Orphan Bride by Sara Seale Read Free Book Online Page A

your orphan, Julian, ” he said softly. “But I think you ’ re making a mistake .”
    Julian grinned and puffed at his pipe.
    “You always did think so,” he said.
    “You can’t rule affection out of your life,” L u ke said. “ Or if you can, then you shouldn ’ t rule it out of others. ”
    “Meaning?”
    “That child needs affection. She needs it more than she needs bread. You’re taking on trouble, Julian, if you ’ re still serious in this hare-brained scheme.”
    “I think,” said Julian with a stiffness that was seldom apparent in his dealings with Luke, “that’s my affair.”
    Julian stayed an extra two days, and Jennet, remembering that she had been told to please him, tried to force herself to take the initiative. But the confidences which had come so easily with Luke died under Julian’s disturbing gaze. He was for her the impatient arbiter of her destiny, the person to whom she owed politeness and something a little more, perhaps, but whose dark presence gave her no comfort.
    Once he said to her:
    “You could talk to Luke, couldn’t you?”
    “Yes,” she said. “He was very nice. I liked him.”
    “All women like Luke, he flatters them,” Julian told her with a smile.
    Jennet replied simply , “He would hardly flatter me.”
    He laughed with genuine amusement.
    “ He was out to charm you as much as if you had been the most glamorous London lovely,” he said. “He can’t resist it—it’s second nature to him.”
    Jennet looked at him gravely.
    “You mean he’s insincere?”
    “Of course he’s insincere,” said Julian impatiently. “He can’t help it. Charm is insincere, Jennet. Don’t be misled by it.”
    “Charm—do you mean affection?” she asked.
    He smiled.
    “The two often get confused,” he said ambiguously. Yet he could be charming himself when he chose. “I’m arranging with Aunt Emily for you to go into Plymouth for singing lessons,” he told her. “You have a very charming voice, Jennet, it would be a pity not to develop it. I’m afraid I’ve neglected you since you came, but I’ll try and make up for it.”
    He said it quite humbly, and for a brief moment Jennet felt she could understand him and talk his language. Then he looked at her hands and remarked with his old abruptness:
    “These still need attention.”
    She pulled them gently away from his.
    “Fingers take time to recover from bad chilblains,” she said politely. “I don’t suppose you have ever had any.”
    Almost his last words before he left were to tell her that she had only to ask for anything she wanted, and he would be down again soon.
    “In the meantime, practise, and, when I come down at weekends I’ll choose your songs and see how you’re getting on.”
    She had her lessons, her daily walks, her daily milk, and new books from the library. Julian or Emily thought of most things, but they never gave her money of her own, or young companionship, or the right to decide anything for herself.

 
    CHAPTER F O U R
    During most of January, the weather was too bad to do much walking, which was a relief to Jennet, and she spent long hours writing painstaking copies of The Times leading articles.
    “It will improve your writing and improve your knowledge, and when I’m not here, Homer can dictate, and that will i m prove your spelling,” Julian said.
    J e nnet found The Times dull. She found Homer’s dictation easier to follow than Julian’s who read too fast and became impatient when he had to repeat a sentence.
    “ Just listen ,” he told her severely on one occasion.
    “I do,” she protested earnestly . “But you go so fast, and some of the wo rds are so long.”
    “Let me see what you’v e done so far. My dear child! Libation has no Y ... and dynamic has one N ... and don ’ t make those peculiar squiggles for your capitals.”
    Jennet sighed.
    Emily watched with a faintly cynical eye. “You’re v ery male, ” she told Julian once, and when he looked enquiring,