River Queen Read Online Free

Preston, any way that I can help you, please let me know.”
    Charles turned and came to stand in front of his desk, and Gates rose. “Thank you, Preston, but you’ve been very helpful already, I realize.” He straightened up and stuck out his hand, and Gates shook it heartily.
    “The papers will be ready tomorrow, Charles. And the money, of course,” Gates said. “Just drop by to see me any time.”
    Charles nodded and went to the door. “You’re a good friend, Preston. I thank the Lord for you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

CHAPTER TWO

    Julienne stood on a footstool in her bedroom. Sitting on the floor, her mother squinted as she sewed one of the bottom ruffles of Julienne’s ball gown. “Now, Julienne, how in the world did this get torn again? Tyla said something about Carley.”
    “That little monkey was prancing around, pretending to dance with me, and she stepped on the ruffle and it tore,” Julienne answered.
    Seated in the corner, rubbing one of Julienne’s gloves vigorously with sparkling mineral water, Tyla muttered, “And she got black licorice all over your gloves. That child is as wild as a wood squirrel.”
    “Oh, it’s just a spot. I know you can get it out, Tyla,” Julienne said carelessly.
    “Julienne, you did not buy her black licorice again,” Roseann said with distress. “You know how I hate that candy. It makes her teeth and fingers all black.”
    “It’s the only kind she likes, Mother. Besides, you didn’t see her with black teeth, did you?”
    “No, but just because she hides from me and Leah after she eats it doesn’t make it any better,” Roseann said. “I just don’t know what to do with her, she doesn’t pay attention to a word I say.” With an impatient gesture she pushed back a lock of red-gold hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. Now forty-nine years old, she retained a youthful beauty, with her fine complexion and abundant red-gold hair. She was a small-framed woman, very feminine and fragile-looking.
    “Are you all right, Mother?” Julienne asked. “If you’re tired please let Tyla finish.”
    “No, no, I’m just finishing now.” She put in two tiny lock stitches, then fluffed out the ruffle. “There. Not a stitch shows,” she said proudly. Roseann was an excellent seamstress and enjoyed all kinds of needlework. With an effort she tried to get up, but Tyla hurried to help her rise.
    Stepping down from the stool, Julienne made a little turn and mock curtsey to her mother. “Thank you so much, Mother. Isn’t this dress just absolutely delicious? It’s the newest fashion from France.”
    Roseann looked a little doubtful. “It is a wonderful fabric, dearest. That particular bright blue becomes you. But I’m a little confused about the bodice.”
    “Your shimmy is showing,” Tyla said sturdily. “I’m not so sure French ladies are as proper as they should be.”
    The dress was a smoky blue satin, with such a high gloss that it shimmered brightly in the light. The skirt was wide, of course, with eight tightly gathered flounces, the bottom one (the one that Carley had stepped on) was eight inches long and swept the floor gracefully. Off-the-shoulder, with a low neckline, the bodice was long and pointed, with four cutouts of graduated lengths down past the waist, bordered by satin ruching. Underneath Julienne wore a creamy white satin plain blouse.
    “This is called a chemisette, Tyla, and it’s made to fit underneath the bodice of the dress,” Julienne said. “It’s supposed to show.”
    “It’s a shimmy,” Tyla repeated with emphasis, “and shimmy’s aren’t supposed to show.”
    “Oh, dear,” Roseann said softly.
    Julienne hugged her. “Don’t listen to Tyla, Mother, believe me, I know what ladies of quality are wearing these days. Now why don’t you go on downstairs and wait for me in the parlor. As soon as I’m all done, I’ll come down and you can see that I’m perfectly respectable.”
    “I would like some tea,” Roseann