Too Far to Whisper Read Online Free Page A

shutters being closed. The only light came from several candles burning on one of the bedside tables.
    “Dear Mistress Chandler,” Abigail said in a surprisingly strong voice and extended her hand. “I have so been looking forward to your arrival.”
    Rosalind took her hand. It felt cold and bony. “I am honored that you and Mr. Corwin consider me capable of handling this responsibility, ma’am,” she said. “I promise I shall do my best to attend to your every need.”
    “I shall leave the two of you alone to get acquainted,” Elias said. With a nod, he left the chamber.
    “Please be seated, my dear,” Abigail said to Rosalind. She indicated a chair at the side of the bed. Rosalind obeyed and seated herself. “First of all, if we are to become good friends, you must call me Abigail.”
    “’Twould be discourteous,” Rosalind protested, shaking her head and lowering her gaze. Not calling Nathaniel by his surname was bad enough, but addressing the magistrate’s wife so informally was totally inappropriate – totally out of the question.
    “I insist,” Abigail said, her lips tightening. She removed her hand from Rosalind’s.
    Rosalind dared not argue with the woman. “I-I shall try,” she said.
    Satisfied, Abigail smiled. Her eyes slowly appraised Rosalind, from her soft blond curls and wide blue eyes to her slim waist. “You are indeed a lovely young woman,” she said. “So, pray tell, have you a man in your life?”
    Keeping her eyes downcast, Rosalind shook her head. “There is no one.”
    “I find that difficult to believe. I would think many young men would be lining up outside your door in their eagerness to win your heart.”
    Rosalind remained silent, her hands clasped in her lap. She did not wish to respond to Abigail’s comment.
    “I apologize,” Abigail said. “I can see the topic is not one you care to discuss. I did not mean to pry. ‘Tis just that most girls your age are eager to wed, or have already been made brides.”
    Rosalind lifted her eyes to meet Abigail’s. “I am not like most girls, ma’am.”
    “Indeed you are not.” Abigail’s smile contained a hint of amusement. “I do believe you are someone special, Rosalind, and I am certain you and I shall become very close friends during your stay here.”
    “I pray we shall,” Rosalind said.
     
    * * * * *
    The early May air felt cool against Rosalind’s face as she followed Nathaniel about the Corwins’ property later that afternoon. She tilted her face toward the sun, enjoying its warmth. Abigail’s chamber, in her opinion, was much too dark and stuffy, and she had been eager to escape it.
    With each step, the enormity of the Corwins’ wealth became more apparent to Rosalind. Their dairy house held flitches of bacon and more cheese than she had ever seen in one location. In the outer buildings and yards there were sheep, cows and pigs, and in the stables, several fine horses.
    Leisurely, Nathaniel and Rosalind strolled past the stables and to the top of a grassy knoll. “We are clearing more of the land,” Nathaniel indicated, waving his arm in the direction of a large expanse of land that was partially cleared but mostly covered by forest and rocks. The majority of the trees surrounding the clearing were pine and maple, dotted with clusters of white birch.
    As Rosalind’s eyes swept over the vast acreage, she spied two silhouettes toiling in the area being cleared. “Who are they?” she asked.
    “Two of our workers,” Nathaniel said.
    “May I meet them?”
    He shook his head. “There is no need.”
    “But if I am to live here, sir, would it not be to my advantage to be able to distinguish friends from strangers?”
    He shrugged. “Perhaps. But I would not call those two friends.” He turned to look at Rosalind and, noticing her look of disappointment, added, “Alas, if you would like to meet them, I shall grant your wish. But once I have, I strongly suggest you not go near them again.”
    Rosalind was