Orphan Bride by Sara Seale Read Free Book Online Page B

explained: “The second time you came here you doubted if your experiment would work, and seemed quite indifferent about it, but since Luke charmed some response out of your orphan, you’ve fallen to it with a will.”
    Well,” Julian grinned, “after all, she is my orphan.”
    Emily smiled.
    “Exactly. Your orphan, your bone—no body else shall have it.”
    There were times when Jennet felt not unlike a bone herself. Julian worried at her, like one of Aunt Emily’s griffons , and she wouldn’t be surprised if he would have liked to bury her until he came again. He came most weekends now, but he never brought Luke again. Sometimes Jennet wished he would come; it would be a relief to talk freely to someone who was uncritical and attentive for a change. She forgot that her first instinct on meeting him had been one of distrust and remembered only that he had been gay and charming and had treated her as an adult person.
    Jennet went twice a week to Plymouth for lessons in singing and elocution, but she was never allowed to go alone by bus. The village taxi was hired to take her there and bring her back.
    Jennet herself would have preferred to travel by bus; it was her only opportunity for rubbing shoulders with a crowd. She liked to watch the people thronging the pavements, women with shopping baskets jostling each other in the queues, young girls linking arms and laughing, out for an afternoon’s pleasure. She wished she could join them.
    There was a small dancing academy next door to her singing teacher’s house. Through the uncurtained window Jennet could see the pupils in their neatly spaced lines performing pirouettes and fouettes to a well-thumped piano.
    Sometimes there was a class for ballroom dancing and she would watch them revolving in the waltz, children of all ages with intent faces and happy restless feet. She would like to learn dancing, she thought, and to friends with the children.
    She decided she would ask Julian when he came that week end. He had told her tha t s he had, only to ask for anything she wanted. She put the suggestion to Emily.
    “Dancing lessons?” Emily said, considering. “No, I don’t see why not. We’ll ask Julian.”
    But Julian’s reaction was unexpected.
    “What do you want to learn dancing for?” he asked with a frown.
    The flush of anticipation started to fade from her thin cheeks.
    She said: “It would be fun—and it’s quite a useful accomplishment, isn’t it?
    “I don’t think so,” he said shortly, “and certainly not for you. Once you start that there’ll be no end to it. You ’ll get dance-crazy like all the others and never happy unless you’re going to parties.”
    “Oh, no,” said Jennet, quite shocked by such a picture of frivolity as applied to herself.
    He tapped his stick irritably against the fender.
    “No, Jennet. I won’t have you take up dancing, and I don’t want to hear any more about it.”
    He saw the still, closed look shut down over her face and she said quietly:
    “Very well, Cousin Julian.”
    “ Why won’t you let the girl have her dancing?” Emily asked him later.
    He made a small impatient gesture with his pipe.
    “ Good lord, Aunt Emily, use your common sense! Why give the poor little wretch a taste for the thing if she’s going to spend the rest of her days with me? I shall never dance again.”
    Emily knitted hurriedly.
    “And mustn’t your wife?” she asked mildly.
    He was silent for a moment.
    “With other men?” he said them “That’s not very wise.” The bitter lines deepened about his mouth. “No, Aunt Emily, I’ve had one prospective bride so crazy about dancing that she threw me over for a man with two whole legs, and I’m not going to risk it again.”
    “I see,” said Emily, and went on knitting.
    Julian missed two weekends , and when he next came he noticed a difference in Jennet. She was filling out a little and she had certainly grown. That vulnerable, rather touching look of adolescence was