Banished Love Read Online Free Page B

intently.
    I paled and began to feel light-headed. I wished I could let out my corset and take a deep breath.
    “Rissa, if you see him, you need to tell us,” Colin admonished. “You shouldn’t have to speak with him, not after what he did.”
    Da grunted in agreement.
    “Is that wise, dear?” Mrs. Smythe asked, looking me up and down.
    I frowned defensively, not imagining she could take offense with my current attire, a satin lilac evening dress.
    “If a man is interested in you, I’d hate to think you would turn him away due to a minor lapse of judgment.”
    I gritted my teeth at an angry retort, breathing heavily. “I believe my brothers, Da and I know best when it comes to Cameron,” I replied, nearly choking on his name.
    “Aye, you do, Clarissa,” Da replied. “You remember now, any trouble from him, you send word to us. We’ll be there in no time.”
    I nodded my agreement.
    “May I be excused, Da?” I asked. I had no desire to listen further to Mrs. Smythe nor had any appetite for the remainder of my supper.
    ***
    I ENTERED MY ROOM, closing the door to the sounds of Da and Colin settling in for their cribbage match in the second-floor family parlor. I leaned against the door for a moment, allowing the calm colors of my bedroom to soothe me. The walls were decorated in blue-and-white wallpaper with a flowing bird-and-flower motif. I pushed away from the door, moving toward my four-poster bed, reaching for the pile of pillows to rearrange them. I fluffed one before moving on to the chaise positioned in front of the windows, to the right of the bed. I sat for a moment, looking out into the darkened back garden and skeletonlike tree limbs.
    A quick knock heralded my maid’s expected arrival, and I moved behind the privacy screen, to the right of the door. After freeing myself from layers of petticoats, corsets and my chemise, I slipped into a comfortable nightgown and wrap. I emerged from the privacy screen as Mary left my bedroom. I wandered along the opposite side of my room to the tall maple dresser to stare at one of the few pictures I had of Mama. A piece of lace covered the top of the dresser, one of my mama’s school projects. I fingered a few of the seashells I had collected with Mama the last time we had gone to the beach together. “Oh, Mama,” I whispered, trying not to cry. “I wish you were here.”
    I scrubbed away the tears as I faced the dark mahogany vanity, which had also been my mama’s. I collapsed onto the stool, pulling out compartments on either side of the mirror to place within my earrings, bracelets and hairpins. Every time I stared into the long mirror, I imagined my mama looking into the mirror and felt closer to her.
    I sat on the stool in front of the vanity, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My long chestnut-brown hair, freed from its pins, cascaded down my back in waves. I had an oval, almost round face, with high cheekbones and lips that appeared turned up at the corners as though always on the verge of smiling. My almond-shaped light blue eyes reflected my inner turmoil.
    I remembered the first time I had met Cameron at one of Aunt Betsy’s functions in Quincy. I had decided to visit her to raise my spirits after my mama had died. While there, Aunt Betsy had held a party in my honor. She and Uncle Tobias were of the highest social class. One of their friends’ sons, Cameron Wright, had been coerced into attending the soiree. He had stood aloof to one side of the room, dispassionately studying those present while appearing formal and stiff-necked. Even so, I had felt an instant interest in him.
    That night, for one of the first times since the death of my mama, I felt my spirit lighten. I gaily joined in conversations with a large group of fascinating guests. After a few lengthy, lively discussions, Cameron strolled toward my group and joined in. I cannot remember what was said, yet I remember feeling a thrill of energy race through my body to be near him. I