Read Online Maggie's Journey (McKenna's Daughters) by Lena Dooley Nelson - Free Book Online
Authors: Lena Dooley Nelson
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about her. “Yes. You know how I like it.”
The girl picked up the china teapot and poured the fragrant beverage into the matching cup. After stirring in one teaspoon of sugar until it dissolved, she added a teaspoon of milk. “Here you are. Do you want me to get out that pretty green dress you had Mrs. Murdock hem?”
Maggie took a sip of the tea, the warmth only slightly settling the cold dread in her belly. “Yes.”
She probably should fortify herself for Florence’s reaction to her wearing the dress. Without a doubt, her adopted mother wouldn’t like the fact that she’d countermanded her own directions to Mrs. Murdock.
While Ingrid retrieved the gown from the wardrobe, she kept talking. “And how will you be wanting your hair styled? Should I put most of it up and form a few long curls to drape over your shoulder in front? If I wind the matching ribbon through your style and accent it with some beads, you’ll look like a princess.”
A princess? Wouldn’t it be interesting if she really were a princess? She shook her head. Not much chance of that. No one would give away a princess . Maybe she was the daughter of a pauper. Was that why Angus McKenna gave away his daughter? He was too poor to take care of her.
“That sounds like a good idea.” Maggie picked up a sandwich and took a bite while Ingrid collected her silk undergarments.
The first taste teased Maggie’s appetite, so she finished the piece and picked up another.
“Grandma will be pleased you decided to eat, for sure.” Ingrid arranged the hair ornaments on the dressing table beside the silver brush, comb, and mirror.
“I didn’t realize how hungry I really was until I took the first bite. Be sure to thank her for providing just what I needed . . . once again.” Maggie dropped into the chair beside the table so she could eat the rest of the delicious food. She hoped it would fortify her for the evening and all it would bring.
Why didn’t Florence notice what she needed? Maggie wasn’t really selfish or vain, was she? But shouldn’t a parent want what was best for their child, no matter how they acquired the infant? Had she only been a plaything that Florence tired of before she grew up? Her thoughts over the last days had proven torturous. But she saw no way to find out without actually asking her parents. And she wasn’t ready to do that.
Before Ingrid finished arranging Maggie’s hair, a quick knock on the door interrupted them. “Margaret, can I come in?” Her mother’s younger sister called through the door.
“Of course you can.” Maggie twisted on the dressing stool and watched Aunt Georgia enter and close the door. She loved her aunt. Having her in the house would serve as a buffer between Maggie and Florence. “When did you arrive?”
“Not very long ago.” Georgia wrapped her arms around Maggie and kissed her cheek. “I told Florence to let me surprise you after I cleaned up from traveling. The train was late leaving Portland, and I was afraid I’d miss your party altogether.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Maggie clung to her for another long moment before letting go, relishing the hug and the love it represented. But would Georgia feel differently when the truth came out?
Georgia moved to the side, so Ingrid could continue with her ministrations. “Are you all right, dear?”
Maggie stared at her aunt, noticing her sleek dark hair pulled into a figure-eight bun on her nape, so different from Maggie’s own wild, almost-untamable curls. “We’ve just been very busy getting ready for the party.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. They had been busy, but her words didn’t answer the question. Maybe Aunt Georgia wouldn’t notice.
Her aunt gave a quick nod, then sat on the edge of the bed. “So where did you get that dress? It’s not one you designed, is it?”
Should Maggie tell her? The truth couldn’t hurt. “I found it in the attic. I remembered you saying Mother had brought along some of the
The girl picked up the china teapot and poured the fragrant beverage into the matching cup. After stirring in one teaspoon of sugar until it dissolved, she added a teaspoon of milk. “Here you are. Do you want me to get out that pretty green dress you had Mrs. Murdock hem?”
Maggie took a sip of the tea, the warmth only slightly settling the cold dread in her belly. “Yes.”
She probably should fortify herself for Florence’s reaction to her wearing the dress. Without a doubt, her adopted mother wouldn’t like the fact that she’d countermanded her own directions to Mrs. Murdock.
While Ingrid retrieved the gown from the wardrobe, she kept talking. “And how will you be wanting your hair styled? Should I put most of it up and form a few long curls to drape over your shoulder in front? If I wind the matching ribbon through your style and accent it with some beads, you’ll look like a princess.”
A princess? Wouldn’t it be interesting if she really were a princess? She shook her head. Not much chance of that. No one would give away a princess . Maybe she was the daughter of a pauper. Was that why Angus McKenna gave away his daughter? He was too poor to take care of her.
“That sounds like a good idea.” Maggie picked up a sandwich and took a bite while Ingrid collected her silk undergarments.
The first taste teased Maggie’s appetite, so she finished the piece and picked up another.
“Grandma will be pleased you decided to eat, for sure.” Ingrid arranged the hair ornaments on the dressing table beside the silver brush, comb, and mirror.
“I didn’t realize how hungry I really was until I took the first bite. Be sure to thank her for providing just what I needed . . . once again.” Maggie dropped into the chair beside the table so she could eat the rest of the delicious food. She hoped it would fortify her for the evening and all it would bring.
Why didn’t Florence notice what she needed? Maggie wasn’t really selfish or vain, was she? But shouldn’t a parent want what was best for their child, no matter how they acquired the infant? Had she only been a plaything that Florence tired of before she grew up? Her thoughts over the last days had proven torturous. But she saw no way to find out without actually asking her parents. And she wasn’t ready to do that.
Before Ingrid finished arranging Maggie’s hair, a quick knock on the door interrupted them. “Margaret, can I come in?” Her mother’s younger sister called through the door.
“Of course you can.” Maggie twisted on the dressing stool and watched Aunt Georgia enter and close the door. She loved her aunt. Having her in the house would serve as a buffer between Maggie and Florence. “When did you arrive?”
“Not very long ago.” Georgia wrapped her arms around Maggie and kissed her cheek. “I told Florence to let me surprise you after I cleaned up from traveling. The train was late leaving Portland, and I was afraid I’d miss your party altogether.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Maggie clung to her for another long moment before letting go, relishing the hug and the love it represented. But would Georgia feel differently when the truth came out?
Georgia moved to the side, so Ingrid could continue with her ministrations. “Are you all right, dear?”
Maggie stared at her aunt, noticing her sleek dark hair pulled into a figure-eight bun on her nape, so different from Maggie’s own wild, almost-untamable curls. “We’ve just been very busy getting ready for the party.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. They had been busy, but her words didn’t answer the question. Maybe Aunt Georgia wouldn’t notice.
Her aunt gave a quick nod, then sat on the edge of the bed. “So where did you get that dress? It’s not one you designed, is it?”
Should Maggie tell her? The truth couldn’t hurt. “I found it in the attic. I remembered you saying Mother had brought along some of the
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