The Sword Read Online Free

important,” Gerald insisted. He reached over and took her hands, and Flora was so startled she didn’t draw them back. “Miss Cooke—that is, may I call you Flora?”
    “No,” she said absently. The musicians were playing an allemande now, and Lieutenant Stuart, Flora saw, was dancing with her friend Leona Pruitt. Leona had a brilliant smile that lit up her face, and she was definitely bestowing that smile on the lieutenant. It distracted Flora much more than it should have.
    “What?” Gerald said, shocked. “But—why ever not? I’ve been calling on you for almost a month now.”
    With an effort, Flora turned her attention back to him. “Yes, I know, Mr. Small. You’ve been very attentive, and I enjoy your company. But just think, we have only known each other for less than a month. In fact, we hardly know each other at all, do we?”
    He blinked several times. “I thought we knew each other. We do know each other.”
    She sighed. “What is my favorite color?”
    He looked utterly blank.
    “Do I play any musical instruments?”
    Still the same uncomprehending stare.
    “And where, Mr. Small,” she continued, now gravely, “am I moving to, in just a little over one month, to make my social debut?”
    “I know this one,” he said desperately. “Philadelphia. You’re—oh, I see. You are leaving in a month, then.”
    “Yes.”
    He shook his head and took her hand again, though this time Flora resisted slightly. She didn’t want to vulgarly yank it away, however, so he held it and looked at her, his mild blue eyes suddenly filled with determination. Flora thought that it must be how he looked when he was about to close a business deal. “No, Fl—Miss Cooke. I think—I know that before then you will find that you want to stay here, with me.”
    “Please, Mr. Small, you are mistaken. I do appreciate your attentions, but I’m afraid you may have misunderstood mine.” Flora went on as reasonably as she could to try to convey that she was not at all interested in him, but the look on his face merely grew more closed and stubborn. “And so, you see that I am trying to make certain that you make no mistake concerning our—our—”
    “Miss Cooke,” Lieutenant Stuart said jovially, “finally! It is our waltz.” He held out his hand. Flora pulled away from Gerald, but he stood with her, looking up at Jeb Stuart.
    “I think you should know, Lieutenant,” he said with a definitesnobbish timbre to his voice, “that I have spoken to Colonel Cooke.”
    “Me, too,” Jeb said mildly. “He’s my commanding officer.”
    “No, I mean—what I mean is, I’ve spoken to him about Fl—Miss Cooke,” Gerald insisted.
    “Have you?” Jeb asked with interest. “I don’t blame you. I’d like to talk to people about Miss Cooke, too. But mostly I’d like to talk to her. So if you’ll excuse us, Mr. Small …”
    Again they left Gerald standing helplessly alone, confused and irritated.
    Jeb grinned down at her. His grin, and his laugh, were completely infectious. “Is he a lawyer or something?”
    Flora found herself smiling like a girlish idiot the entire time she talked with him. “No, he’s a businessman. Right now he’s opening a sawmill. He and his family already own a hotel and a flour mill.”
    “Is he rich?” Jeb asked.
    “I don’t know,” Flora answered carelessly. “It’s really no business of mine.”
    “That’s good,” Jeb said beaming. “So you’re not going to marry him then?”
    “What! Marry him? No, no, no. No, that’s just not possible,” Flora fumed.
    “No, it’s not,” Jeb agreed. “It’s not meant to be. That much is obvious.”
    “What are you talking about? You don’t know him. What am I saying? You don’t know me, either.”
    “But you just told me you’re not going to marry him.”
    “But that doesn’t mean it’s not meant to be,” Flora shot back.
    Jeb threw back his head and laughed. All around them people watched him, and they couldn’t help it;