Sick of Shadows by Sharyn McCrumb Read Free Book Online Page A

haven’t you heard about it? It’s a family joke, really.”
    “Well, I heard Captain Grandfather mention something about a ‘silly will’ being just what he had expected of his sister, so I assumed that it had something to do with Great-Aunt Augusta, but she’s been dead for ages. What about her?”
    “Back in the twenties, her parents wanted her to go off to a finishing school, but she wanted to get married to a country singer. Of course, Great-Grandfather disowned her when she finally did elope with him. But it was
very
romantic,” sighed Eileen.
    “Well, if she left you an inheritance, she must have been rich. Who did she marry? Hank Williams?”
    “Oh, no. Nobody famous. He was killed in a bus accident a year after they were married.”
    “Killed? Then where did the money come from?”
    “Great-Aunt Augusta invested his insurance money in California real estate and made a fortune,” said Eileen.
    “Why does the money come to you, Eileen?”
    “Didn’t you know? Everyone else has been teasing me night and day. According to the terms of her will, the money comes to the first of her grandnieces or grandnephews to get married,” said Eileen. “And next Saturday, that will be me.”
    “I wish someone had told me,” said Elizabeth. “I would have tried harder.”
    Eileen giggled. “Oh, Elizabeth. You’re as bad as Geoffrey! Always joking! Anyway, it isn’t that much, really. Just about two hundred thousand after taxes.”
    “Is that all?” murmured Elizabeth.
    Eileen stood up. “Well, I’ve intruded on you longenough. Let me go and see if Michael has finished in the library. Good night, Elizabeth.”
    “What? Oh! Good night, Eileen.”
    When Eileen opened the door, Geoffrey, who was coming up the stairs, called out, “Don’t shut it! I have a message for Elizabeth! Is she decent?”
    Elizabeth peered out into the hall. “What is it?”
    “Alban has gone home. It is my belief that he turns into a pumpkin on the stroke of midnight, but—”
    “What is the message?” Elizabeth demanded.
    “I am coming to that, my dear. It’s from Alban. He said to tell you that you are to go over at ten o’clock tomorrow to be shown around the Albantross. Not his exact words, of course. Got that? Good. Then I shall say good night ’til it be morrow.” He sauntered off toward his room.
    “Thank you, Geoffrey!” called Elizabeth, closing the door rather more loudly than necessary.
    Eileen Chandler did not go downstairs immediately. She flipped off the hall light and sat down on the top step. The drone of the television drifted up from the family room; she sighed and settled back into the companionable darkness. Behind her something moved, and she turned sharply to look. The pier mirror at the top of the stairs had caught her reflection as she moved. Nothing to be afraid of, she told herself; it was her own face she had seen. Eileen closed her eyes and thought back over her conversation with Elizabeth. Had she been convincing? Was that how a bride was supposed to talk? No one must suspect the fear that was growing inside her. She must sound normal. She must!
    With a careful smile, Eileen stood up and started down the stairs.

CHAPTER SIX
    T HE C HANDLERS TOOK BREAKFAST on a glass-topped table in the morning room adjoining the kitchen. When Elizabeth came downstairs at eight-thirty, only Charles and Captain Grandfather were present.
    “Good morning,” murmured Elizabeth, taking a chair next to Charles. “Where is everybody?”
    “All over the place,” said Charles between bites of toast. “Dad had an emergency case at the county hospital; Mother and Aunt Louisa left for town a few minutes ago; Eileen went out to paint, since she has that meeting later this morning; and What’s-His-Name’s asleep.”
    Elizabeth looked at the two clean place settings in a shaft of sunlight across from her. “I don’t see Geoffrey.”
    “Geoffrey says that breakfast before ten o’clock is uncivilized. He’s still