Shenandoah Home by Sara Mitchell

Shenandoah Home by Sara Mitchell

Author:Sara Mitchell [Mitchell, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-25T18:00:00+00:00


Twenty-Eight

Garnet watched Sloan’s retreating figure, feeling as though her body didn’t belong to her. Instead of the iciness, her blood churned, bubbling and hot, like a pot of Leah’s soup boiling over. Instead of frozen immobility, she wanted to . . . to lash out. To physically hurt someone.

No, not just someone. Felicity Ward.

The powerful, strange feelings consumed her, all thoughts of Raymond Critchley momentarily banished. She turned the force of those feelings on her target. “How could you? You ought to be ashamed. Ashamed! Do you ever think of anyone but yourself, Felicity? Have you ever in your entire self-absorbed life considered that other people were not created for your benefit? You hurt Sloan.” She pointed a shaking finger toward his diminishing figure. “You hurt him. Shamed him—”

“Enough. Goodness, Garnet. I can’t believe my eyes! Look at you—oh, very well. I apologize, for my unwelcome intrusion as well as my insensitivity.”

“I’m not the one who needs the apology.”

“I can see that.” She seemed to hesitate, and between one blink and the next, Garnet realized why: The confident, patronizing woman was . . . intimidated. By Garnet.

Well. Good.

“I’d begun to think you really didn’t have the temper to match the hair,” Felicity said.

“I didn’t, until now. I’m tempted to get carried away by the novelty of it.” Garnet swept a furious glance over Felicity’s pristine appearance. “Tell me all the other tidbits of gossip about Sloan that you’ve withheld—the ones you savor in private until an occasion where you can inflict the most damage.”

Felicity’s chin angled. “You have no right to speak to me like that. Why do you want to know anyway? I’d think we both heard quite enough of the sordid details.”

“My reasons are none of your concern.” She folded her arms.

Felicity’s mouth curved in a brittle smile. “Fine. It isn’t much. And I didn’t mention anything before because, until five minutes ago, I didn’t make the connection.” She paused. “I’m not sure I care overmuch for this . . . belligerent Garnet.”

“She’s becoming more so . . .”

“Oh, do calm down, girl. You’re weaving on your feet, in case you haven’t realized it. Losing one’s temper tends to be very exhausting.”

Sighing, Felicity lifted a pacifying hand and started talking. “The MacAllisters are a fine old family, roots go back to pre-Revolutionary days, according to my friends in Baltimore. Their estate is purported to be magnificent—dignified Georgian, all brick. Landscaping by Mr. Frederick Olmstead’s firm, I believe. I’d love to paint it. I suppose I’ve ruined any chance of fulfilling that desire.”

Garnet made a sound that reminded her of Phineas growling.

Felicity stepped back, a quick, satisfying retreat. “Yes, well . . . I don’t know much else. Sloan’s father is dead, and the eldest son lives in the family home with his wife and children and the widowed mother. My friends claim it is an unpleasant atmosphere. The eldest son’s a stuffy, pompous sort, and it seems his wife despises him. The mother’s become a recluse of sorts—the



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