Read Online A Cantata of Love (The Code Breakers 4) by Jacki Delecki - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jacki Delecki
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Historical, Action & Adventure, Adult, series, Regency, England, romantic suspense, French, 19th century, Bachelor, Victorian, Britain, Protection, Forever Love, Single Woman, englishman, Hearts Desire, international intrigue, London Society, Subterfuge, Code Breakers, Napoleonic France, Young Woman Disguised, Leg Injury, Clandestine Assignment
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they had never been introduced. Gabby curtsied. “My lady.” She would remember this white-haired, doughty woman dressed in bright fuchsia with orange piping, who made quite a dramatic statement with her élan in color choices.
Breaking all rules of polite society, the woman put her arm around her shoulder and led Gabby into a warm, cozy lady’s parlor. “Come along.”
The smallish room was overflowing with flowered drapes and upholstery that assaulted the eye with their boldness and ghastly mismatch of colors, much like the lady in front of her.
Gabby quickly checked to make sure her mouth was closed and her face betrayed none of the disorienting surprise she was feeling.
“I can see by your reaction that you weren’t informed of my presence. I’m Aunt Euphemia.”
The warm room was like a furnace blast for her chilled body and her shocked state. Gabby unbuttoned her pelisse, basking in the heat. The woman closed the door. As a guest of the house, Gabby didn’t feel she could refuse to take tea with the family’s aunt.
Gabby placed her pelisse on the back of a chair and waited.
The older woman marched ahead to the settee in front of the fire. She gestured to Gabby toward the tea tray placed on the table. “You must eat a little even though you don’t feel like it. I find a warm, buttery crumpet is quite the thing to settle an upset stomach and mood.”
Gabby moved from behind her chair toward the table. “Yes, my lady.”
“Tut, tut. None of that.” The lady took Gabby’s cold hands into her own. “You must call me Aunt Euphemia.”
Gabby had been taught to respect her elders; she would never be rude to the lady. But call this stranger ‘aunt’?
“You’ve had a rough time of it.” Her rheumy eyes searched Gabby’s face. “Too much loss for someone so young.”
Had they shared her personal news with everyone in the household?
Aunt Euphemia led Gabby to the settee. “You needn’t worry that you must converse. The benefits of my age…no need for silly chitchat on such a horrendous day.” She adjusted her orange turban which was adorned with nesting birds and which had fallen over one eye. “We will not speak of your brother or your pain today. Come sit. We’ll do nothing but sit together in front of the fire. I find the rainy weather chills my bones.”
Gabby sat erect on the corner of the settee, her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap. Aunt Euphemia plopped down next to Gabby and leaned against the back of the settee, her legs splayed out in front of her. “In my sitting room, I don’t hold to polite manners or polite conversation.”
Gabby had no idea how to respond to such a claim. Already feeling off kilter, she could only nod.
The warmth of the fire penetrated through her damp walking dress. The only sound in the small, toasty room was the ticking of the ormolu clock that looked very similar to the one that had been her grandmother’s sitting room. A peaceful contentment settled into Gabby from the strange woman’s presence. She felt none of the cloying pity or the invasive scrutiny from those wondering how a child her age was handling the murder of her parents. Or now how she was dealing with the news of her brother.
Aunt Euphemia bent over the tray filled with biscuits, breads, cheeses, meats, and fruit. The tray had enough food to feed ten people. Gabby hoped the entire family wasn’t going to appear for tea. She couldn’t face making conversation. But she didn’t want to be by herself—dreading to be alone with her thoughts.
“I believe the tea is ready. Shall I serve you?” Aunt Euphemia asked in French. “Do you prefer I speak to you in French?”
“Thank you, but I’m fine with English.”
“Why don’t you make your own plate while I tend to the tea? Would you prefer chocolate? Shall I ring for chocolate?”
“We always drank chocolate in the morning.” Gabby surprised herself by sharing a moment of her past.
“It is the same with me. I
Breaking all rules of polite society, the woman put her arm around her shoulder and led Gabby into a warm, cozy lady’s parlor. “Come along.”
The smallish room was overflowing with flowered drapes and upholstery that assaulted the eye with their boldness and ghastly mismatch of colors, much like the lady in front of her.
Gabby quickly checked to make sure her mouth was closed and her face betrayed none of the disorienting surprise she was feeling.
“I can see by your reaction that you weren’t informed of my presence. I’m Aunt Euphemia.”
The warm room was like a furnace blast for her chilled body and her shocked state. Gabby unbuttoned her pelisse, basking in the heat. The woman closed the door. As a guest of the house, Gabby didn’t feel she could refuse to take tea with the family’s aunt.
Gabby placed her pelisse on the back of a chair and waited.
The older woman marched ahead to the settee in front of the fire. She gestured to Gabby toward the tea tray placed on the table. “You must eat a little even though you don’t feel like it. I find a warm, buttery crumpet is quite the thing to settle an upset stomach and mood.”
Gabby moved from behind her chair toward the table. “Yes, my lady.”
“Tut, tut. None of that.” The lady took Gabby’s cold hands into her own. “You must call me Aunt Euphemia.”
Gabby had been taught to respect her elders; she would never be rude to the lady. But call this stranger ‘aunt’?
“You’ve had a rough time of it.” Her rheumy eyes searched Gabby’s face. “Too much loss for someone so young.”
Had they shared her personal news with everyone in the household?
Aunt Euphemia led Gabby to the settee. “You needn’t worry that you must converse. The benefits of my age…no need for silly chitchat on such a horrendous day.” She adjusted her orange turban which was adorned with nesting birds and which had fallen over one eye. “We will not speak of your brother or your pain today. Come sit. We’ll do nothing but sit together in front of the fire. I find the rainy weather chills my bones.”
Gabby sat erect on the corner of the settee, her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap. Aunt Euphemia plopped down next to Gabby and leaned against the back of the settee, her legs splayed out in front of her. “In my sitting room, I don’t hold to polite manners or polite conversation.”
Gabby had no idea how to respond to such a claim. Already feeling off kilter, she could only nod.
The warmth of the fire penetrated through her damp walking dress. The only sound in the small, toasty room was the ticking of the ormolu clock that looked very similar to the one that had been her grandmother’s sitting room. A peaceful contentment settled into Gabby from the strange woman’s presence. She felt none of the cloying pity or the invasive scrutiny from those wondering how a child her age was handling the murder of her parents. Or now how she was dealing with the news of her brother.
Aunt Euphemia bent over the tray filled with biscuits, breads, cheeses, meats, and fruit. The tray had enough food to feed ten people. Gabby hoped the entire family wasn’t going to appear for tea. She couldn’t face making conversation. But she didn’t want to be by herself—dreading to be alone with her thoughts.
“I believe the tea is ready. Shall I serve you?” Aunt Euphemia asked in French. “Do you prefer I speak to you in French?”
“Thank you, but I’m fine with English.”
“Why don’t you make your own plate while I tend to the tea? Would you prefer chocolate? Shall I ring for chocolate?”
“We always drank chocolate in the morning.” Gabby surprised herself by sharing a moment of her past.
“It is the same with me. I
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