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

flitted over her lips.
"Has Mr. Foxworth risen?" I asked quickly.
"Oh, yes, ma'am. Some time ago. He's already left the house."
For a moment I simply stared at her. Left the house? I had to bite back the tears. Didn't he intend to spend my first day here with me? Had he stopped by my room, seen me asleep, and then gone on? Why didn't he finally wake me? Why didn't he come to me?
I felt like some invited guest, not like a newly married wife. Did the servants sense it too? Was that why Mrs. Steiner had that cold, disapproving look on her face?
"Did Mr. Foxworth leave any messages for me?" I asked, but I resented that I had to ask a servant for my husband's communication. The least he could have done was written some husbandly note and thoughtfully left it beside me on the bed. That would have given me some warmth. There was only chill in this room. The fire had died down along with my hopes and dreams. My heart felt like a cold ember. Last night it flamed with hope. Today it was coated with ashes. To my servants, I would show only strength and competence.
With a curt bow, Mrs. Steiner replied, "No, ma'am, he did not leave any messages. Would you want your breakfast brought up this morning?"
"No. I'll be dressed and down shortly."
"Very good." Mrs. Steiner went to start the fire. "It's all right. I don't need it. I don't pamper myself in the morning."
"As you wish. Did you want anything special for breakfast, Mrs. Foxworth?"
"What did my husband have?"
"Mr. Foxworth always eats very lightly in the morning."
"As do I," I said.
Mrs. Steiner nodded and made a hasty retreat.
It wasn't true, of course. Some mornings, I woke up ravenous and devoured everything in sight. But I wasn't hungry this morning. Oh, no, I was devastated and determined to find a way to make things better, right away.
Something was terribly wrong. My father had always taught me that when something was terribly wrong, there was always a reason. And the reason was always hidden. If one wanted to know the truth, one had to search for it. "But Olivia," he had cautioned me, "when you search the shadows to find that truth, often you find things more horrible, more painful than you would have imagined." But I was a strong woman. I was brought up to be a strong woman Malcolm Foxworth was my husband and I would find out why he was neglecting me on our wedding night. I couldn't let my disappointment get the better of my intelligence. I had waited so long for the morning kisses I dreamt would be mine For the cuddling, the whispered words of love and affection. I, too, deserved these, and I wasn't going to give up this easily.
When I rose and saw myself in the revealing dressing gown that was to bring such pleasure to Malcolm, I felt terribly embarrassed, even though no one else was there. It was as though I had gotten into costume for a play that was never performed, that had never been intended to be performed. I felt foolish, foolish and angry. I took it off and got dressed quickly.
I'll never forget the first morning I came down those stairs. I stood at the top and gazed out over the huge foyer and felt the vast emptiness within. It was going to be a challenge to make this into a home, a challenge I knew I could meet.
Yet, as I descended the stairway, I did feel like some queen. Mrs. Steiner had brought out Mrs. Wilson, the cook, and Olsen, the gardener, as well as Lucas to greet me. My servants waited below, anxious and intrigued with their new mistress. Surely, I made an impressive sight that morning. I imagined both Lucas and Mrs. Steiner had described me to the two others. However, none of them had expected Malcolm would bring home a bride so tall. With my hair still pinned up, my shoulders wide and straight, they must have thought some queen of the Amazon was descending from above. I saw both fear and interest in their eyes.
"Good morning," I began. "Don't expect that I will be rising at this late hour ever again. As Mrs. Steiner can tell you, we arrived in the