Back Roads to Bliss (Saskatchewan Saga Book #6): A Novel Read Online Free Page A

Allison, repentant, said now. “Just leave the tray, please.”
    Becky, mouthing the surprising word the young mistress had muttered in her frustration, scurried off down below, there to dare once again—in spite of cook’s stern glance—to embellish the account of life as it existed above, so different from her own as to seem magical.
    “I suppose you realize they’ll all hear about it downstairs,” Sarah said.
    “It’ll liven up their lives,” Allison said airily, flinging back the covers.
    “When did this sickness rise?” Sarah asked. “You seemed all right earlier.”
    “I told you, I’m not sick!” Allison said. “It’s just a smoke screen, for Mama’s sake.”
    “What are you up to now?”
    “Who said I was up to something? Can’t a person take a day off without being accused—”
    “Oh, come on, Sister. Why are you trying to fool Mama?”
    Allison was dressing herself casually. Later, when everything was in order and the time was right, she would dress with care. Glancing through the window, she shivered. Frost sparkled on the ground, and, yes—it was beginning to snow. Was even the weather going to be against her!
    No matter. The plan was made; Stephen, across town, would be working on his final arrangements; she would carry out hers. Now Allison’s shiver was from something other than the cold; a delicious tremor of daring, expectation, dreams come true, ran up and down her spine.
    Sarah noticed. “You’re shivering. Maybe you aren’t well, after all.”
    “For heaven’s sake, Sarah, quit acting like an old maid! Now then, I’ve got things to do—”
    “Can I help?” Sarah asked eagerly.
    Allison stopped, pondered, and nodded. “Why not? Listen; what I need to have you do is slip up to the attic and try and find a traveling bag of some kind—”
    “Traveling! Are you going somewhere, Allison?”
    Allison sighed. Little sisters were such a pain!
    “Can you keep a secret?” she asked abruptly.
    Sarah looked injured. “You know how many secrets of yours I’ve kept. Why would you have to ask?”
    “Because this is something . . . something . . .” Words failed. Allison sat back down on the edge of the bed, hugged her slim arms around her body, and said, eyes dancing and cheeks dimpling, “Sarah—I’m getting married!”
    Sarah was silent. Then, hesitantly, she said, “Well, so am I—someday. I hope.”
    Allison threw herself back on the pillows with a massive explosion of breath. “Not some day, silly! This day. Or, actually, day after tomorrow.”
    Sarah’s expression froze. “What . . . what do you mean? Oh, Allison, what have you gone and done now?”

S arah’s apprehensive cry rang throughout the room: “Allie! What have you done!”
    “Oh, hush, you silly goose! Do you want the whole house to hear you?”
    “But, Allie, you said—”
    “That I’m getting married. Is that too much to comprehend? People do it all the time.”
    “But not . . . that is . . . Oh, Allie! How can you!”
    “How? It’s very simple, really. You just declare yourselves married before witnesses—”
    “Allison! Be sensible!” But Sarah was a bit relieved; if Allison wasn’t serious, if this was her way of teasing . . .
    “If you know so much about it, why ask?” Allison responded, tossing her long dark hair not yet fastened up for the day.
    “You know what I mean. That type of marriage was banned in England—oh, years and years ago. I need you to answer me sensibly. That is, if you’re serious. You’re not, are you, Allie?” Sarah verged on being distraught. Such an announcement—and to be treated so lightly! Such a revelation—and then to tease about it!
    “You’ve read too many novels,” Sarah decided when Allison was slow in responding, instead smiling a secret smile. “The marriages you mention—they happen in fiction. They’re not legal. You can’t get married that way in England anymore.”
    “How about Scotland,” Allison said, slanting