Dragonwyck by Anya Seton Read Free Book Online

Esmeralda.

3
    MIRANDA SLEPT LITTLE THAT NIGHT. EVERYTHING was strange; the street lights that filtered through her tightly drawn curtains, the amazing softness of the bed, the absence of a bedfellow. It was the first time in her life that Miranda had slept alone, and she would have missed Tibby's breathing and restless little mutters except that there was so much unaccustomed noise. There was the ticking of an onyx clock on the mantel, the rattle of wagons over the cobblestones, the hourly peal of bells from Saint Paul's Church next door, and there was the voice of the watch on the street below. 'It's one o'clock of a fine summer's night. All's well in the Third Ward.'
    And later as dawn was breaking, the watch, as though inspired by near release from his duties, became more eloquent. 'It's Tuesday of a June morning. Four o'clock and all is well. John Tyler's still our President. The weather's fine, bless the Lord.'
    By five o'clock Miranda gave it up.
    She had been dressed and at the window for an hour when the waiters appeared in the sitting-room with breakfast. She was too excited to eat much, and when Nicholas appeared, smiling and courteous, telling her that his barouche was waiting at the door, she suppressed a belated instinct to cling to her father.
    Ephraim had no stomach for sentiment this morning. The girl was going, and he was impatient to get back home. He also had slept badly, and he was not of those who enjoy a break in routine.
    So their farewells were hurriedly said on the steps before the Astor House. God in His providence'll guard you, Miranda. Remember always that you're the Lord's handmaiden. Serve him diligently,' said Ephraim, putting his round beaver hat firmly on his head. And farewell to you, sir.' He turned to Nicholas, who stood beside them, his uncovered dark hair slightly ruffled by the morning breeze. 'Chastise her when she needs it. I pray that you'll make her useful to you and your wife. She's inclined to be lazy, I'm warning you. See that she writes home often, and don't let her neglect her prayers.'
    Miranda flushed and Nicholas bowed gravely, saying, 'I will treat her in every way as though she were my own daughter.'
    But I couldn't be, thought Miranda, he's but thirteen years older than I. And this sudden thought startled her.
    'Good-bye to ye, then,' said Ephraim. He picked up his straw basket and walked rapidly away down Broadway.
    At once a sensation of forlornness seized Miranda. He might have kissed her, she thought, aware that this was folly. Ephraim did not hold with cozening and cuddling. And he's not very fond of me, anyway, she thought wistfully. She knew that Ephraim was, so to say, through with her for the present. He had done his duty, albeit unwillingly, had turned her over to her new cousin, and was anxious to get back to his real interests.
    She sighed as Nicholas handed her into the barouche. As they rode west on Barclay Street she was too despondent to notice her surroundings. She had never been in a private carriage before, but even the liveried coachman on the box and the two sleek bay horses did not capture her attention.
    She vaguely supposed them to be hired, having no conception of the way men of Nicholas' standing lived. He kept a full stable and two carriages in New York for use during his infrequent visits. And he had recently built himself a town house on Stuyvesant Place for the same purpose. The house had been closed, its furniture swathed in dust sheets, and it had not seemed worth while to have it opened for one night, hence his choice of a hotel.
    But when they reached the Hudson River pier and Miranda saw the enormous white-and-gold steamboat which awaited them, she was startled out of her depression. 'Oh, do we sail on that?' she cried. 'I never saw a boat so big—and beautiful.'
    Nicholas smiled. Her naivete amused him. It would be interesting to form this immature mind, to teach it and mould it. She would have much to learn before she would do him