Read Online Hannah: Daughters of the Sea #1 by Kathryn Lasky - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathryn Lasky
Tags: Fiction
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Daze sighed as she unpacked one of the servant boxes. “Well, I guess that’s you now,” she said, and put the small figure up in the room on the top floor. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Hannah was caught aback. She looked at the servant figure dressed in the same rough-woven skirt that she had been wearing earlier, with an apron that even had smudges of coal dust. “I do sort of mind, Daze. Could we change her a bit?”
“Good idea! We have spare uniforms. We’ll just put her in an afternoon upstairs one and, you know, I have a great idea.” Daze jumped up and went to a cabinet with paper, paints, and brushes. “Dotty had blond hair. It will be easy to dye her hair with some of these India ink paints and make it red like yours.”
The girls fussed with the doll for nearly a quarter of an hour. “Look at her!” Daze said, propping the doll against a miniature coal scuttle. “Pretty good job, eh?”
“Very good. Thanks,” Hannah said and began to reach for another box.
“Don’t touch that!” Daze blurted as Hannah started to lift the lid from the box that was labeled LILA’S BEDROOM . Hannah’s hand froze above the lid. “Nobody is allowed to touch or clean the furniture for Lila’s room in the dollhouse. She even has a little china cat that looks just like Jade in it.”
“All right,” Hannah said. “What about the other girls’ rooms?”
By two o’clock they had finished and Hannah had changed back into her scullery clothes and been sent to clean the grates and lay the fires in the first-floor rooms.
Now she walked into a room she had never been in before. As soon as she entered, she stood very still. Hannah recognized it as the music room. Daze had arranged its furniture in the dollhouse version. There was a grand piano and across from it, beside two very tall glass-paned doors that looked out on a garden, stood a harp. Hannah set down her scuttle of coals and kindling. The colored strings, the shapelycontours, the very gleam of the harp’s wood drew her. She had never seen a harp before except in pictures. There was not another soul in the room and the harp stood solitary in a shaft of morning light. Although there was no player, Hannah sensed a stirring in its strings. But how could this be? The harp was untouched, and yet Hannah could feel or almost hear a quivering of fragile sound, like a melody waiting to breathe.
Suddenly Hannah sensed another presence in the room. She wheeled about and found herself facing a tall young man with thick black hair and eyes the color of emeralds. She gasped.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Hawley?” But he was much too young to be the master of the house.
“Hardly!” The man laughed. “I’m Stannish Wheeler.”
“The portrait painter?” She almost whispered the words. She was suddenly very nervous and could not meet those emerald eyes. It was as if they emanated a current.
“Yes, the portrait painter.” He cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes as if to study her. He took a step closer, a pulse twitched in his temple, and the color drained from his face. Hannah was alarmed. What is he seeing? He looked as if he might faint.
“Sir, are you…are you well?” She reached out her hand as if to steady him, but he immediately took a step back and she felt herself blush furiously. Stupid! Stupid! How stupid of me . He was a big, tall, healthy man. Why would she ever think he was going to faint?
He shook his head slightly and seemed to regain his composure. “Nothing is wrong, nothing at all. It’s just that…”
His voice dwindled off, but he continued to stare at her as if he were searching for something. The scarlet tide of her blushing had receded, but her heart was pounding, and her mouth felt dry. Please, leave , she prayed silently. Just leave!
She picked up her feather duster and began to sweep around the fireplace, although it was quiteclean. “The family is not here yet. Not expected until
Hannah was caught aback. She looked at the servant figure dressed in the same rough-woven skirt that she had been wearing earlier, with an apron that even had smudges of coal dust. “I do sort of mind, Daze. Could we change her a bit?”
“Good idea! We have spare uniforms. We’ll just put her in an afternoon upstairs one and, you know, I have a great idea.” Daze jumped up and went to a cabinet with paper, paints, and brushes. “Dotty had blond hair. It will be easy to dye her hair with some of these India ink paints and make it red like yours.”
The girls fussed with the doll for nearly a quarter of an hour. “Look at her!” Daze said, propping the doll against a miniature coal scuttle. “Pretty good job, eh?”
“Very good. Thanks,” Hannah said and began to reach for another box.
“Don’t touch that!” Daze blurted as Hannah started to lift the lid from the box that was labeled LILA’S BEDROOM . Hannah’s hand froze above the lid. “Nobody is allowed to touch or clean the furniture for Lila’s room in the dollhouse. She even has a little china cat that looks just like Jade in it.”
“All right,” Hannah said. “What about the other girls’ rooms?”
By two o’clock they had finished and Hannah had changed back into her scullery clothes and been sent to clean the grates and lay the fires in the first-floor rooms.
Now she walked into a room she had never been in before. As soon as she entered, she stood very still. Hannah recognized it as the music room. Daze had arranged its furniture in the dollhouse version. There was a grand piano and across from it, beside two very tall glass-paned doors that looked out on a garden, stood a harp. Hannah set down her scuttle of coals and kindling. The colored strings, the shapelycontours, the very gleam of the harp’s wood drew her. She had never seen a harp before except in pictures. There was not another soul in the room and the harp stood solitary in a shaft of morning light. Although there was no player, Hannah sensed a stirring in its strings. But how could this be? The harp was untouched, and yet Hannah could feel or almost hear a quivering of fragile sound, like a melody waiting to breathe.
Suddenly Hannah sensed another presence in the room. She wheeled about and found herself facing a tall young man with thick black hair and eyes the color of emeralds. She gasped.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Hawley?” But he was much too young to be the master of the house.
“Hardly!” The man laughed. “I’m Stannish Wheeler.”
“The portrait painter?” She almost whispered the words. She was suddenly very nervous and could not meet those emerald eyes. It was as if they emanated a current.
“Yes, the portrait painter.” He cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes as if to study her. He took a step closer, a pulse twitched in his temple, and the color drained from his face. Hannah was alarmed. What is he seeing? He looked as if he might faint.
“Sir, are you…are you well?” She reached out her hand as if to steady him, but he immediately took a step back and she felt herself blush furiously. Stupid! Stupid! How stupid of me . He was a big, tall, healthy man. Why would she ever think he was going to faint?
He shook his head slightly and seemed to regain his composure. “Nothing is wrong, nothing at all. It’s just that…”
His voice dwindled off, but he continued to stare at her as if he were searching for something. The scarlet tide of her blushing had receded, but her heart was pounding, and her mouth felt dry. Please, leave , she prayed silently. Just leave!
She picked up her feather duster and began to sweep around the fireplace, although it was quiteclean. “The family is not here yet. Not expected until
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