Origins by L. J. Smith Read Free Book Online

rules are made to be broken? You can’t make anyone happy—your father, Rosalyn, the Cartwrights—if you’re not happy yourself.”
    I cleared my throat, aching with the realization that this woman who I’d known for a matter of weeks understoodme better than my own father … and my future wife … ever would.
    Katherine slid off the chair and glanced at the volumes on Father’s shelves. She took down a thick, leather-bound book,
The Mysteries of Mystic Falls
. It was a volume I’d never seen before. A smile lit her rose-colored lips, and she beckoned me to join her on my father’s couch. I knew I shouldn’t, but as if in a trance, I stood and crossed the room. I sank into the cool, cracked leather cushion next to her and just let go.
    After all, who knew? Perhaps a few moments in her presence would be the balm I needed to break my melancholia.

8
    I ’m not sure how long we stayed in the room together. The minutes ticked away on the grandfather clock in the corner, but all I was aware of was the rhythmic sound of Katherine’s breath, the way the light caught her angular jaw, the quick flick of the page as we looked through the book. I was dimly conscious of the fact that I needed to leave, soon, but whenever I thought of the music and the dancing and the plates of fried chicken and Rosalyn, I found myself literally unable to move.
    “You’re not reading!” Katherine teased at one point, glancing up from
The Mysteries of Mystic Falls
.
    “No, I’m not.”
    “Why? Are you distracted?” Katherine rose, her slender shoulders stretching as she reached up to place thebook back on the shelf. She put it in the wrong spot, next to Father’s world geography books.
    “Here,” I murmured, reaching behind her to take the book and place it on the high shelf where it belonged. The smell of lemon and ginger surrounded me, making me feel wobbly and dizzy. She turned toward me. Our lips were mere inches apart, and suddenly the scent of her became nearly unbearable. Even though my head knew it was wrong, my heart screamed that I’d never be complete if I didn’t kiss Katherine. I closed my eyes and leaned in until my lips grazed hers.
    For a moment, it felt as though my entire life had clicked into place. I saw Katherine running barefoot in the fields behind the guest house, me chasing after her, our young son slung over my shoulder.
    But then, entirely unbidden, an image of Penny, her throat torn out, floated through my mind. I pulled back instantly, as if struck by lightning.
    “I’m sorry!” I said, leaning back and tripping against a small end table, stacked high with Father’s volumes. They fell to the floor, the sound muffled by the Oriental rugs. My mouth tasted like iron. What had I just done? What if my father had come in, eager to open the humidor with Mr. Cartwright? My brain whirled in horror.
    “I have to … I have to go. I have to go find my fiancée.” Without a backward glance at Katherine and the stunnedexpression that was sure to be on her face, I fled the study and ran through the empty conservatory and toward the garden.
    Twilight was just beginning to fall. Coaches were setting off with mothers and young children as well as cautious revelers who were afraid of the animal attacks. Now was when the liquor would flow, the band would play more loudly, and girls would outdo themselves waltzing, intent to capture the eyes of a Confederate soldier from the nearby camp. I felt my breath returning to normal. No one knew where I’d been, much less what I had done.
    I strode purposefully into the center of the party, as if I’d simply been refilling my glass at the bar. I saw Damon sitting with other soldiers, playing a round of poker on the corner of the porch. Five girls were squeezed onto the porch swing, giggling and talking loudly. Father and Mr. Cartwright were walking toward the labyrinth, each holding a whiskey and gesturing in an animated fashion, no doubt talking about the benefits of the