Read Online Scoundrel of Dunborough by Margaret Moore - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Margaret Moore
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when she was a child, it had been nearly impossible to make Celeste change her mind. Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to allow her to put herself in danger by staying in that house alone at night. Too many people believed there was a fortune hidden somewhere inside.
“Serve the meal,” he ordered, putting his cloak on again. “I’ll be back soon with Sister Augustine.”
Whether she wants to come or not.
* * *
With a sigh, Celeste sank onto the bed in the upper chamber lit by a flickering oil lamp. She hadn’t found anything in this room, either. She’d checked all the chests and boxes for hidden compartments and even looked in the rafters overhead. When she’d taken time to make a stew, she’d searched on and under the shelves in the larder again, sneezing from the dust, while the ginger cat stared at her as only a cat can.
She was beginning to believe Audrey hadn’t found their father’s hidden hoard. Surely if she had, she wouldn’t have been indebted, unless she’d spent the entire fortune on fine clothes and furnishings. Audrey had often said a woman had to look wealthy to attract a wealthy husband.
Celeste gazed again at the beautiful embroidered gown of scarlet silk that lay on top of the large open chest. It was, without doubt, the loveliest gown she had ever seen, and likely cost more than many a man earned in a year.
But even so, and despite the other costly garments, Audrey couldn’t have spent
all
their father’s wealth on clothing. From what he had said, the treasure would have paid for a hundred costly garments and more besides.
It was, unfortunately, more likely that Audrey
hadn’t
found the cache and that’s why she was indebted. Their father wouldn’t have made it easy to find his treasure, not for anyone. Celeste hoped that she could find it, and that when she did, there would be enough to pay all Audrey’s debts. Whatever remained, together with the sale of the house, as well as Audrey’s gowns and jewelry, she would give to the church, as she had intended.
It had to be so. She couldn’t wait forever to take her final vows and begin a life of calm and quiet service. As long as the mother superior who detested her was in charge of Saint Agatha’s, Celeste might never see that day.
Removing her veil, cap and wimple, she shook out her hair. It would be cut again the day she took those vows, but she wouldn’t regret it. She’d lost her hair once before and that had taken her to the peace of the convent.
She wondered what Gerrard would say if she told him she was actually grateful for what he’d done, then dismissed the notion. She didn’t want to speak to him at all.
She went to Audrey’s dressing table to get the comb, then paused and reached for the brush. As she ran it over her scalp, she sighed with pleasure at the sensation.
It had to be nearly as sinful as that kiss, she realized, putting the brush down quickly. She grabbed the comb and worked it through her thick and curling hair.
The beautifully embroidered red gown caught her eye again. Audrey must have looked so regal in it, to no avail now.
Poor Audrey. So ambitious, so determined to be rich and titled, even if that meant a loveless marriage. All marriages were no better than a bargain made in the market, she would say, and she intended to get the most for what she had to offer. She had felt that way ever since a rich woman had called her a common brat for getting mud on her gown. Celeste would never forget Audrey’s angry, humiliated tears, or her defiance and determination as she vowed “to marry well, or never!”
With another sigh Celeste put the comb beside the looking glass and began to undress. She took off the scapula and then her plain leather belt so that the tunic gathered at her neck hung straight to the floor. After removing her tunic, she untied the rough linen underskirt and stepped out of it. Wearing only her shift, she was ready to sleep, once she’d said her prayers.
Before she knelt at
“Serve the meal,” he ordered, putting his cloak on again. “I’ll be back soon with Sister Augustine.”
Whether she wants to come or not.
* * *
With a sigh, Celeste sank onto the bed in the upper chamber lit by a flickering oil lamp. She hadn’t found anything in this room, either. She’d checked all the chests and boxes for hidden compartments and even looked in the rafters overhead. When she’d taken time to make a stew, she’d searched on and under the shelves in the larder again, sneezing from the dust, while the ginger cat stared at her as only a cat can.
She was beginning to believe Audrey hadn’t found their father’s hidden hoard. Surely if she had, she wouldn’t have been indebted, unless she’d spent the entire fortune on fine clothes and furnishings. Audrey had often said a woman had to look wealthy to attract a wealthy husband.
Celeste gazed again at the beautiful embroidered gown of scarlet silk that lay on top of the large open chest. It was, without doubt, the loveliest gown she had ever seen, and likely cost more than many a man earned in a year.
But even so, and despite the other costly garments, Audrey couldn’t have spent
all
their father’s wealth on clothing. From what he had said, the treasure would have paid for a hundred costly garments and more besides.
It was, unfortunately, more likely that Audrey
hadn’t
found the cache and that’s why she was indebted. Their father wouldn’t have made it easy to find his treasure, not for anyone. Celeste hoped that she could find it, and that when she did, there would be enough to pay all Audrey’s debts. Whatever remained, together with the sale of the house, as well as Audrey’s gowns and jewelry, she would give to the church, as she had intended.
It had to be so. She couldn’t wait forever to take her final vows and begin a life of calm and quiet service. As long as the mother superior who detested her was in charge of Saint Agatha’s, Celeste might never see that day.
Removing her veil, cap and wimple, she shook out her hair. It would be cut again the day she took those vows, but she wouldn’t regret it. She’d lost her hair once before and that had taken her to the peace of the convent.
She wondered what Gerrard would say if she told him she was actually grateful for what he’d done, then dismissed the notion. She didn’t want to speak to him at all.
She went to Audrey’s dressing table to get the comb, then paused and reached for the brush. As she ran it over her scalp, she sighed with pleasure at the sensation.
It had to be nearly as sinful as that kiss, she realized, putting the brush down quickly. She grabbed the comb and worked it through her thick and curling hair.
The beautifully embroidered red gown caught her eye again. Audrey must have looked so regal in it, to no avail now.
Poor Audrey. So ambitious, so determined to be rich and titled, even if that meant a loveless marriage. All marriages were no better than a bargain made in the market, she would say, and she intended to get the most for what she had to offer. She had felt that way ever since a rich woman had called her a common brat for getting mud on her gown. Celeste would never forget Audrey’s angry, humiliated tears, or her defiance and determination as she vowed “to marry well, or never!”
With another sigh Celeste put the comb beside the looking glass and began to undress. She took off the scapula and then her plain leather belt so that the tunic gathered at her neck hung straight to the floor. After removing her tunic, she untied the rough linen underskirt and stepped out of it. Wearing only her shift, she was ready to sleep, once she’d said her prayers.
Before she knelt at
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