Read Online An Unsuitable Bride by Jane Feather - Free Book Online

this, but she had understood that somehow she and Sylvia were responsible for their mother’s frequent absences and their father’s growing distance. From that moment, she and her sister had become all and everything to eachother, sharing confidences, hopes, and fears, trusting only each other.
    Alexandra sighed and reached for her quill again. She had heard that sometimes when a limb was lost, the person felt it aching like a phantom limb. Her sister’s absence from her life was just like that. Sometimes she caught herself turning to say something, share some thought, only to realize that there was no one there. If she could just spend an hour with Sylvia now and again, she wouldn’t mind the loneliness the rest of the time, but her sister was a day’s journey away in the neighboring county, and there was no way Alex could engineer such an absence, let alone find a way to get there.
    Letters were their only means of communication, and Sylvia was a faithful correspondent, but they had both agreed that it would be too dangerous for her to write about anything except the most innocuous subjects in any letter coming into Combe Abbey. Alex would have dearly loved her sister’s advice, her sympathetic ear, her delicious sense of humor, which would make light of some of the trials and tribulations of this charade. But Sylvia allowed herself only the most oblique and seemingly anodyne comments. Alex took her own letters to the post herself, so she had greater freedom of expression. No one in the house knew to whom her letters were addressed. Letters coming into the house were left in plain sight on the table in the great hall to be picked up by the intended recipient,and while it was far-fetched to imagine anyone breaking the seal on something addressed to the librarian, the risk was not worth taking.
    Restless, Alex got up from the desk. She couldn’t concentrate on her work. A brisk stroll along the cliff path would refresh her mind, concentrate her thoughts properly. She went up to her chamber for her hooded cloak and gloves and took the backstairs to the kitchen. Preparations for dinner were in full swing, and no one acknowledged the almost insubstantial presence of the librarian. She was so self-effacing, so reluctant to draw attention to herself, that over the months, she had succeeded in moving around the house almost as if she was invisible. Now she let herself out the back door into the kitchen garden and took the path to the gate in the brick wall that led to the side path.
    The wind was quite brisk, and she was glad of her cloak as she took a narrow alley between rows of fruit trees in the orchard and from there to the cliff top.
    She walked for half an hour, enjoying the fresh air, the buffeting wind, the white-capped waves beyond the horseshoe entrance to the calmer waters of the cove. She had often swum in the cove in the summer. Even on the hottest days, the water had been chilly, and Sylvia had remained huddled in a blanket on the beach, enviously watching her sister. Sea bathing was forbidden the invalid, as was any exercise more strenuous than a sedate trot in the pony cart. Alex loved to gallop but had forced herself to keep her pony to a walk besidethe cart when Sylvia took an outing. No one really knew what ailed Sylvia, but it was decided that she had a weak chest and a less than robust heart. It was true that she tired easily and often developed a persistent cough that could last most of the winter, but Alex often wondered if the strict precautions were really necessary. Sylvia certainly chafed against them.
    After a while, she turned back towards the house, this time taking the main driveway up through the grounds. She was just passing the Dower House when her stepbrother and his guest rounded the corner of the drive in front of her on their way back to the Dower House.
    “Good morning, Mistress Hathaway.” Marcus swept off his hat with an elaborate flourish as he bowed. “Well met. Have you been