Short Straw Bride by Dallas Schulze Read Free Book Online Page B

was. Her daughter had no such difficulty.
    “She’s in the kitchen, earning her keep,” she said, throwing him a bright, sharp smile.
    “She’s employed by you?” Luke asked, knowing full well that wasn’t the case.
    “Of course not.” Dorinda Williams threw her daughter a warning look before smiling at Luke. He didn’t find her smile any more appealing than her daughter’s had been. “What Anabel should have said was that Eleanor insists on helping around the house. It’s her way of thanking us for taking her in when her father was killed.”
    “Does she always stay in the kitchen when you have guests?” Luke’s expression of polite interest drew any sting from the question.
    “Can’t say I’ve seen much of her,” Cora Danvers said, her harsh voice unnaturally loud in the stuffy little room.
    “Eleanor is very shy,” Dorinda said in a strained tone. “Her upbringing before she came to us was rather—shall we say, unconventional?”
    “ We aren’t saying anything,” Cora said, withering her hostess’s coy tone. “And if you’re hinting that Eleanor’s father taught her anything less than perfect manners, I’ll say flat out that I don’t believe it for a minute. Nathan Williams had manners smooth enough to please the queen of England. So if you’re suggesting that Eleanor might be inclined to blow her nose on her sleeve or some such thing, it doesn’t seem likely.”
    Dorinda’s face had turned a pale shade of purple during Cora’s speech, and Luke hid a smile behind his coffee cup. He thought he could come to like at least one banker’s wife.
    “Of course, Eleanor’s manners are impeccable. I certainly wouldn’t allow anything less. I merely meant that, with her father having practiced a less than respectable profession, perhaps Eleanor is not as comfortable in polite company as a girl like my sweet Anabel, who was raised in more cultured surroundings.”
    “What was her father’s profession?” Luke asked. “If you don’t mind my asking, of course.” Not that he really cared whether anyone minded or not. He wanted to find out as much as he could about the girl he was considering marrying. Eleanor had said her father had traveled a lot, but he hadn’t given much thought to the man’s profession.
    “My brother earned his living on the turn of a card,” Zeb Williams said in a repressive tone that made his opinion of such a profession quite clear.
    “A gambler?” Luke’s brows rose.
    “Yes. It’s not something we talk about a great deal, for obvious reasons.” Zeb looked as if he’d just confessed to having a wild Indian in the family.
    “Look how serious we’ve all grown,” Anabel cried with forced gaiety, annoyed that everyone’s attention had somehow been drawn away from her. “It’s much too nice a day to be so serious. Don’t you agree, Mr. McLain?”
    She widened her pretty blue eyes at him and thrust her lower lip out in the merest hint of a pout. Luke would have bet a good horse on the fact that she’d practiced that look in front of her mirror. He smiled and wondered if maybe her parents shouldn’t have spanked her a time or two when she was younger.
    “Why don’t you play for us, dear?” Dorinda smiled indulgently.
    “I’m not very good,” Anabel protested prettily, but Luke had the idea that it would have taken a tornado to budge her from her seat on the bench.
    “Nonsense, my dear. Miss Brown said you had a natural talent,” Zebediah said. “Miss Brown learned to play in Boston,” he added proudly, giving the impression that Bostonians had some sort of an edge over the rest of the country when it came to piano playing.
    “Miss Brown said the same thing to my Horace,” Cora put in. “And he can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”
    There was an awkward little pause and Luke saw Anabel’s eyes flash with fury, the first genuine emotion he’d seen from her.
    “Well, Anabel doesn’t need a bucket to carry a tune,” Dorinda said with a tight