Timeswept Bride by Eugenia Riley

Author:Eugenia Riley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-08-06T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

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Priscilla did not see Jake for several more days. She tried to tell herself it was inevitable that he found out about Ackerly, and that the two of them should arrive at a parting of the ways. And surely their breakup was for the best. After all, he had behaved like a bully when he showed up at her studio - trying to tell her what to do, forcing his attentions on her. His actions had proven he was far too brash, too unpredictable, too dangerous, to be considered a fitting suitor. Intellectually, she knew she should consider herself lucky to be rid of such a male chauvinist . . .

Yet emotionally she didn’t feel so lucky, for she missed Jake and the girls terribly and even felt guilty for rejecting him. Sometimes she wondered if what he’d said the night she had arrived on his stoop had been true - that she couldn’t fight destiny. She knew he was entirely wrong for her, yet she craved him more every day.

Priscilla tried to stay busy, hosting a small Halloween party for her students, giving them apples and nuts and candy. Anticipation of the Cotton Exchange Ball at the end of the week also provided some welcome distraction. Right after Ackerly had invited her, Priscilla had ordered a custom ball gown from Sarah O’Shanahan, and the seamstress did a masterful job on the formal frock. Priscilla oohed and aahed over the garment when she picked it up from Sarah’s shop on Saturday morning.

On Saturday evening, after Priscilla had spent many hours bathing, dressing, and styling her hair, she swept out of her room and crossed the hallway to show her friend Mary her fabulous gown. But a rap on Mary’s door brought no response. After a moment, Priscilla peeked inside, and found the room perfectly in order, but no Mary in sight. She frowned. It was unlike Mary to leave for the weekend and not tell Priscilla, and actually, the girl had seemed preoccupied and distant much of the week. She hoped Mary was not embroiled in some crisis, and unwilling to share her troubles with Priscilla.

Closing the door, she heard a familiar female voice call up from the stairs, “Miss Pemberton, Mr. Frost has arrived.”

Priscilla peered over the railing to see Rose Gatling standing on the landing. “Thank you, Mrs. Gatling. Please tell him I’ll be right down.”

If Mrs. Gatling was at all impressed by Priscilla’s costume, she showed no sign, merely turning and descending the staircase. Feeling jittery, Priscilla ducked back inside her room and eyed herself in the mirror one last time. How she hoped and prayed her image would pass muster tonight! She would doubtless meet many more distinguished Galvestonians, and she was determined to make the best impression.

She scowled at her reflection, smoothing down a ruffle here, a pleat there. She still wasn’t beautiful, nor would she ever be big-busted, she mused with regret. But she had to admit she had never looked better.

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