Read Online Kate: A Universal Truth (A Wish for Love Series Book 1) by Mia Shales - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mia Shales
Ads: Link
are different. You must marry someone of your own class as did your father and grandfather before you. Gabriella’s family possesses great riches and property and her parents are part of the king's inner circle. A union of the two families will mean unimaginable wealth. It will be the most talked about wedding in Europe.”
Matthew gazed at his grandmother. Eighty-one, thin and bony, she still wore mourning for her dead husband. Her skin was dusky and her face wrinkled. She had aged much in the ten years since his grandfather's death, he thought, but her black eyes were as penetrating as he remembered from his boyhood.
“Out of the question,” he retorted, focusing his eyes on hers, “forget it. I don't intend to marry Gabriella or anyone else you might choose.”
They looked at each other like boxers in the ring.
“We'll see about that,” she muttered, “we'll see.”
He opened the envelope and began to read the crowded lines written in black ink. His grandmother announced that she intended to come on Friday, in three weeks time, accompanied by Gabriella, for a visit of four weeks at Bellewoodplain.
He cursed. She never gave up. He pitied Gabriella. He had last seen her one and a half years ago. Frail, delicate and outwardly shy she was in truth appallingly spoiled and hysterical, given to unexpected temper tantrums. He could not imagine himself in bed with her, let alone spending eternity in her company. Even the thought was unforgivable. He had no wish to hurt Gabriella but if his grandmother had stuffed her head full of fantasies of marriage to him she would be greatly disappointed. Even if he was incapable of falling in love he intended to marry someone who could at least be his friend, a smart and interesting woman, someone he could respect and be proud of.
He thought again of Kate. Yes, someone like Kate!
On Monday he had picked up the receiver, this time from his London apartment and dialed the number that was imprinted on his memory. Only on the eighth ring was there an answer at the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Matthew Camedon speaking.”
“Matthew, what a surprise, I came home just this minute, how are you?” Hearing the ring from the hallway, Emma had run up the stairs to reach the telephone on time.
“I'm fine and you?”
“Wonderful. We're impatiently waiting for our visit to Bellewoodplain. Has something gone wrong?” Emma asked uneasily.
“No, no, of course not. I'm delighted we'll be seeing each other and am looking forward to your coming. I wanted to talk to Kate. Is she there?”
“Kate? No. She's gone to London for a few days. Can I give you her cell phone number?”
“No. I'll speak to her at Bellewoodplain on Friday.”
After a few polite exchanges he hanged up. She might be in London with a man. The mere notion made him feel a piercing pain - the same pain that shot through his heart at the party when he saw her laughing with John, talking with Lindsay and dancing in the arms of other men. No! He was wise not to get in touch with her. In less than a week he would see her at Bellewoodplain.
Comfortably ensconced in a large armchair in Margaret's apartment in Chelsea, Kate looked out on the Thames through the large windows. Yellow silk taffeta curtains enabled shafts of the sun's rays to light up the tasteful and cheerful room.
Kate was in high spirits and after chatting on unimportant matters the two women got ready for the concert. Margaret led Kate to her bedroom, still holding the half-filled coffee cup she had not yet finished drinking.
“What do you think of this?” Margaret whisked a silk knee legnth skirt and a matching blouse out of the closet.
“Ravishing. Put it on and then I'll give you the benefit of my expert opinion.”
While Margaret took off her bathrobe, Kate removed the dress she intended to wear from her bag. It was very simple and Kate was aware it would
Matthew gazed at his grandmother. Eighty-one, thin and bony, she still wore mourning for her dead husband. Her skin was dusky and her face wrinkled. She had aged much in the ten years since his grandfather's death, he thought, but her black eyes were as penetrating as he remembered from his boyhood.
“Out of the question,” he retorted, focusing his eyes on hers, “forget it. I don't intend to marry Gabriella or anyone else you might choose.”
They looked at each other like boxers in the ring.
“We'll see about that,” she muttered, “we'll see.”
He opened the envelope and began to read the crowded lines written in black ink. His grandmother announced that she intended to come on Friday, in three weeks time, accompanied by Gabriella, for a visit of four weeks at Bellewoodplain.
He cursed. She never gave up. He pitied Gabriella. He had last seen her one and a half years ago. Frail, delicate and outwardly shy she was in truth appallingly spoiled and hysterical, given to unexpected temper tantrums. He could not imagine himself in bed with her, let alone spending eternity in her company. Even the thought was unforgivable. He had no wish to hurt Gabriella but if his grandmother had stuffed her head full of fantasies of marriage to him she would be greatly disappointed. Even if he was incapable of falling in love he intended to marry someone who could at least be his friend, a smart and interesting woman, someone he could respect and be proud of.
He thought again of Kate. Yes, someone like Kate!
On Monday he had picked up the receiver, this time from his London apartment and dialed the number that was imprinted on his memory. Only on the eighth ring was there an answer at the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Matthew Camedon speaking.”
“Matthew, what a surprise, I came home just this minute, how are you?” Hearing the ring from the hallway, Emma had run up the stairs to reach the telephone on time.
“I'm fine and you?”
“Wonderful. We're impatiently waiting for our visit to Bellewoodplain. Has something gone wrong?” Emma asked uneasily.
“No, no, of course not. I'm delighted we'll be seeing each other and am looking forward to your coming. I wanted to talk to Kate. Is she there?”
“Kate? No. She's gone to London for a few days. Can I give you her cell phone number?”
“No. I'll speak to her at Bellewoodplain on Friday.”
After a few polite exchanges he hanged up. She might be in London with a man. The mere notion made him feel a piercing pain - the same pain that shot through his heart at the party when he saw her laughing with John, talking with Lindsay and dancing in the arms of other men. No! He was wise not to get in touch with her. In less than a week he would see her at Bellewoodplain.
Comfortably ensconced in a large armchair in Margaret's apartment in Chelsea, Kate looked out on the Thames through the large windows. Yellow silk taffeta curtains enabled shafts of the sun's rays to light up the tasteful and cheerful room.
Kate was in high spirits and after chatting on unimportant matters the two women got ready for the concert. Margaret led Kate to her bedroom, still holding the half-filled coffee cup she had not yet finished drinking.
“What do you think of this?” Margaret whisked a silk knee legnth skirt and a matching blouse out of the closet.
“Ravishing. Put it on and then I'll give you the benefit of my expert opinion.”
While Margaret took off her bathrobe, Kate removed the dress she intended to wear from her bag. It was very simple and Kate was aware it would
Similar Books
