To love and to honor Read Online Free

was having a brain storm, had recommended Armstrong when she had asked him the name of a Maine lawyer. He had advised her to have the divorce put through in her home state, he should be an authority, he had had two. If she were in a rush, he would suggest Reno.
    Not in that much of a rush, she told herself as she fastened her hair at the neck with a long silver arrow. Neither was Ken Stewart, apparently. Months ago she

    had written him she had been advised that an annulment of the marriage now would in no way threaten their inheritance, would he co-operate?
    He not only would but with bells on, he had cabled. Go to it. He wasn't even interested to see what the girl he had married was like. Not too bad, she decided as she critically inspected her reflection in the long mirror. The leaf-green cotton taffeta frock, with the soft yellow velvet ribbon belt into which she had tucked a few calendulas, brought out the sheen of her hair and the brown of her eyes, the golden tan of her skin.
    "He'll never know what a charmer he lost, will he, gal?" she queried aloud and wrinkled her nose in self-derision at the looking-glass girl. "Hal Harding appreciates you, lady."
    Her eyes shadowed, her smile vanished. Hal was terribly likable, but he was making life difficult. He had waylaid her in the village this morning to tell her that he was planning a gala outdoor roast at his place, on the day her annulment was granted, to celebrate her freedom. Darn. Everyone in town had known of what they called "the proxy marriage," now talk of the annulment was crowding the air waves.
    "I don't want a celebration," she protested under her breath as she went slowly down the stairs. "It's a poisonous idea to make whoopee over a broken marriage, even if it's only a written contract like mine. I won't stand for it."
    Seth Armstrong rose and came forward with pudgy hand outstretched in greeting when she entered the patio. He was neither so short, bald nor stout as she had imagined him from Sary's description. A little bouncy, but nice manners. A boutonniere of deep blue bachelor buttons adorned the lapel of his expertly tailored gray sports coat, his white trousers were immaculate and creased to perfection, his eyes were pale, but keen, his voice was a trifle unctuous, the waxen whiteness of his plump hands was accentuated by a huge sardonyx ring. The big seal on the bracelet man's finger had seemed to belong; for some remote reason that on Armstrong's

    seemed out of character. Not especially attractive, but trustworthy, she decided.
    "At last we meet, Mrs. Stewart, It is a pleasure I have long anticipated. I haven't seen you since you were little Cindy CHnton."
    Mrs. Stewart. It was a shock to hear the name again. Since her return to The Castle two months ago she had been Cindy Clinton to neighbors and friends.
    "Thank you, Mr. Armstrong. I am afraid I have given you a lot of trouble by asking you to come here, but I am eager to get this annulment business behind me. I hope you drink tea?"
    She seated herself at the glass-top table which held the antique Sheffield tray with its equipment of silver and Lowestoft and the hot-water kettle spouting pearly steam. He drew a chair beside her. She wondered if his thoughts were as large and smooth as his white hands.
    "Certainly I drink tea." He had a curious habit of inflating and deflating his cheeks before speaking. "My secretary serves it for me in my New York office each afternoon at four. Lovely place you have made of this spot between the two slanting ells,"
    Cindy's eyes followed his as they traveled round the enclosure, open on the fourth side to a superb view of the ocean. A velvety lawn was broken in the center by a small pool carpeted by green pads and pink and white lilies between which flashed an occasional streak of gold. The spray from a small fountain shot up into the sunshine, glittered like yellow diamonds before it dropped back. Beyond that a putting green extended almost to the shore.
    Against