Garden of Shadows by V. C. Andrews Read Free Book Online

opening in the front was dubbed a "pneumonia blouse." Women continued to wear it, though, and it had come to be popular. Up until now, I avoided anything that revealed so much of the bosom. Now I wondered if I should wear it.
Anticipating the possibility that Malcolm would come to me in the morning, I decided to do so. After I slipped into it, I let my hair down around my shoulders and contemplated myself before the dressing mirror. The glow of the fire put a tint on my skin and made it look as though the flame were burning within me.
Looking at myself like that made me think of an unlit candle, for that was what an unloved woman was, I thought. No matter how beautiful she was, if she did not have a man to love her, she would never burn brightly. My chance to light my candle had come. I longed to see the flame.
The desire lit my eyes. I ran the tips of my fingers down the strands of my hair and touched my shoulders. Standing there and thinking about Malcolm coming to my room finally to take me in his arms, I recalled love scenes I had read in books.
He would press his lips to my shoulders; he would hold my hand between his and gently stroke it. He would whisper his love for me and press me closely to him My size that had always been my burden would arouse him In his arms I would be a perfect fit, as graceful and soft as any woman could be, for that was the power of love--to turn the ugliest of ducklings into a swan.
I felt like a swan in this dressing gown I had finally become a woman to be desired. The moment Malcolm came through that door, he would see it, and if there were any doubts in his mind about me, those doubts would be blown away like fall leaves in the wind. I longed for him to come through that door. I was ready for him to come through that door.
I put out the lights and slipped under the blanket. Fiery shadows danced on the ceiling; they looked like shapes that had emerged from the walls. The spirits of Malcolm's ancestors, asleep for years, had been nudged and awakened by my arrival. They performed a ritual of resurrection, excited with the prospect of a new mistress to haunt with the past. Rather than frighten me, the thought fascinated me, and I couldn't take my eyes off the dancing forms brought alive by the red glow of the fire.
From somewhere down the long, empty hallway, I heard a door close. Its echo reverberated, bouncing between the walls and threading its way through the darkness until it reached my doorway.
Then there was a deep, cold silence that pierced my heart, a heart so eager to be warmed and loved and cherished. I brought the blanket closer to my chin and inhaled the scent of newly washed sheets.
I listened hard for Malcolm's footsteps, but I never heard them. The fire weakened; the shapes grew smaller and retreated again into the walls. My eyelids grew heavier and heavier until I was unable to keep them open. Finally, I welcomed sleep. I told myself that when I awoke, Malcolm would be beside me and the bright new life I had anticipated would begin.

3 The Ugly Duckling and the Swan
    .
SOMETHING BRIGHT TOUCHED MY EYES AND I AWOKE. IN my half dream I thought it was the light of love shining from Malcolm's eyes, but
    when I opened my eyes I realized it was merely the bright sun. Beside me the bed was cold and empty. Malcolm had not come to me during the night. Tears sprung unbidden to my eyes. I was a married woman; when would I lie beneath the light of love. All my dreams so newly flowered wilted as if from a winter wind. Who was my husband? Who was I now? I drifted toward the window and parted the satin curtains Sunlight spilled into the room.
    Just then I heard the gentle rapping of knuckles on my door.
"Who's there?" I called, trying to sound bright and cheerful. But it was no use. My voice trembled and shook.
"Good morning, Mrs. Foxworth. You slept well, I hope."
It was Mrs. Steiner. And before I could say anything she had swung open the door and stood surveying me. A disapproving smile