The Benedict Bastard (A Benedict Hall Novel)

The Benedict Bastard (A Benedict Hall Novel) by Cate Campbell Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: The Benedict Bastard (A Benedict Hall Novel) by Cate Campbell Read Free Book Online
Authors: Cate Campbell
shouted “The Benedict Wedding” at her. Bronwyn’s heart lurched when she saw it.
    She should have stopped then. She should have thrown the paper into the breakfast room fireplace, but she didn’t. Perhaps resisting temptation was not an aspect of her character.
    Standing beside the walnut sideboard with its array of coffee cups on their copper hooks, she gazed down on the photograph of a tall, willowy bride standing beside her dashing groom. They were smiling, the dark-haired bride looking up at her new husband, the husband’s arm snug around her narrow waist. Even in black and white, Bronwyn could see that everything was perfect. The flowers, the bride’s beaded dress, even the shine of the polished banister where she rested her white-gloved hand were so beautiful that Bronwyn forgot herself in a wave of sorrow. She groaned aloud, and pressed her palm to her chest, where her heart contracted as if squeezed by a pitiless hand.
    Her mother had come running from the kitchen, where she and Mrs. Andrew were having one of their awkward conversations, the ones in which Iris tried to order menus while Mrs. Andrew announced what would actually appear on the table. Iris burst into the breakfast room, crying, “Bronwyn! What is it, dear?”
    Bronwyn dropped her hand, and drew a shaky breath as she turned hurriedly away. She thrust the paper beneath her arm so the photographs didn’t show. “It’s nothing, Mother. I’m sorry. I just—I stubbed my toe.”
    It had been two years since the disaster, but still her mother worried about her. Worried so, in fact, that her doctor had prescribed laudanum, and warned against the strain on her nerves. It was another reason to feel remorseful, and Bronwyn did that in abundance.
    She managed to give her mother a weak smile before she hurried out of the breakfast room and up the stairs, the paper burning beneath her arm as if it were on fire.
    After all she had been through, it was foolish to torment herself, but she couldn’t help it. It was like chewing on a fingernail that was already ruined, even though you knew it was going to bleed. She spread the newspaper on her bed, so the pictures and the headline blazed up at her.
    Properly, the headline should have read “The Benedict-Parrish Wedding,” but the groom, it seemed, wasn’t from an important family. His nuptials would no doubt have passed unnoticed were it not for his bride. It was the only daughter of Dickson Benedict Senior and his wife, Edith, who was newsworthy.
    Bronwyn read every word, and matched the descriptions to the photographs.

    The bride, Margot Benedict, a physician at Seattle General Hospital with an additional practice in her private clinic on Post Street, descended the formal oaken staircase of Benedict Hall in an ankle-length dress of white satin with hand-beaded bodice, net sleeves, and a dropped waist. A pearl-encrusted headband encircled her head. She wore white peau de soie pumps and white silk gloves with lace edging at the wrists.
    The groom, Major Frank Parrish, wore his British Army dress uniform. Mrs. Ramona Parrish attended the bride as Matron of Honor. Mr. Dickson Parrish Junior served as groomsman. The couple exchanged their vows before a backdrop of winter roses and carnations in a stunning framework of sword ferns.
    The newlywed couple will take their honeymoon trip south to California, where the groom, an engineer with the Boeing Airplane Company, will inspect several airplanes at the behest of Mr. William Boeing, who was also in attendance at the ceremony. Upon their return, the Parrishes will make their home at Benedict Hall.

    There was more, a list of the most prominent guests, and a description of the refreshments. Bronwyn read the whole thing twice through. She pored over the photographs, taking in every detail of Benedict Hall, trying to guess which guest was which. Most of the men were in cutaway coats and vests. The women wore the latest in hats, with furs draped around their

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