The Whispering Rocks Read Online Free

Edward was forced to forget his appearance and apply himself to the matter of controlling his mount. Poor Edward, thought Sarah dryly; to keep up with the fashion he strove in every way with his looks, but succeeded only in making himself a rather absurd fop.
    She turned from the balcony, closing the window and staring across the gathering of horses and people toward the opposite tower where a pale little face was looking down from a high window. Liza did not stir from her rooms when Sir Peter had guests. The girl felt Sarah’s eyes upon her and quickly stepped back from the window.
    Sarah looked around her rooms, listening to the sounds of Rook House. What would happen to her now? Lady Hermione would not leave this day’s work alone; she would see to it that something was said about Sarah’s presence in the wood with Jack Holland. Well, at least she did not know about Ralph. Sarah crossed her fingers in a gesture every bit as superstitious as anything Betty had done. She must hope that Hermione would tread carefully because of Jack Holland’s importance—that was all she could hope now.
     

Chapter Four
     
    The whole sorry story was common knowledge; at least that part of it which Hermione knew was. Sarah had endured an evening meal which seemed endless and during which she had seen her father gradually become aware of his daughter’s escapades. His gooseberry eyes had hardened with each successive whisper he overheard, for no one bothered to restrain their delight in the scandal. Unfortunately Jack Holland was not there, having left earlier in the afternoon on some business or other, for only his presence would have restrained the clacking tongues.
    Sarah had watched her father drink glass after glass of wine, and felt his anger reaching out silently toward her. So far he had said nothing to her for after the meal he had retired with the gentlemen, and the ladies sat together in the withdrawing room, but she knew that it was only a matter of time before he confronted her.
    She sat obediently in the gold-and-white drawing room watching the ladies who sat around like a group of bright butterflies in their colorful gowns. No one spoke to her but everyone spoke of her. She began to doubt her father’s sanity in wishing so desperately to be accepted by these worthless people. Outside the winter night closed in on the old house and the breeze of the morning had become a howling gale which bent the trees. The rooks huddled together for warmth and shelter, and Sarah almost wished herself up there with them.
    But at least this evening she could have no doubt in her appearance. The pile of Grecian curls had been expertly restored by Betty and were sprinkled with tiny lemon velvet flowers. She felt good in her high-waisted gown of yellow sprigged muslin. Nervously her fingers played with a dainty oriental fan; would this evening never end? Her nose tickled and she opened her reticule quickly to take out her handkerchief.
    Conversation paused expectantly as she sneezed, and then titters of laughter broke out as everyone thought of the drenching she had received that morning when out on her clandestine meeting with Jack Holland. Indeed, everyone had wondered at Holland’s reasons for suddenly accepting an invitation to Rook House. Now they thought they knew those reasons. Hermione’s little eyes glittered. Oh, she had done her subtle poisoning well.
    The door opened and the gentlemen came in. Sarah noticed immediately that her father’s steps were unsteady, and his face wore a thunderous expression. His new walking cane tapped angrily. All through the port and idle male chatter which was meant to relax, he had been assailed by Edward’s moans and groans about Sarah. The amount Stratford had imbibed throughout the evening had rubbed away some of the thin veneer of respectability and politeness which he always endeavored to show to the world, and now his temper had been brought to such a pitch that he lacked any discretion.