Crimson Peak: The Official Movie Novelization by Nancy Holder Read Free Book Online Page A

for an eternity while everyone awaited the apparently inevitable outcome? Or to get it over with? Eunice and her mother were stricken, and Edith didn’t blame them.
    “Eunice is a very sweet girl, you know,” she murmured. “Kind and loyal. I am flattered, but—”
    “Is it so hard to accept that you’re beautiful?” he said softly. “As well as delightful and intelligent?”
    “I can’t do this, I can’t. Please,” she protested.
    Lady Sharpe put her hands to the keyboard. And Sir Thomas’s gaze was unwavering. Insistent.
    “I’ve always just closed my eyes to things that made me uncomfortable. It works wonderfully. Won’t you try it?” he urged.
    And she knew that she was going to waltz with Sir Thomas Sharpe.
    “I don’t want to close my eyes,” she replied. “I want to keep them open.”
    A sweeping melody rose from the piano as Edith’s fingers descended lightly into Sir Thomas’s outstretched palm. His touch electrified her, and the dance—their dance—began. Gliding, his hand firm on her back, he led her in the simple but majestic steps. Gazes locked, his face swimming before her, his expression confident and… joyous? He was finding real pleasure in waltzing around the ballroom with her. And she with him.
    The flame on the long white taper in his grasp fluttered but remained lit, attesting to his mastery as he traveled the floor with her. Her hand in his, his smile, the grace with which he moved and caused her to move. She felt so different. The connection she had felt in the meeting room held, grew, binding them as they glided together, perfectly matched. Faces blurred and the requirements of civility no longer took precedent; they had entered a private world where no one else existed. At least, not until the last notes of the dance drifted away and then, of course, it was over.
    The candle Sir Thomas held still glowed, and Edith, utterly transformed, made a wish deep inside her heart and blew it out.
    What that wish was, she would never say out loud, but Sir Thomas’s satisfied smile and courtly bow seemed to answer it with an unspoken
yes.
    Then Sir Thomas’s sister rose from the piano and left the room. With one more gentle look at Edith, he took his leave and followed her out. He took Edith’s heart with him.
    Surely he knew that.

CHAPTER SIX

    C ARTER C USHING STOOD before the mirror in the shower room of his club. His shaving things and a fine breakfast of ham and eggs, coffee and a small glass of port were spread before him. The attendant, one Benton, had just hand-cranked the phonograph and it played an old sentimental tune that his dear, departed wife used to hum. Her voice had been so sweet; he had loved to close his eyes and listen to her singing lullabies to Edith. And reading to her. The nursery had been a refuge from the hard dealings of the male world—a world he had tried very hard not to deny his headstrong daughter, since she was determined to make her way in it. But in this instance, he must protect her if there was anything to protect her from.
    And after Sir Thomas’s display at the McMichaels’ ball, he was even more sure that there was.
    Unwelcome business, this
, Carter Cushing thought as he detected the familiar footsteps of the odious man about to enter his employ once more.
I wish I felt no reason to proceed.
    As if on cue, the gaunt, young figure of Hezekiah Holly approached, gingerly making his way across the tiled floor in hopes of keeping his nice leather boots dry. He wore spats and imagined himself quite the dandy. He was not.
    “Mr. Holly,” Cushing said. “I like the club first thing in the morning. I have it all to myself.”
    “A great way to start the day, sir,” Holly replied officiously.
    “Isn’t it? And perhaps a good time to end certain things, too.” He paused, but he had come to a decision, even if it might lead to crushing disappointment for his beloved daughter. “There is a young gentleman and his sister. Something’s not quite