Mail-Order Bride Switch by Dorothy Clark

Author:Dorothy Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-01-04T16:01:54+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Virginia glanced at the clock ticking away the minutes, looked back at her few dresses in the wardrobe and sighed. She needed to make a decision. She’d already taken too long with her morning toilette. Her hand hovered over the cream-and-dove-gray-striped dress. It was the best one she had brought with her. The pointed bodice above the two-tiered full skirt fitted her small waist in a most flattering way. And—

No! That dress was for church and other social occasions. She was only being vain wanting to wear it this morning so Garret would see her at her best. He didn’t care, anyway. He didn’t find her attractive, or he would have tried to kiss her last night. Not that she would have let him! Still, he’d had the perfect opportunity. The image of him standing in the snow, holding her shoulders and looking down at her, flashed into her head, brought with it the sting of his indifference, the hurt of his rejection. She pushed it aside. It was the memory of that moment that had stolen her sleep last night. She’d stared into the dark and gone over and over it, wondering why...

Enough! She was glad Garret hadn’t tried to kiss her. It would only complicate their pristine, in-name-only marriage. If one could even call it that.

She took a deep breath and fastened the waist of her quilted silk petticoat. What was wrong with her, anyway? It was foolishness to waste her time reliving the incident. She didn’t want Garret to be attracted to her. It was only that her pride was hurt. It wasn’t pleasant being...rebuffed.

She snatched her dark green wool dress with the ecru dots off its hook and slipped it on, puffed out the gathered fullness at the top of the sleeves and fastened the small buttons that closed the bodice. It was a nice, sensible dress.

Sensible...

Hmm. Perhaps if she looked older... She gazed into the mirror, removed the added ecru lace collar and cuffs, and ran her palms down over the wide pleats that flattened the front and left the fullness at the sides and back of the long skirt. That was better. Now, she had only to do her hair and she would be ready for the day.

She hurried to the dressing table, brushed her hair back and up to her crown, stopped and stared at her long, bouncy curls. They looked like a young girl’s. She frowned, turned her head this way and that. There had to be some way to—her gaze lit on the dark green braid that formed the short stand-up collar on the dress. Of course! She divided her hair into three sections, braided them together into a loose coil at her crown and studied the effect in the mirror. Yes, she looked older with her curls contained by the braid. She hurried out into the hallway.

She glanced toward Garret’s office. Was he there? Or in the lobby? Now that the snowstorm was over and the trains were

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