Lucky's Lady by Tami Hoag

Author:Tami Hoag [Hoag, Tami]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2003-12-30T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

12

SERENA CHANGED INTO HER NIGHTGOWN FEELING as if she hadn't slept in a month. Dinner had been an exhausting ordeal, not to mention depressing. And with no progress for the trouble. Burke was still set on acquiring Chanson du Terre; Shelby and Mason were still bent on selling it to him. She was still caught in the middle.

She had been glad to escape to the quiet and comfort of her bedroom. The room hadn't been changed at all in the time she had lived away from Chanson du Terre. Like the rest of the house, it seemed to possess a stubborn agelessness that defied change. The walls were papered in a delicate vine and flower pattern over a background of rich ivory. The rug that covered the floor had been trod upon by generations of Sheridan feet. The cherry bed and its hand-tied net canopy had offered rest to the weary a century before. Serena found the idea comforting. The sense of constancy appealed to her, especially now, when she was feeling tired and uncertain about so many things. She could at least look around her room in the soft light of the bedside lamp and feel welcomed.

Belting her white silk robe around her, she went to stand in the open doorway leading onto the gallery, leaning against the frame as if she hadn't the strength left to support herself. The night beyond was dark and starless, the air heavy with the promise of rain and the scents of wisteria and honeysuckle. How many other Sheridan women had stood in this exact spot and looked out into the night, pondering their futures? How many would do so in years to come? None, if Len Burke got his way. And if Burke didn't get his way . . . ?

A soft knock on the door roused Serena from her tormented musings. She turned as Shelby stuck her head into the room.

“May I come in?”

A shrug was the only answer Serena could muster. She was exhausted. The prospect of yet another conversational wrestling match with her sister was not inviting.

Shelby came in and closed the door behind her, leaning back against it, an uncertain look in her dark eyes. She had shed her pumps and let her hair down, making her look young and sweet in her feminine dress. She still wore an array of expensive rings on her dainty hands and demonstrated her hesitancy by twisting her topaz around her finger.

“I'm only trying to be practical, Serena,” she said with a suddenness that made it seem as if she had launched into the middle of the conversation instead of the beginning. “I should think you, of all people, would appreciate that. You've always been practical.”

“Practicality isn't the issue,” Serena said, coming away from the gallery door, sliding her hands into the deep pockets of her robe.

“Well, it should be. For heaven's sake, Serena, think about it!” Shelby insisted. She moved around the room with short, brisk strides, compulsively straightening things that didn't need straightening.

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