The Glassblower by Laurie Alice Eakes Read Free Book Online

the piece, turning it, tilting it, holding it to her lips.
    Colin had thought the piece still too plain, despite his enhancements to the original design. In Margaret Jordan’s hands, it looked fit for a princess.
    Yet she stood in silence for so long his mouth went dry and sweat prickled along his upper lip. Any moment now she would turn and thrust the glass at him, tell him to return it, and inform her father it was nothing she wanted on the grand dinner table she would have with her new husband, the man who owned the biggest house in the county.
    She faced him all right, but she didn’t thrust the goblet at him. She held it out, forcing him to remove it from her fingers, brushing her smooth skin as he did so.
    “It’s—spectacular.” Awe made her voice husky. “I don’t think our glasshouse has produced anything so beautiful. Is Father going to sell them in Philadelphia shops?”
    “Not these.” Colin gave her a quizzical glance. “These are for you.”
    “For me?” She frowned. “Why would I need purple goblets?”
    “For your marriage.”
    “Oh, that.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “What nonsense. Joseph Pyle has many fine glasses all made in France. Crystal glasses. He doesn’t need me to bring more.”
    “Then you’ll be telling Mr. Jordan that, not me.”
    Colin couldn’t stop himself from continuing to stare at her. Never had he met a young lady who was so cavalier about her upcoming nuptials nor one who turned down a fine gift from her father.
    “I do the work given to me.” He added the last to keep the barrier between them.
    “And how many did Father tell you to make?”
    “A baker’s dozen in the event one breaks in years to come.”
    “Hmm.” She tapped a forefinger on her chin and gazed at the ceiling as though expecting to find some text written there.
    She remained in that pose for several moments in which the crackling fire in the stove and the snip of scissors around the corner made the only interruptions.
    Then she laughed. “Mr. Grassick, do please tell my father I would like these for my betrothal dinner party and so I will need two baker’s dozen.”
    “I’m thinking that’s not a good idea.” Colin repacked the goblet in the straw. “It will take me weeks to make that many with all the other work we have to do.”
    “Oh, I do hope it does. Many weeks.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Maybe the end of January at the earliest?”
    “Aye, it could take that long.” Colin forced his gaze away from her alluring face.
    She was up to some trick, and he wasn’t certain he wanted to be involved. Yet Mr. Jordan had said to ask Margaret what she thought of the work before making more.
    “If she doesn’t like them,” her father had said, “we can sell them with ease.”
    He hadn’t given instructions about her reaction if she did like them. Colin would simply tell Mr. Jordan what his daughter said and work from that.
    And with every goblet he formed on the end of his pipe, he would wonder why she wanted to postpone even the announcement of her betrothal. He would wish she wanted the work hastened. A lady promised to another man was far easier set from one’s dreams than one who remained free.
    Not that he was free to be even so much as dreaming about her, but no amount of determination had released his mind from her image. Now it would be even stronger. He had scent and touch to go along with the vision of amberbrown eyes and shining curls; fine, white skin and—
    He snatched up the box. “I’d best be going.”
    “You won’t stay for tea?” She gave him a coaxing smile. “It’s the least I can do for your effort in bringing the glasses here for me to inspect. And for taking my message back to Father.”
    “‘Tis my work for which I am well paid already.” He knew he sounded brusque, but he needed to resist the temptation to stay, and pushing her away seemed like the best way to do so. “I need no extra favors. Good day to you, Miss