Laurie's Painter (sweet Regency romance) by Alice M. Roelke Read Free Book Online

noticed, but waited patiently for
his words. For some reason, she felt a little afraid what he might say when he
looked so serious.
    "I don't want to see
you hurt," Henry settled on finally. His gaze was gentle on her, and she
felt awkward under it, as though he saw beneath her cheerful good sense to
those hidden, fairy-tale feelings she'd had.
    "I also don't want that,"
she murmured. "But I believe he means no harm."
    "He may not, but
everyone on this street is now bound to think he's courting you, and if you
take that thought into your head as well, you could be hurt if it turns out he
doesn't mean to do so."
    "Nonsense," said
Jenny in a hearty voice. "Of course I know he's just a friend. He's a kind
man, that's all—a very kind man. I am sure I would be the last person he thinks
of when he wishes to marry, if he ever does."
    Henry still looked
doubtful. Jenny turned away and busied herself fixing the tea things. Henry
must have some refreshment from his long walk. Perhaps they could eat from
those fruit cakes he'd been given. They would go well with Laurie's apples and
oranges.
    "I don't say I wouldn't
wish it," said Henry, still in a gentle voice. "Nothing would make me
happier than to see you settled with someone as kind and well-off as Laurie. And
he certainly seems fond of you. But no, I think unless he makes his intentions
absolutely clear in that direction, we shouldn't count any chickens. We must
think of him resolutely as a friend."
    "Of course,"
said Jenny in a voice that felt strangely tight. "I never had any other
intention."
     
     
    Chapter four
    Laurie drove his curricle
competently, despite snow and hazardous road conditions. He wore a near-permanent
grin at first, enjoying the drive and the challenge of it, not minding the
stinging cold that went right through his great coat and driving cape.
    However, the nearer to his
family's ancestral home he drew, the less he smiled—and not from the cold.
    He pulled up outside the
grand country estate and tossed his reins to a waiting man, giving him a smile
and a thank-you before striding up to the huge door.
    Though the estate had
seemed to grow smaller as Laurie grew larger, it still managed to give off the
air of a place that could never be explored completely and would always have
new corners to discover, to get lost in, or in which to find secreted pirate
treasure. He and his sister had created many games around such possibilities as
their home seemed to hold. It was always with a pang of pain mixed with
pleasure that he remembered those days.
    The door was pulled open
even before he could reach it, and he saw the stoic but nonetheless pleased
face of the loyal family butler. He held the door open grandly. "Beech,"
said Laurie with real warmth. He had always wished one could give a butler a
warm handshake instead of just a sopping, half-frozen cape to carry off.
    Beech directed his valet
to Laurie's old room, and that worthy carried a bag up with him.
    A statuesque older woman
with a stern face that had once been beautiful arrived to greet him before he
was even completely unwrapped. She was elegantly attired, but wore
predominantly black, as she had since his father's death.
    "Mother," Laurie
said, unwinding his scarf with the help of Beech.
    "Laurence," she
replied in a cold, stately voice. "I trust I find you well, since you
insist on travelling in the winter?"
    Laurie knew that his
mother hadn't got over his sister's death any more than had he. Their grief manifested
in different ways and seemed to drive them further apart. But he recognised her
words for what they were: worry for him, fear of losing her now-only child. So
he answered gently.
    "Mother, I am in the
peak of fitness! I wished to see you before Christmas, that is all."
    "Yes, I am well aware
you wouldn't be caught here during the actual festivities." She gave a
sniff.
    "Never could stand
crowds." He grinned cheekily whilst uttering this patently false
statement. Because, indeed, he could stand