The Willful Miss Winthrop by Wilma Counts

Author:Wilma Counts [Counts, Wilma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 2015-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

“I told you Cosette would be bad business,” Molly said conversationally one evening as she and Cymberly helped Maggie and Amitabha set up their joint camp. Once again, Sergeant MacIver and Major Ryder were off doing what they did best. They were expected to return in two days.

“What happened?” Cymberly asked.

“She instigated a fight between two men last night.”

“Poor Sergeant Miller.” Cymberly liked the young man. Despite his reminding her of a beaten hound, he was always polite and helpful to her.

“No. Miller was not involved. ’Twas two others. Miller found out later. But he never blames her for what happens around her. That girl draws trouble like a dog draws fleas.”

“Are the two men all right?”

“They’ll survive.” Molly was clearly disgusted. “Black eyes and bruises. Nothing worse. Should be saving their fighting for the French.”

“Perhaps they were.”

“Were what?”

“Fighting for the French—the French girl, that is.”

“Go on with you.” Molly laughed. “Still, that girl is trouble. Mark my words.”

Cymberly saw Cosette from time to time. She knew there had been another altercation some weeks ago, this one with the Spanish girl Florencia. Both young women were pretty, flirtatious, and sought after by men, and both possessed volatile tempers. Perhaps Molly was right.

Cymberly tried to recall what Reggie had said recently—something to the effect that Cosette was “just asking for it,” but he did not elaborate on what “it” was. Cymberly was aware of Cosette’s continued interest in Reggie, for Reggie had told her of the French girl’s pursuit of him once she was convinced Wilson was out of her reach.

Reggie seemed to think it all a great joke. Cymberly thought he rather liked being the focus of the French girl’s attention. Since he did not appear to return Cosette’s interest, Cymberly simply dismissed the whole subject from her mind.

She saw Lieutenant Fleming nearly every day. In the last few weeks, he had been true to his word not to introduce the subject of marriage again. He seemed to make a special point of entertaining her and others around them.

“Reggie is so very amusing. Is he ever truly serious?” Juliana Williams asked one day as she and Cymberly rode together. They were having what Cymberly’s mother would once have described as a “comfortable coze.” Cymberly knew Juliana was intensely curious about her relationship with Reggie, but was far too polite to ask about it outright

Cymberly was reluctant to discuss the relationship. Beyond that, she admitted privately, she hesitated to examine it too closely. She was comfortable with him and she supposed they would rub on well together once they married.

But Juliana’s innocent question put a small chip in the shell she had established around her feelings, a shell that had warded off even her own probing. It was true. She and Reggie rarely discussed anything serious. Reggie did not share her love of literature. He dismissed the works of some of her favorite poets as so much rubbish, and said he never could understand all that fuss about Shakespeare.

His interest in

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