Winterwood by Dorothy Eden Read Free Book Online

possible influence for her.” After the briefest pause he added, “My wife agrees, though reluctantly. She thinks you rather too pretty, and wonders how you come to be in this position.”
    “As for that—”
    “No, don’t explain. I don’t particularly want to know. Flora and I accept you for what you are to us. Isn’t that enough for your sense of dignity?”
    To her complete fury her voice trembled. “Your wife will scarcely accept that.”
    “As Charlotte rather aptly put it, ‘beggars can’t be choosers.’ We really are in desperate straits for help. Oh, she will ask endless questions, of course. But aren’t you flattered that she should distrust you for being pretty?”
    “Mr. Meryon—please believe me—I’m not suitable for this position. You know nothing about me. I’m not even honest.”
    “You mean that business of borrowing your cousin’s jewelry. If I may be frank, she can scarcely do it justice herself.”
    “You’re very rash to dismiss a thing like that so lightly.”
    The gondolier, rowing rhythmically, suddenly began to sing. He had a fine lyrical tenor voice. The lapping of the water against the boat was a gentle accompaniment. The lights from the shore were so much dimmer than the moonlight. They were bathed in luminous light; the water was velvet black, the ripples like the fin-silver of fishes. Daniel had made no answer to Lavinia’s last protest, as if suddenly he had become caught in the magic of the night. She knew that she had. She seemed to have sailed away from the past and the future, and was experiencing an extraordinary sense of release and freedom. She sensed that he was, too, although she could scarcely presume to divine his thoughts. It was a bit of moonlight madness to have the intuition that he, too, had been glad to momentarily shake off ties and troubles.
    If the gondolier didn’t stop singing she would find herself agreeing to any proposal, no matter how fantastic.
    “You have an extraordinarily innocent face,” Daniel said, and the spell was gone forever.
    “What makes you say that?” she demanded suspiciously.
    “Only because your cousin seems to have made you feel you have committed some black crime. I assure you Flora and I will be more tolerant when you are at Winterwood.”
    She tried to revive her indignation. She was altogether too conscious of his arm against hers. Gondolas were not made for prim behavior. However had she allowed herself to get into this situation?
    Because you wanted to, the voice in her head said. Be honest for once. He has spoken nothing but the truth. You do want to go to Winterwood; you do want to be persuaded; you did cultivate Flora’s acquaintance; you did deliberately go outdoors alone this evening. And you were utterly miserable at the thought of those dead-and-alive Monks with their parchment faces. Be honest!
    But you know where this will lead you. You’ll fall in love with him and begin to hate Charlotte’s lovely face. Going to Winterwood will be deliberately impaling yourself on a stake, walking on nails …
    But couldn’t there be some way out of the hurting?
    If you made Flora happy, for instance, not because you like and admire her, but for his sake, because he cares. If you were able to help her to walk again, wouldn’t that recompense you for your own hurt? And wouldn’t Robin be happy to know you had such a good position?
    Anyway, Daniel Meryon knows what he is doing. His eyes are wide open. He’s only flattering you because he wants his own way for Flora’s sake. He’s happily married. His wife is very beautiful. He’s adult and conventional and sophisticated. Those tender glances come easily to him. You must learn not to read anything into them. You must learn to control your destiny.
    But, oh, to live again …
    The song had ended. The dark curve of the Rialto bridge loomed ahead. The gondolier expertly swung the gondola around. They were headed back for San Marco. The world was returning.
    “Very