Read Online Kat, Incorrigible by Stephanie Burgis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephanie Burgis
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would have a month’s respite from his proposals. I didn’t think she’d appreciate it if I pointed that out right now, though.
Stepmama came last and sighed as she settled herself beside me. Dozens of bandboxes and valises were already tied precariously to the top of the carriage, but our housekeeper, Mrs. Watkins, had to push several more underneath our feet and on top of our laps before Stepmama finally declared us ready to leave.
Mrs. Watkins shoved the door closed on our mountain of parcels, and with a crack of the whip, Squire Briggs’s coachman started the horses off. The carriage rattled and shook us all the way down the drive and onto the winding main road.
As I peered back through the narrow carriage window, I saw Frederick Carlyle staring after us from the branches of the oak tree, as heartbroken as a lost puppy. From a distance—from far enough away that you couldn’t see the blankness in his eyes—he really did look quite handsome. My lips twitched.
As I turned back from the window, my gaze crossed Angeline’s. She’d been looking back at Mr. Carlyle too. Her eyes sparkled; for a moment, I thought we were about to share a conspiratorial smile.
Then her expression smoothed back into disdain, and she looked pointedly away.
I scowled and scrunched myself tighter into my corner, letting my head bang against the hard wooden panels of the carriage as it rattled down the road. We were on our way to Grantham Abbey.
As the hours passed and we drove deeper and deeper into the Dales, the landscape grew harsher and bleaker around us. In our house, and in our comfortable little village, despite how hilly it was, you could almost forget that we lived in Yorkshire. But the Dales were different. Wild. Dangerous. As massive, craggy hills rose high before us and a rocky chasm opened up beside the road, I managed to forget Stepmama’s never-ending voice rising and falling beside me and even my sisters’ simmering disapproval. A hawk soared over our carriage, letting out a high, piercing cry of defiance, and I wanted to jump out of the window and fly with it. When the carriage finally took a steep descent into a wooded valley, I had to bite down on disappointment.
But we drove deeper and deeper into the rolling, wooded valley, and I realized that it was just as wild and untamed as the barren hills above it. The thick woods made a dark, whispering wall to our left, full of secrets. A roaring river swept past us on our right, powerful enough to carry us all away.
Stepmama said, “There must be dreadful flooding every year. They shouldn’t build these roads so close to the water. Really, it only takes a little common sense….”
I hunched my shoulder away from her and kept my gaze on the rushing, foam-scudded river just outside my window. I wondered if it would ever be safe to swim in it … or, if not, how dangerous it would really be.
Elissa gasped and pointed out the window. “Is that it?”
I tore my gaze away from the river to look where she was pointing. Gothic stone arches rose in the distance, high above the trees.
“Grantham Abbey,” Stepmama said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “My second cousin, on my mother’s side, will be our hostess. Lady Graves. She was fortunate enough to catch the eye of Sir John Graves after only one season in Town, and her sisters …”
I tried to ignore the rest of her lecture on the many fine connections her family had made. But I twitched when I caught her saying to Elissa, “… because they knew what was due to their family, who had taken care of them all those years without reward.”
“Happiness, you mean?” I said, and turned around. “Maybe what was really due to their family was for them to make happy matches to men they truly cared for, so that their family could be happy for them.” I narrowed my eyes at Stepmama in an imitation of Angeline’s classic, most threatening look. “And that’s exactly what their family wanted from them. Not
Stepmama came last and sighed as she settled herself beside me. Dozens of bandboxes and valises were already tied precariously to the top of the carriage, but our housekeeper, Mrs. Watkins, had to push several more underneath our feet and on top of our laps before Stepmama finally declared us ready to leave.
Mrs. Watkins shoved the door closed on our mountain of parcels, and with a crack of the whip, Squire Briggs’s coachman started the horses off. The carriage rattled and shook us all the way down the drive and onto the winding main road.
As I peered back through the narrow carriage window, I saw Frederick Carlyle staring after us from the branches of the oak tree, as heartbroken as a lost puppy. From a distance—from far enough away that you couldn’t see the blankness in his eyes—he really did look quite handsome. My lips twitched.
As I turned back from the window, my gaze crossed Angeline’s. She’d been looking back at Mr. Carlyle too. Her eyes sparkled; for a moment, I thought we were about to share a conspiratorial smile.
Then her expression smoothed back into disdain, and she looked pointedly away.
I scowled and scrunched myself tighter into my corner, letting my head bang against the hard wooden panels of the carriage as it rattled down the road. We were on our way to Grantham Abbey.
As the hours passed and we drove deeper and deeper into the Dales, the landscape grew harsher and bleaker around us. In our house, and in our comfortable little village, despite how hilly it was, you could almost forget that we lived in Yorkshire. But the Dales were different. Wild. Dangerous. As massive, craggy hills rose high before us and a rocky chasm opened up beside the road, I managed to forget Stepmama’s never-ending voice rising and falling beside me and even my sisters’ simmering disapproval. A hawk soared over our carriage, letting out a high, piercing cry of defiance, and I wanted to jump out of the window and fly with it. When the carriage finally took a steep descent into a wooded valley, I had to bite down on disappointment.
But we drove deeper and deeper into the rolling, wooded valley, and I realized that it was just as wild and untamed as the barren hills above it. The thick woods made a dark, whispering wall to our left, full of secrets. A roaring river swept past us on our right, powerful enough to carry us all away.
Stepmama said, “There must be dreadful flooding every year. They shouldn’t build these roads so close to the water. Really, it only takes a little common sense….”
I hunched my shoulder away from her and kept my gaze on the rushing, foam-scudded river just outside my window. I wondered if it would ever be safe to swim in it … or, if not, how dangerous it would really be.
Elissa gasped and pointed out the window. “Is that it?”
I tore my gaze away from the river to look where she was pointing. Gothic stone arches rose in the distance, high above the trees.
“Grantham Abbey,” Stepmama said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “My second cousin, on my mother’s side, will be our hostess. Lady Graves. She was fortunate enough to catch the eye of Sir John Graves after only one season in Town, and her sisters …”
I tried to ignore the rest of her lecture on the many fine connections her family had made. But I twitched when I caught her saying to Elissa, “… because they knew what was due to their family, who had taken care of them all those years without reward.”
“Happiness, you mean?” I said, and turned around. “Maybe what was really due to their family was for them to make happy matches to men they truly cared for, so that their family could be happy for them.” I narrowed my eyes at Stepmama in an imitation of Angeline’s classic, most threatening look. “And that’s exactly what their family wanted from them. Not
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