Read Online Written in the Stars by Patricia Rosemoor, Sherrill Bodine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Rosemoor, Sherrill Bodine
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won’t be thanking me for it.”
Elizabeth smiled, knowing the sisterly rivalry which existed between them.
Suddenly at her side, Carlyle stiffened, frowning down at Elizabeth’s empty hand.
“Where is your nosegay?”
Feigning surprise and distress, Elizabeth glanced around. “I must have dropped it
making my way through the crowd.” In way of an apology, she clutched his arm, holding
it to her side. “The fair is as wondrous as Laurel promised. Shall we continue?”
He stared down at her for two thumps of her heart before he smiled, shifting so their
bodies touched more firmly. “Yes. The dancing is ahead.”
Tom took possession of the rattle as far as the next booth, where they were met by
the delicious aroma of cinnamon, figs, and ginger.
“Granny Cybil swears sucking on pieces of ginger aids digestion,” Alice declared and
promptly bought a bag of it.
Heroically, Tom also bore that parcel, a bundle of lace, and two sets of playing cards,
one of which Alice planned to send back to Wharton Keep, along with the annoying rattle.
Watching Alice’s progress though the fair lightened Elizabeth’s heavy heart, making
it possible for her to smile and to not cringe away when Carlyle touched her shoulder
or their bodies brushed tightly together in the hustle of the merrymakers.
How different my feelings would be if it was Will by my side, as I know he surely
is meant to be.
“Oh, look! There are the acrobats,” Alice gasped, obvious delight on her face.
They watched with awed disbelief at the five men performing their leaps and contortions.
Even Carlyle appeared amazed by their tricks.
Laughing, his face looking younger, he held her arm to lead her deeper into the festival.
She heard the lute, fiddles, and recorders being played with great energy before they
reached their destination.
Couples were dancing in a rectangle, their steps much simpler and less intricate than
those performed at court.
“I prefer dancing the Black Nag or the Petticoat Wag, but this one be a bit of fun.”
Eyes bright, Alice watched the dancers and tapped her foot in rhythm.
Elizabeth caught Carlyle’s eyes and sent a silent plea.
He smiled. “Tom, I shall hold those packages. I believe Maid Alice would like to dance.”
Almost before Tom had made the transfer of gifts into Carlyle’s waiting arms, Alice
grabbed his hand, pulling him into the rectangle of dancers.
In the torchlight surrounding them, Alice’s brown curls shone, bobbing about her face,
as nearly as red as Tom’s hair.
Again Elizabeth sought Carlyle’s eyes. “That was very kind of you, my lord.”
“I can be, you know,” he said in the same winsome voice he had used when she’d come
upon him with Florea.
Guilt weighted heavily on her for all the rebellious plans whirling through her mind
to avoid marrying him so that she could be with his brother.
“That I will come to discover. I know you are a fine dancer and I shall enjoy your
skill again tonight.” She smiled with what she hoped was encouragement, for she knew
the villagers expected a dance from the betrothed couple.
Still holding hands, and their faces split in wide grins, Alice and Tom rejoined them.
Immediately Carlyle transferred the packages, took Elizabeth by the hand, and led
her into the circle of dancers performing the Branie.
Carlyle’s sideways steps, his every movement, were done with skill and grace.
She hoped she was comporting herself as the villagers expected and deserved, for her
mind was not on the dance steps, but on Carlyle. His hair, like the duke’s and Will’s,
glistened as brightly as newly minted gold. His dark, hooded eyes were wide apart.
His shoulders broad. Indeed everything about Carlyle would make most women swoon.
Why, like I did with the nosegay, do I distrust what I see? Yet in one glance I knew
Will’s heart and soul.
The lively jig followed, and knowing her duty, she smiled and followed as best
Elizabeth smiled, knowing the sisterly rivalry which existed between them.
Suddenly at her side, Carlyle stiffened, frowning down at Elizabeth’s empty hand.
“Where is your nosegay?”
Feigning surprise and distress, Elizabeth glanced around. “I must have dropped it
making my way through the crowd.” In way of an apology, she clutched his arm, holding
it to her side. “The fair is as wondrous as Laurel promised. Shall we continue?”
He stared down at her for two thumps of her heart before he smiled, shifting so their
bodies touched more firmly. “Yes. The dancing is ahead.”
Tom took possession of the rattle as far as the next booth, where they were met by
the delicious aroma of cinnamon, figs, and ginger.
“Granny Cybil swears sucking on pieces of ginger aids digestion,” Alice declared and
promptly bought a bag of it.
Heroically, Tom also bore that parcel, a bundle of lace, and two sets of playing cards,
one of which Alice planned to send back to Wharton Keep, along with the annoying rattle.
Watching Alice’s progress though the fair lightened Elizabeth’s heavy heart, making
it possible for her to smile and to not cringe away when Carlyle touched her shoulder
or their bodies brushed tightly together in the hustle of the merrymakers.
How different my feelings would be if it was Will by my side, as I know he surely
is meant to be.
“Oh, look! There are the acrobats,” Alice gasped, obvious delight on her face.
They watched with awed disbelief at the five men performing their leaps and contortions.
Even Carlyle appeared amazed by their tricks.
Laughing, his face looking younger, he held her arm to lead her deeper into the festival.
She heard the lute, fiddles, and recorders being played with great energy before they
reached their destination.
Couples were dancing in a rectangle, their steps much simpler and less intricate than
those performed at court.
“I prefer dancing the Black Nag or the Petticoat Wag, but this one be a bit of fun.”
Eyes bright, Alice watched the dancers and tapped her foot in rhythm.
Elizabeth caught Carlyle’s eyes and sent a silent plea.
He smiled. “Tom, I shall hold those packages. I believe Maid Alice would like to dance.”
Almost before Tom had made the transfer of gifts into Carlyle’s waiting arms, Alice
grabbed his hand, pulling him into the rectangle of dancers.
In the torchlight surrounding them, Alice’s brown curls shone, bobbing about her face,
as nearly as red as Tom’s hair.
Again Elizabeth sought Carlyle’s eyes. “That was very kind of you, my lord.”
“I can be, you know,” he said in the same winsome voice he had used when she’d come
upon him with Florea.
Guilt weighted heavily on her for all the rebellious plans whirling through her mind
to avoid marrying him so that she could be with his brother.
“That I will come to discover. I know you are a fine dancer and I shall enjoy your
skill again tonight.” She smiled with what she hoped was encouragement, for she knew
the villagers expected a dance from the betrothed couple.
Still holding hands, and their faces split in wide grins, Alice and Tom rejoined them.
Immediately Carlyle transferred the packages, took Elizabeth by the hand, and led
her into the circle of dancers performing the Branie.
Carlyle’s sideways steps, his every movement, were done with skill and grace.
She hoped she was comporting herself as the villagers expected and deserved, for her
mind was not on the dance steps, but on Carlyle. His hair, like the duke’s and Will’s,
glistened as brightly as newly minted gold. His dark, hooded eyes were wide apart.
His shoulders broad. Indeed everything about Carlyle would make most women swoon.
Why, like I did with the nosegay, do I distrust what I see? Yet in one glance I knew
Will’s heart and soul.
The lively jig followed, and knowing her duty, she smiled and followed as best
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