Shadows in Scarlet by Lillian Stewart Carl Read Free Book Online Page B

you—but since she'd told Wayne she had to work honor dictated she sit down and work. Using Melrose's inhabitants as examples did fit what she was doing. She could start out with Page building the house in the best model of the Age of Reason, and then contrast those ideals with the meager possessions of the servants and slaves below stairs....
    She booted up and checked her e-mail. Two engaged college friends were asking for advice on wedding dresses. Speaking of the socionomic significance of clothing—like you're really going to be able to wear that bridesmaid's dress again.... Always a bridesmaid? Amanda asked herself, and answered, better to be the bridesmaid than to connect with the wrong guy.
    Lafayette raised his head and looked out into the deepening twilight. Footsteps crunched along the gravel path. “Amanda?” called a woman's voice. “It's Lucy Benedetto, dear."
    "Come around to the door,” Amanda called back. “I'll let you in."
    Lafayette laid his head down again, not one hair ruffled. The steps wended their way around the end of the wing. Amanda turned off the security system and opened the back door.
    The elderly woman materialized from the gloom outside the halo of lights. “I made too much pie for our supper tonight. Vernon and I thought you might like to have some.” She held out a pie plate, carefully wrapped in a clean dishtowel.
    The odor of cinnamon wafted upward. Gingerly Amanda took the warm plate. Its weight implied an entire pie. “That's really nice of you. Thanks. Come on in...."
    "Oh no, no, I need to get back, it's almost time for the Pavarotti concert on PBS. We just—well, we just wanted you know we're right up the way if you need us. A nice young girl like you being all alone here and everything."
    "Thank you,” Amanda told her. “But I'm doing just fine. Really. No problem."
    "Oh. I see. It's all right, then. Well, good night.” Lucy retreated into the darkness.
    "Good night. And thanks a lot for thinking about me.” The woman was gone.
    Okay.... Amanda took the pie into the house. It was apple, she discovered. She cut herself a monster piece and closed her eyes while its butter and spice melted on her tongue.
    So what was that all about? she asked herself, suspecting that the pie was only an excuse for Lucy to act protective. Maybe she'd seen some horror story on a talk show about young women living alone or something.
    Wayne, the Benedettos—everyone wanted to protect her. They meant well. They didn't mean to patronize her. She didn't have to get into anyone's face with the “I am woman hear me roar” routine. Why, she'd even seen a ghost and handled the situation just fine.
    A soft brush against Amanda's leg made her jump. It was Lafayette, demanding to know what she was eating. Fine, she told herself. Yeah, right. She offered the cat a bit of apple. He sniffed. With an indignant snort of tuna-scented breath he stalked away.
    Amanda took her plate to the desk, sat down, and inserted a Pearl Jam CD into the changer. Then she sent a search engine into cyberspace. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. Knowledge is power. She was groping for yet another rationalization when a long list of “Highland Regiment” sites scrolled down the screen in front of her.
    Saturday and Sunday were Melrose Hall's busiest days. Amanda didn't have time to eye the staircase. Wayne didn't have time for any of his eager-puppy numbers. Carrie didn't have time to discuss miniatures and morals. Amanda curtsied, and spoke her lines, and was glad to notice she was getting less jumpy about her supernatural experience the further it receded beyond her event horizon.
    By the time she fell into bed Sunday night she was just about ready to conclude the house wasn't haunted after all. Maybe she had imagined that quick, bright laugh Wednesday evening. She sure hadn't heard the least bump in the night since then.
    Amanda pushed the sheet down so that the breeze from the ceiling fan blew on her