Bething's Folly by Bárbara Metzger Read Free Book Online

frills and glitter.”
    “Thank you, ma’am, and no, I am, um, not exactly a friend of Carleton’s. But you have an advantage on me, madam; won’t you come into the light?” he asked as he moved farther into the room.
    She put a book down on a side table and took a step or two forward, moving her hand from the candle it was shielding. Carleton was dumbfounded. Where had this—this stranger come from? She was small and brown-haired, with a turned-up nose and no great beauty—in fact, her looks were out of favour with the current concept of prettiness—but there was so much that was unique about her that Carleton could only stare for a minute. For one thing, her colouring was downright healthy, no, not sun-coarsened, only fresh, alive. Her hair had glimmers of gold in it which could only have come from sunshine. Her gown reinforced the whole image; a lively, happy yellow, it was completely unornamented except for a single silk daisy at the center of the décolletage. The gown was gathered under the small bust, then fell straight to the floor Another daisy tied in a long yellow ribbon of the same material caught the curls at the back of her head. What was most surprising, however, was that she was looking him straight in the eyes and laughing happily from a full, generous mouth, not blushing at his admittedly rude stare, or tongue-tied with shyness.
    “You see?” She laughed. “Not your delicate English rose, only a common countryside daisy, so you need not flee from me, too.”
    “Most assuredly anything but common,” he said, the first thing which came to his extremely bewildered mind. Surely he must have noticed anyone as lovely as this on the receiving line! Who in the world was she, and where was her chaperone, and, most of all, whatever was she doing in the library alone with him? “Please forgive my impertinence, but most of the company has repaired to dinner, and I am sure your mother must be worried over you. May I escort you to her?”
    “Oh, no, it is Aunt Claudia who is my chaperone—my mother is long dead—and I assure you that my aunt has completely forgotten my existence. She deposited me at the side of a veritable dragon and immediately found the whist tables. No, she will only recall that I made her arrive so late she missed some time playing. There will be no dragging her from the tables for hours, so here I am, unconventional as it may seem. I did say I was repairing a flounce.” And dimples appeared at the sides of her mouth as she unconcernedly sat down in one of the leather chairs.
    Unconventional was not the word Carleton would have used, for the exquisitely simple gown hugging her perfect figure had not a single flounce, frill or furbelow to its design. Besides, chaperones existed solely to protect such innocence from ones like himself! Carleton knew that his very presence would compromise her reputation, even if she was not aware of it. He looked into wide brown eyes filled with dancing gold specks and forced himself to try again. “I am certain even Aunt Claudia could not approve of your being closeted in the library with me,” he said bluntly, thinking to himself, what an understatement.
    “Well, then I won’t tell her! Will you? No, I see you are much too kind for that. Even if she does hear of it, I am sure it can’t signify. She believes in the prevailing philosophy: If you don’t think about something, it does not exist. That way she banishes all unpleasantness. Like some demented Descartes, non cogito, ergo nihil .”
    “Never tell me you read philosophy,” Carleton exclaimed, smiling in spite of himself. “That’s doing it too strong.”
    “Why, sir, didn’t you study philosophy? My father used to instruct me and talk about what interested him. I must confess not much comes my way since his death, and I never did appreciate Aristotle, in spite of my father’s wishes.”
    “In the Greek, I suppose?” Carleton asked, finally taking a seat near hers, resolved that in