Larken Read Online Free Page B

I’ve seen you in the altogether and saw nothing where it oughtn’t have been,” Nell said. “Quite the contrary, in fact.”
    “The scars,” Larken whispered. “No man wants to see that on his wedding night.”
    Nell’s eyebrows drew together. “Oh, Mrs. King, someone was very evil to tell you that. You’re a beautiful woman and it’s going to be a privilege to serve you. I’m just sorry you’re in this situation, since it pains you so.”
    “I suppose it wouldn’t have been so bad if Mr. King had just met my gaze or murmured a kind word. He made me feel like I was beneath his notice, hideously ugly, or both.”
    “You’re neither, and I don’t believe he was thinking about your feelings at all.”
    Larken glanced over at the wedding cake and sighed. “I don’t want to offend the cook, but I’m not going to eat that.”
    “To tell you the truth, nobody thought you would.” Nell stood and picked up the cake. “I’ll take it to the staff dining room and say you invited them to partake of your happiness.”
    Laughter broke through Larken’s tears. “Now I understand why the cake is so small.”
    Nell giggled. “You’ve a real quick wit about you, Mrs. King. Is there anything else you need?”
    “No, thank you. As one makes one’s bed, so one finds it, the saying goes. How long will Mr. King be away?”
    “Nobody can say for certain.”
    After Nell left with the cake, Larken went to her bedroom, washed her face, and pulled the rosebuds from her hair. She twirled one of the stems between her fingertips before tossing it onto the vanity with a frown. For good measure, she removed her wedding ring and threaded the plain gold band onto a candle sitting there. I hope Mr. King stays away for a good, long time.
    She changed from her Sunday best into her worst gown, the better to probe all the nooks and crannies of her velvet prison. Although she’d thought about leaving the worn garment behind, she had so few clothes that she’d decided to bring it anyway. Now she was glad she had, because exploring was likely to be dusty work. After she was dressed, she set about looking for furniture or art to brighten her sitting room. The first two bedchambers were decorated largely the same as the one she occupied. In the closet of the next, however, she was delighted to find a dusty old silk satin opera hat, which sprang open with a sharp movement of the wrist.
    “Lord Topper, your presence will brighten my misery considerably.”
    She dashed back to her sitting room and left the hat at the head of the table as a permanent guest. Somewhat cheered, Larken went off to see what other treasures were waiting to be discovered. A few knickknacks caught her eye, as well as a silk shawl draped over a dressing screen. A staircase at the end of the hall brought her into an attic storage area lit by several large dormer windows. Several trunks of old clothes looked promising. Paintings of various sizes were stacked against the wall, and Larken spent several pleasurable minutes examining a few of them. One painting featured two handsome young boys posing in blue velvet suits. The brass plate at the bottom read, “Theo and Brandon King.” Larken peered at both the boys’ faces, trying to decide which one was Brandon, but she gave up. Neither child resembled the large bear of a man she’d glimpsed in the chapel.
    A portrait of a handsome gentleman took her fancy, and she examined it more closely in the light from the window. A memory stirred within her as she admired the sheer beauty of his visage and splendor of his form.
    “You, sir, will definitely improve my view.”
    As if she were carrying a basket of eggs, she descended the stairs with the precious portrait and brought it into her sitting room. After some experimentation, she discovered a spot over the fireplace which would allow her to gaze into the man’s eyes wherever she stood. She climbed up on a chair, lifted the painting onto the mantle, and climbed back