Read Online Upon Your Return by Marie Lavender - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marie Lavender
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pat her friend's shoulder. “Get some rest, Fara. It will help. You look confused, and I'll bet I can guess the source of it. It's enough that we're meant to breed and play the socialites for men. Must they toy with our emotions as well?”
They laughed together and hugged again. When Helene turned away, Fara whispered, “ Merci, m'amie ,” and the lady smiled over her shoulder, winking at her in return before taking her leave.
But, even she knew Helene would not understand her reaction to being with Grant Hill. The girl was hardly experienced with gentlemen, and her friend had assumed that Monsieur Le Croíx’s deception was the only cause for Fara's perplexity. She began to wonder if anyone would ever truly understand her.
* * * *
That evening at dinner her uncle seemed to be concentrating on the veal set before them. His silence unnerved her. She wondered, while chewing on the meat, if he was still cross with her about spending a few moments with Grant Hill on his ship.
He cleared his throat after taking a sip of wine. “I have decided to invite this Monsieur Hill to dinner. Perhaps tomorrow.”
“What?” In attempt to hide the shock and the utter fear in her voice, she asked, “Why?”
“I want to meet this man who seems to have won your approval. I've asked that he join us for an evening repast. If he is a gentleman, as you so claim, then he will do well to honor my request.”
“I see. And what do you have to gain from this proposition, oncle ?”
“I wish to satisfy my curiosity about the man's intentions.”
“And if he dares to gaze at me overlong, what will you do?”
He tossed his head in a nonchalant manner. “I will do nothing, save consider him unfitting of a gentleman's stature.”
She gritted her teeth. Mon Dieu …all she'd ever wanted was an expression of concern, something to prove he really cared or wanted to protect her. And now he proposed to make sport out of playing the host at dinner. Did he have no feelings at all?
The dinner did not matter one bit really; it was obvious her uncle would never see Grant as anything other than a captain of a ship. He had already made up his mind about the man and the evening would be more or less a demonstration to her of Grant's lack of worthiness as a suitor. No matter what, her uncle would make sure there was a satisfactory outcome, at least on his side.
“If it is your wish, oncle ,” she said softly, silently daring him to see the despair in her eyes so she might glimpse some kind of human response within him. But given the years of absence when she was away at Cluny Abbey as well as his offishness in the past year, it was not likely to happen. Her uncle was an autocratic man, and he would not move to the most influential plea. She shook her head. She must yield to his wishes.
* * * *
While preparing for dinner with the help of her nursemaid, Fara heard commotion outside. She went to the window, easing back the curtain. From her vantage point, she could see a dark figure step out of a hackney right before the house. When the moonlight shone on the man's features, a thrill shot down her body as if she'd been touched. It was Capitaine Hill. He had arrived. She drew back from the window before he saw her. There was no sense in being improper in front of a guest.
As she was finishing her preparations, there were voices in the house. They definitely belonged to the male variety. It could only be her uncle speaking to Grant in the jovial way he addressed his guests. He was all too predictable, always kind yet reserved, never going out of his way to let someone know how he felt about a certain matter. He was the same with her, expecting propriety and nothing less. When he made less than savory comments, they were subtle yet pointed in such a way the undertones were hardly lost on the receiver, but nothing could be said in response because of her uncle's approach.
Dinner that night passed in a painfully quiet way. Never once did anyone
They laughed together and hugged again. When Helene turned away, Fara whispered, “ Merci, m'amie ,” and the lady smiled over her shoulder, winking at her in return before taking her leave.
But, even she knew Helene would not understand her reaction to being with Grant Hill. The girl was hardly experienced with gentlemen, and her friend had assumed that Monsieur Le Croíx’s deception was the only cause for Fara's perplexity. She began to wonder if anyone would ever truly understand her.
* * * *
That evening at dinner her uncle seemed to be concentrating on the veal set before them. His silence unnerved her. She wondered, while chewing on the meat, if he was still cross with her about spending a few moments with Grant Hill on his ship.
He cleared his throat after taking a sip of wine. “I have decided to invite this Monsieur Hill to dinner. Perhaps tomorrow.”
“What?” In attempt to hide the shock and the utter fear in her voice, she asked, “Why?”
“I want to meet this man who seems to have won your approval. I've asked that he join us for an evening repast. If he is a gentleman, as you so claim, then he will do well to honor my request.”
“I see. And what do you have to gain from this proposition, oncle ?”
“I wish to satisfy my curiosity about the man's intentions.”
“And if he dares to gaze at me overlong, what will you do?”
He tossed his head in a nonchalant manner. “I will do nothing, save consider him unfitting of a gentleman's stature.”
She gritted her teeth. Mon Dieu …all she'd ever wanted was an expression of concern, something to prove he really cared or wanted to protect her. And now he proposed to make sport out of playing the host at dinner. Did he have no feelings at all?
The dinner did not matter one bit really; it was obvious her uncle would never see Grant as anything other than a captain of a ship. He had already made up his mind about the man and the evening would be more or less a demonstration to her of Grant's lack of worthiness as a suitor. No matter what, her uncle would make sure there was a satisfactory outcome, at least on his side.
“If it is your wish, oncle ,” she said softly, silently daring him to see the despair in her eyes so she might glimpse some kind of human response within him. But given the years of absence when she was away at Cluny Abbey as well as his offishness in the past year, it was not likely to happen. Her uncle was an autocratic man, and he would not move to the most influential plea. She shook her head. She must yield to his wishes.
* * * *
While preparing for dinner with the help of her nursemaid, Fara heard commotion outside. She went to the window, easing back the curtain. From her vantage point, she could see a dark figure step out of a hackney right before the house. When the moonlight shone on the man's features, a thrill shot down her body as if she'd been touched. It was Capitaine Hill. He had arrived. She drew back from the window before he saw her. There was no sense in being improper in front of a guest.
As she was finishing her preparations, there were voices in the house. They definitely belonged to the male variety. It could only be her uncle speaking to Grant in the jovial way he addressed his guests. He was all too predictable, always kind yet reserved, never going out of his way to let someone know how he felt about a certain matter. He was the same with her, expecting propriety and nothing less. When he made less than savory comments, they were subtle yet pointed in such a way the undertones were hardly lost on the receiver, but nothing could be said in response because of her uncle's approach.
Dinner that night passed in a painfully quiet way. Never once did anyone
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