Barrett's Hill by Anne Stuart

Author:Anne Stuart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks, Inc.
Published: 2014-04-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I WAS IN DISGRACE for the following two weeks, this recent escapade being more than the Smathers family honor could survive. I divided my time quite happily between my bedroom and the kitchen, seeing no one outside the family; and when I met them I was treated with pained, accusing glances. I would bow my head contritely, secretly pleased at my ostracism.

I woke early one morning, before dawn, about a week into my punishment. The house was still, only vague sounds from the kitchen three flights below showing any sign of life in the old mansion. I climbed out of bed, shivering in icy mid-winter air. My window was painted with delicate frost patterns, so I surmised that it was even colder than usual.

It was time to be wicked again, I decided, and started rummaging through my closets. I finally selected a bulky wool dress, much heavier than the more flattering light ones I had been wearing. Heavy wool petticoats and bloomers made of the same scratchy material made up my costume. The bloomers were a cheerful red color, a gift from Maxine, and I admired my rounded limbs in the oval mirror. I looked ten pounds healthier—I never used any term more extreme than “plump” to describe my well-filled figure. It was a fashionable body for those days, but one that displeased me nonetheless with its voluptuousness. Perhaps it was the almost blatant sexuality of my ripe curves that bothered me so much. It was a question of self-examination that I was not yet ready to delve into. When it came to the actual state of my self-esteem, I was on shaky ground. I was troubled enough by the recent events in Pomroy and in my cousin’s household. And troubled most of all by Adam Traywick.

As I started down the hallway the window at the end of the passage showed more snow falling. This would make it the sixth day in the last eight when snow had been added to our already overburdened landscape. I chuckled happily to myself. For the first time in a week I was going to be out in the stuff, and, unlike the villagers who had been born and grew up here, I greeted each new snowfall with a virgin delight. I could never get enough of the thick white flakes.

When I started down the stairs I was suddenly inspired how to spend my time of escape. Cousin Karlew had once employed a Swedish couple as cook and handyman. They had left shortly after they were hired, probably driven to distraction by Karlew’s penny-pinching habits. In their haste to escape they had left some strange contraptions in the basement storage room. Maxine had told me about them. I decided that now was the time to try them out.

Stopping at the second floor, I strode purposefully over to Maxine’s door and knocked lightly, calling, “Max?” in a loud whisper. I heard the rustle of her satin bedclothes, and she appeared at the door, looking

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