The Fledgling by Jeanie P Johnson

Author:Jeanie P Johnson [Johnson, Jeanie P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

When I arrived home, I was greeted by a strange man, I had never seen before. He stood on the porch to greet me. “My name is Connor Price,” he informed me, when I approached. “My uncle sent me. He said you were expecting me. Are you the young lady I am to be the guardian of?”

I looked up at Connor. He was tall and slim, but broad shouldered and strong looking. His skin was tanned, I assumed because he had spent a lot of his time in countries that had a lot more sunshine than we had. He had removed his hat, and had given a half bow, as he offered his hand. The strands of his hair were streaked gold with dark red undertones. His eyes were a stark piercing green. He was dressed impeccably, and I approved of his looks. He did not look like a person to cross, and I had no intentions of doing so. But I was certain that no one else could get the better of him either. I was starting to feel safer.

“I thought you to be a mere child,” Connor stated, gazing down at me. I was tall for my age, and in the last two weeks, since I had been gorging myself with food, to put on more weight, and hadn’t been working it off, with doing chores, and climbing tower stairs, my breasts had filled out, and I was starting to look more like a young lady, than a skinny girl.

“I am fifteen,” I told him.

“Well, you are a very pretty fifteen,” he smiled.

“And how old are you?” I asked. “You do not look old enough to be a guardian,” I insisted.

“I assure you, I am very qualified for the position. After all, you just need someone to help you run your estate, and make sure you are protected from young men hoping to woo you into marrying them for your fortune.”

“That is the least of your worries,” I said flippantly. “I do not ever plan to get married, so all that is required of you is to run my estate, until I am of age.”

“Let us go into the house, and we can discuss everything. My uncle has informed me of your circumstances, and how they came about.”

Connor offered his arm, and I followed him into the house and into a small study, off of the parlor. “You never told me your age,” I complained, as Connor helped me become seated, and then sat across from me behind a writing desk.

“Oh, that,” he chuckled. I am twenty four,’ he informed me.

“That is too young to be considered a confirmed bachelor,” I complained. “Mr. Price said you were a confirmed bachelor.”

“You have just confirmed that you never wish to be married, and you are a mere fifteen. How does that make me too young to be a confirmed bachelor? Most men are married by the time they turn twenty, and sometimes younger. I have remained single this long, and have no inclination to change it.

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