A Country Wooing
Page 17
“Yes, and it will remake a very fine evening dress, too. With careful cutting, I might even contrive an underskirt for another occasion.”
“Excellent work, Madame Nip-cheese. Could you not squeeze a pair of drapes for the blue saloon out of it as well? There are only two pairs of windows, each six feet tall.”
With a warning rattle of the doorknob, Mrs. Wickfield came into the room. One glance at the couple, with Alex’s arm around Anne’s waist, caused her to take a delighted step backward.
“Don’t leave, Auntie—Mama!” Alex said, stepping toward her. “Come and protect your lovely daughter, before I take advantage of her. Does she not look ravishing in white crepe?” He put his other arm around Mrs. Wickfield’s shoulder and gave her cheek a peck. It was typical Penholme behavior.
Smiling at the two, Anne thought Alex’s true nature had always been warmly affectionate, like the rest of his family. Circumstances had made him behave differently, but beneath that enforced aloofness, he represented the best of the Penholmes—their warmth and love, without that streak of recklessness.
“Trying to steal my beau, Mama?” she teased, and pulled his arm back. Alex smiled with satisfaction at this display of mock jealousy. “Find your own. Alex is taken.”
“You see how she means to be!” the mother quizzed. “Jealous as a green cow. It was not to steal your beau I came. I wonder if Anglin has a brother.... Robin and the girls are waiting to congratulate you. I thought ten minutes long enough for lovemaking. I run a decent house here, I’ll have you know. Besides, the tea is getting cold.”
“Oh, well, in that case!” Alex exclaimed. “We don’t want to be wasting good tea.”
Copyright © 1987 by Joan Smith
Originally published by Fawcett Crest (0449210871)
Electronically published in 2007 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.