Read Online Angel in Scarlet by Jennifer Wilde - Free Book Online Page B

took a flat.
    I sighed, not wanting to think of the situation at home. Eppie looked at me intently with narrowed eyes, her mouth pursed.
    â€œYou know, Angie,” she said, “you really aren’t all that plain. I’ve been studyin’ you, tryin’ to figure it out.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œYou have something. All the boys notice you. There’s something about you that intrigues ’em. I’m not sure what it is.”
    â€œMy winning smile,” I suggested.
    â€œIf you weren’t so cool and standoffish, you could have your pick of ’em.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.”
    â€œOf course you’re too tall,” she continued, “almost as tall as I am. Your cheekbones are too high, and your eyes are that peculiar shade of gray with just a touch of violet. You’re too skinny and your legs are too long, but you’ve got glorious hair, so rich a brown, like gleaming chestnuts, so long and thick and glossy.”
    â€œGlad there’s something you like,” I said wryly.
    â€œYour mouth’s too wide, but it’s so deep a pink, a de lec table mouth the boys say. You’re not beautiful like Janine or Solonge, haven’t got the coloring, haven’t got the shape, but you’re strikin’, Angie.”
    â€œI’m plain as a mud fence and you know it.”
    â€œYou just think you are. Me, I know I look like a giddy maypole, but I never let it keep me from havin’ fun. Boys like all kinds of girls, and if you know how to flirt, know how to please ’em, they come flockin’ around in droves even if you do have a long neck and hair like a haystack.”
    â€œThere are more important things in life,” I informed her.
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œLike—like making something of yourself. Like learning.”
    Eppie raised her eyes heavenward and treated me to one of her exasperated sighs, clearly finding me beyond help. The only thing girls like Eppie needed to learn was how to attract boys, and she was already expert at that. She’d continue to play around and dispense favors with merry abandon and in a year or so, maybe less, she’d get into trouble and get married quickly and end up on a farm or in a tiny cottage with a loutish husband and a passel of kids and never know anything about the world out there. Or care. That was the sad part. I wanted more. I wanted to do something with my life, and me a female and plain to boot. It was ever so frustrating.
    Eppie sat up straight and gave me a sharp nudge, suddenly atremble with excitement. Startled out of my reverie, I looked up, frowning. Eppie nudged me again and pointed. To the right of the square a road led into the village, circling the square before turning into High Street. A man on a powerfully built chestnut stallion was slowly approaching the square. The horse’s sleek coat gleamed. The man in the saddle exuded virility and a casual, lazy confidence. Sunlight burnished his thick blond hair.
    â€œIt’s him!” Eppie whispered. “It’s Clinton Meredith!”
    I had to admit that his appearance was a remarkable event indeed. The Merediths eschewed the village, almost never coming here, sending a servant if they required anything from one of the shops. Constantly gossiped about but rarely seen, the Merediths held themselves aloof. Seeing Clinton Meredith in the village was like seeing a Royal Prince consorting with the commoners. I hadn’t laid eyes on him since that afternoon I had climbed over the wall and seen him wooing the beautiful Laura under the rose trellis, and though I was filled with curiosity about his sudden appearance, I refused to show it, assuming a bored, blase expression unlikely to fool anyone.
    â€œI wonder what he’s doing here?” Eppie exclaimed under her breath, too excited to speak in her normal voice.
    â€œWho cares?” I said blithely.
    â€œI’ll bet he’s on the prowl!