Surrender the Dawn by MaryLu Tyndall Read Free Book Online

have.
    “He gave me a bill.” Anxiety burned in her eyes. “And the rent is due by the end of the week.”
    “How much?”
    “Including the doctor bill, forty-eight dollars.”
    Luke ground his teeth together. He had only two silver dollars in hispocket—barely enough to provide food for the week. A sudden yearning for rum instead of coffee screamed from his throat. Picking up his mug, he gazed at the brown liquid swirling in his cup. Around and around it went like a brewing tempest at sea.
    A tempest that was surely heading his way.

  CHAPTER 5  
    W ake up, miss. Wake up.” The sweet voice bade entrance into Cassandra’s sleep.
    She denied it permission.
    It rose again. “Wake up, miss.” Followed by the shuffle of curtains, then the clack of shutters. A burst of light flooded Cassandra’s eyelids. Her ladies’ maid began singing a hymn—something about a fount of blessing and streams of mercy.
    Cassandra could not relate. She rolled over. “I’m not feeling well, Margaret.”
    “But Mr. Crane is here, miss.”
    Struggling to sit, Cassandra squinted into the sunlight blaring through the window. “Oh bother.” She rubbed her eyes. “Mr. Crane?”
    “Yes. Remember your mother invited him over for coffee and cakes this morning?”
    Tossing her quilt aside, Cassandra swung her legs over the edge of her mattress as her stomach turned to lead. Yes, now she remembered. She had wanted to forget—which was probably why she had forgotten.
    Swinging open the armoire, Margaret chose a saffron-colored muslin gown then pulled two petticoats from the chest of drawers in the corner, laying them gently on Cassandra’s bed. “Come now, miss, surely the man can’t be that distasteful?” She planted her fists atop her rounded waistand smiled at Cassandra. Cheeks that were perpetually rosy adorned her plump, cheery face while strands of black hair escaped from beneath her bonnet.
    With a groan, Cassandra hopped to the floor, raised her arms, and allowed Margaret to sweep her night rail over her head. “There’s nothing wrong with Mr. Crane. I simply do not wish to marry him.”
    “Well, miss.” Margaret folded her sleeping gown. “Perhaps you should give him a chance. He might improve with time.”
    Grabbing a stool from the corner, Margaret placed it beside Cassandra and stepped onto it, holding up the first petticoat. Few women were shorter than Cassandra’s mere five feet. But dear Margaret, at only four foot eight, made up for her small stature with an enormous heart. Cassandra shrugged into her petticoat. “I doubt I’ll find anyone as agreeable as your Mr. Dayle.”
    Margaret’s rosy cheeks turned crimson. “Aye, he’s a good man, to be sure. But I suspect the Lord has a kindly gentleman chosen just for you.”
    Cassandra let out an unladylike snort. “God has better things to do than play matchmaker for me, Margaret. And even if I believed He was involved in my life—which I doubt He is—I would prefer He provide me with a privateer rather than a husband.”
    “Who says He can’t do both, miss?”
    Twenty minutes later, Cassandra burst into the breakfast room situated at the back of the house. Silverware and crystal decanters sitting atop the table glittered in the sunlight pouring in through the closed french doors. The aroma of butter, spicy meat, and aromatic coffee whirled about her.
    Tossing down his serviette, Mr. Crane rose from his seat and smiled her way. Tall, thin, with neatly combed brown hair, the man was not without some appeal. His attire was fashionable and clean, save for the occasional ink smudge on his skin. In addition, his manners were impeccable and his pedigree spotless. As Cassandra’s mother loved to remind her at every turn. Speaking of, her mother, dressed to perfection in a cream-colored gown that was crowned at the neck and sleeves with golden ruffles, sat at the head of the table. Cassandra did not miss the scowl on her face. “Mr. Crane has some urgent business