Hardly any traffic at all, amazingly enough.’
    She went up to the next level to embrace her mother.
    â€˜Rilla!’ Leonora was smiling, but she stood quite still as her younger daughter kissed her. Powder smelling like icing sugar, Rilla thought, and soft skin, and somewherein her core something that doesn’t want to bend, to relax. Something frozen.
    â€˜Mother, you look wonderful. As usual.’ And it was true. Leonora’s skin was hardly wrinkled at all, and her green eyes undimmed, it seemed. As for the bone structure, well, as Ivan was forever telling her, there was no better basis for beauty than good bones. Rilla knew that any bones she had were rather too well covered, and she waited for her mother to make some sort of allusion to any weight she might have put on since the last time, but no, on this occasion Leonora said only, ‘You look lovely, too, Rilla darling. It’s