The Blue Bottle Club by Penelope Stokes Read Free Book Online Page B

grid of Adora's ongoing conflicts with her father, but of one thing she was sure: Philip would never let her take second place to his career. Philip would always care for her and protect her.

    By midnight, the Christmas Eve party was winding down. The Archers had made an appearance after the late service but only stayed a few minutes, and Adora had gone home with them. Mary Love Buchanan had arrived, at Ellie's invitation, around eight and stayed until she had to leave for midnight Mass. Over Big Eleanor's objections—which were none too vehement since she was embroiled in an animated discussion with Tish's father over how to ride out the storm of the current stock market problem—Ellie went to Mass with Mary Love.
    That left Tish and Philip alone, pretty much ignored by the adults.
    It had been an unseasonably warm week. Even in winter, the temperate mountains of North Carolina sometimes surprised folks with a gentle turn. On this particular Christmas Eve the temperature hovered in the low fifties and every star shone bright and distinct against a cloudless velvet sky
    Philip took Letitia's hand and led her out onto the stone patio, away from the noise and clamor. Christmas carols drifted faintly on the breeze, and the conversations inside muted to a low hum. He took off his coat and placed it around her shoulders, then sat beside her on a wrought-iron bench.
    "Tish," he said solemnly, "there's something I need to talk to you about."
    She tried to shush the hammering of her heart. "All right, Philip."
    "You realize, I suppose, that everybody says we were made for each other
    Tish nodded.
    "And everyone—your father included—assumes that we'll be getting married as soon as you're of age."
    She wanted, at that moment, to throw herself into his arms and shout, "Yes! Yes, Philip, I will marry you!" But that wouldn't be proper. The gracious thing to do was wait, at least, for him to finish his proposal.
    "Well, I'm not very comfortable with those kinds of assumptions," he went on hesitantly.
    What was this? Was he going to reject her, right now, on Christmas Eve? Letitia's stomach clenched and she braced herself for the worst. She lowered her eyes and fought back tears, but when she raised her head again, he was smiling.
    "I'd like to make it official, to go back in there and announce it to everyone." He reached in his pocket and drew out a small velvet box. "Letitia Cameron," he whispered, flipping the box open to reveal a huge diamond solitaire—at least a carat and a half, Tish thought. "Would you do me the honor of consenting to become my wife?"
    A squeal of glee rose up in Tish's throat and pierced the night air—a noise that sounded, much to her dismay, exactly like her mother's banshee shriek. But Philip didn't seem to notice. He was still smiling, fumbling to put the ring on her hand, reaching to embrace her.
    She leaned toward him, and their lips met in a kiss that was more passionate than proper.
    "I take that as a yes?" he murmured into her hair.
    "Yes, yes, YES!" she shouted.
    "Then let's go tell our parents." He got up and extended a hand to help her to her feet. "We're going to have an incredible life together," he said as he wrapped his arm around her. "We'll have a big, beautiful house and lots of children. Your father and I will build the business together, and I'll be a partner, and—oh, Tish, it will be just wonderful."
    Tish took a deep breath and steadied herself against his side. It was all happening, just the way she had planned. Just as she had dreamed.

6
    NOT MY WILL
    January 1, 1930
    L etitia Cameron awoke with a delicious feeling of well-being. She could vaguely remember dreaming about Philip, about a starlit night on the patio, and him proposing in a most romantic way.
    Then she sat straight up, jerked her left hand from under the covers, and let out a squeal of delight. It was no dream! The proof was there, on her ring finger—a carat and a half of absolute