Read Online A Bride Most Begrudging by Deeanne Gist - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Deeanne Gist
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onto one elbow and turned her attention to the land. A grand maple, shouldering back a prolific beech, craned its limbs over the creek at a gravity-defying angle. Flowers of all kinds and colors grew wild within the grove, their beauty rivaling many richly designed gardens and orchards back home.
Back home. Surely she’d be back home in less than six months. She sighed. Not so for Uncle Skelly. He would never make it home. Not subscribing to the king’s supremacy usually meant death. But because of Papa’s influence, Uncle Skelly’s sentence had been reduced to deportation. In the end, it hadn’t mattered.
Tears coursed unchecked down her cheeks. As a youngster in her aunt and uncle’s home, she had spent many a candle-lit evening advancing her prowess for mathematics under Uncle Skelly’s watchful eye. Only he had understood her insatiable zeal for numbers, for he was filled with a passion for numbers equal to her own. Or, at least, he had been. With big dreams and high hopes, he had seen to the editing of The Ladies’ Mathematical Diary every year. Even now hundreds of submissions from mathematically talented women throughout Europe would be arriving at Skelly’s home.
She’d given her uncle an oath that she would maintain the publication until his return. But he wouldn’t be returning. She knew he’d never expect her to fulfill such a promise under the circumstances. Still, she wanted to carry out her obligation. In his honor. For his honor.
Swiping at her tears, she strengthened her resolve. As long as she had a breath in her body, she would not rest until those submissions were answered. She would use her gift for mathematics so Skelly’s dream and Diary lived on. No matter the cost, she would survive in this land until her father came for her. She must.
A squirrel scampered across the clearing just a stone’s throw from her feet, then froze. Scrutinizing her with his unblinking stare, he twitched his tail, then spun around and darted up a young oak. She turned her head, watching him leap from the oak to a larger, more mature tree.
The young oak once again drew her interest. Here was something new and strong that had survived in this land. It was about ten yards in height and had a wispy ivy plant clinging to its trunk. The plant looked nothing like English ivy but instead held dainty tear-shaped leaves.
She was fascinated with the regularity in which the twining plant encircled the column. If the oak’s diameter at the top was, say, six inches and at the bottom one foot and the ivy twisted around the tree so that each twist was approximately ten inches apart, what would the length of the ivy be?
She studied the tender tree and its delicate vine. A soft breeze rustled its leaves and prompted a bird to take wing. She must set a quill to the question as soon as she returned to the cottage.
Burrowing down into her grassy mattress, she unwrapped the unusual smelling bread Mary had slipped her. Taking a bite, she marveled at its taste and texture. She had become so accustomed to the hard, chalky biscuit-bread of the ship that she nearly bit her tongue, so easily did her teeth sink into the bread. And then, by heavens, she needn’t even chew, for it immediately melted.
Closing her eyes, she took great delight in the bread, in the sounds around her, and in the sweet smell of God’s green earth. As had been the pattern for most of her life during moments of such exquisite pleasure, numbers danced in her head.
She pictured the young oak and its vine twisting its way to the top. If the hypotenuse line that the ivy moves around in equals z, and x equals the distance from the vertex to the top of the first turn—
The sound of the breakfast bell ringing across the countryside brought her back to the present. Finishing off the delectable bread, she stood, reached for both the drying towel and bucket, and headed back to the cottage.
————
Breakfast actually melted in his mouth. There wasn’t a
Back home. Surely she’d be back home in less than six months. She sighed. Not so for Uncle Skelly. He would never make it home. Not subscribing to the king’s supremacy usually meant death. But because of Papa’s influence, Uncle Skelly’s sentence had been reduced to deportation. In the end, it hadn’t mattered.
Tears coursed unchecked down her cheeks. As a youngster in her aunt and uncle’s home, she had spent many a candle-lit evening advancing her prowess for mathematics under Uncle Skelly’s watchful eye. Only he had understood her insatiable zeal for numbers, for he was filled with a passion for numbers equal to her own. Or, at least, he had been. With big dreams and high hopes, he had seen to the editing of The Ladies’ Mathematical Diary every year. Even now hundreds of submissions from mathematically talented women throughout Europe would be arriving at Skelly’s home.
She’d given her uncle an oath that she would maintain the publication until his return. But he wouldn’t be returning. She knew he’d never expect her to fulfill such a promise under the circumstances. Still, she wanted to carry out her obligation. In his honor. For his honor.
Swiping at her tears, she strengthened her resolve. As long as she had a breath in her body, she would not rest until those submissions were answered. She would use her gift for mathematics so Skelly’s dream and Diary lived on. No matter the cost, she would survive in this land until her father came for her. She must.
A squirrel scampered across the clearing just a stone’s throw from her feet, then froze. Scrutinizing her with his unblinking stare, he twitched his tail, then spun around and darted up a young oak. She turned her head, watching him leap from the oak to a larger, more mature tree.
The young oak once again drew her interest. Here was something new and strong that had survived in this land. It was about ten yards in height and had a wispy ivy plant clinging to its trunk. The plant looked nothing like English ivy but instead held dainty tear-shaped leaves.
She was fascinated with the regularity in which the twining plant encircled the column. If the oak’s diameter at the top was, say, six inches and at the bottom one foot and the ivy twisted around the tree so that each twist was approximately ten inches apart, what would the length of the ivy be?
She studied the tender tree and its delicate vine. A soft breeze rustled its leaves and prompted a bird to take wing. She must set a quill to the question as soon as she returned to the cottage.
Burrowing down into her grassy mattress, she unwrapped the unusual smelling bread Mary had slipped her. Taking a bite, she marveled at its taste and texture. She had become so accustomed to the hard, chalky biscuit-bread of the ship that she nearly bit her tongue, so easily did her teeth sink into the bread. And then, by heavens, she needn’t even chew, for it immediately melted.
Closing her eyes, she took great delight in the bread, in the sounds around her, and in the sweet smell of God’s green earth. As had been the pattern for most of her life during moments of such exquisite pleasure, numbers danced in her head.
She pictured the young oak and its vine twisting its way to the top. If the hypotenuse line that the ivy moves around in equals z, and x equals the distance from the vertex to the top of the first turn—
The sound of the breakfast bell ringing across the countryside brought her back to the present. Finishing off the delectable bread, she stood, reached for both the drying towel and bucket, and headed back to the cottage.
————
Breakfast actually melted in his mouth. There wasn’t a
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