An Unlikely Love by Dorothy Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

canvas. She watched it float across the wall and disappear, then quickly climbed out of bed and pulled on her dressing gown and slippers. A quick flick of her wrist freed the mass of long curls she’d secured with a ribbon at the nape of her neck from beneath the collar so she could close and button the quilted gown.
    Six steps took her from one side of the tent to the other. She turned, careful not to bump against the small writing desk, and walked back again. It was not very satisfactory pacing, but she couldn’t stay in bed. She had to
move
. At least with the moonlight shining on the canvas she could see well enough.
    Would you do me the honor of addressing me by my given name?
    She frowned, fiddled with the top button on her dressing gown. Had she done the right thing when she agreed to Grant’s request? And to meet him at the hotel at dusk tomorrow? Oh, what had she been
thinking
! She did not want to demean herself in Grant Winston’s eyes. She wanted him to respect her. To hold her in high regard. To—her breath caught—to be attracted to her as she was to him.
    She stopped, clasped her face in her hands and blew out a breath. Had she lost all common sense? She knew nothing about Grant Winston except that he was handsome and charming, polite and thoughtful and kind...And that he lived in Mayville and knew how to swim.
    What if he indulged in wine or other strong drink?
    The thought wouldn’t be denied. It hung there in her mind. She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms about herself and endured the pain of the memories that swarmed in silence. There was no room in the tent for tears.
    The sadness and grief drove her back to her cot. She curled up under the covers and stared at the canvas wall. How could she have allowed herself to become so besotted by the beauty of the warm August night and her foolish, romantic dream—so enraptured by Grant’s sudden appearance and charm that she forgot the promise she’d made herself—that she’d never fall in love, never marry? She knew what could happen. Her father was charming, too. Until he drank wine. And Lincoln—
    She curled tighter, pressed her hand over her mouth to hold back the sobs pushing up her throat. She would meet Grant Winston at the hotel tomorrow night as she promised. And she would tell him that her lectures were to begin the following day and she would not have time to see him again. It was better...
safer
for her that way. And nothing, not even Grant Winston, must be allowed to interfere with her work, to dilute her concentration on her message.
    * * *
    â€œGood afternoon, Miss...Bradley, is it?”
    Marissa looked up from the paper she held and gave the older woman coming into the small, shaded clearing a polite smile. How did the woman know her name? Her memory clicked. Ah, the teachers meeting. “Yes, Bradley is correct. How may I help you, Mrs. Austin?”
    â€œIf you wouldn’t mind sharing your bench for a brief spell, my dear? The woman smiled and leaned on an ebony walking stick. “I’m afraid this hill is a little too much for me to manage in one try. I find I must pause and let my breath catch up to me every so often.”
    â€œIt is a bit steep in places. I’m sure that’s the reason for these strategically placed benches.” She moved toward the end of the wood bench and pulled her skirt close. “Please sit down and rest yourself.”
    Mrs. Austin sat, leaned back and sighed. “My weary body and sore feet thank you.” She gestured toward the paper with the knob of her walking stick. “I’m sorry to disturb your reading, Miss Bradley. Do go on with it. I shall remain silent.”
    â€œNo please, that’s not necessary, Mrs. Austin. I will be glad of your company.” She folded the paper, looked up and smiled. “I have been studying these lecture notes all day. A break from them will be very welcome, I assure you.”
    The woman