Fate's Intervention by Barbara Woster Read Free Book Online Page A

“ why didn ’ t you tell me that my staying here was putting a strain on you? ”
    “ Oh, Sweetheart, it ’ s not as bad as all that, ” he said. He loved his daughter dearly and hadn ’ t thought what a careless statement brought about by irritation at not finding her a suitor and tiredness from being ill, would cause. “ It ’ s more that I want someone capable looking out for you, not you having to worry about caring for me for the rest of your youth. Now, ” her father said firmly , “ I could use some r est, so you find something to entertain yourself with this evening. ” He reached around and released his daughter ’ s grip.
    “ No chess match? ”
    “ No chess match, ” he said. He placed a light kiss on her forehead. “ Now, let me be for a bit. Go work on your quilting. ”
    “ Exciting. ”
    “ Very. Please send Nancy with my port. ”
    “ Yes, Father . ”
    Marcelle watched her father climb the steps to the living quarters and wondered what he was hiding from her. She didn ’ t believe for a moment that he had a cold. Cold, bah. His health had been slowly deteriorating for the past month and Marcelle knew it. No cold held to a body as long as that. She hadn ’ t missed the increased visits from his physician either.
    The subtle threats he kept spouting added to the increased pressure for her to wed; the ongoing cold and multiple visits from his physician, made her wonder at what really was going on with her father .
    Despite their incessant arguing – a nother oddity since he was participating in those less and less as well – he could have forced her to wed at any time since turning fourteen, but hadn ’ t. Now, things were changing rapidly and she wanted to know why.
    She knew why he ’ d humored her when she was younger. That was no great mystery. He ’ d indulged her curiosities and allowed her freedom that most young girls never experienced, and even given her the right to decide when and whom she would marry . That earlier lenience stemmed from her mother ’ s sudden death and his inexperience in the rearing of a young daughter. A partiality that suited her just fine. Of course that changed when he realized she wasn ’ t inclined to select a mate . She only wished things could remain as they were when she was fourteen, but something was happening to her father , something that was changing his perspective of her future. It worried her.
    A small smile formed on her mouth as she remembered the first suitor to come to call on her. Her father hadn ’ t even played a hand in that one. The young man simply appeared on her doorstep the day after her thirteenth birthday.
    Stefan Mills was tall, lanky, and right in the middle of becoming a man at the tender age of sixteen. He was an amusing diversion for Marcelle, who enjoyed watching him trip over his two feet and listening to his voice change pitch on a daily basis. She was always polite with him, however, and never let on that his awkwardness was the center of farcical discussion around the dining room table each evening.
    He was also Marcelle ’ s first experiment with kissing. Unfortunately, that hadn ’ t gone so well.
    Father , seeing the young man ’ s interest, and pleased that the boy ’ s father owned the adjoining parcel of land, invited him and his parents to dinner. Following, Father suggested a walk to allow them a chance to talk freely, with Bridget, the housekeeper at the time, following at a discreet distance.
    The walk was going well, since Marcelle ’ s humor continued to increase with each of Stefan ’ s missed steps, even if conversation was lagging. She kept thinking that he ’ d maintain better footing if he kept his gaze directed forward instead of to the rear . It didn ’ t register why he would be concerned as to the whereabouts of their chaperone.
    It wasn ’ t until they came to a bend in the road that she realized why he ’ d been interested in Bridget ’ s nearness. He didn ’ t want any