By Ruth Axtell Morren
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Good morning,” she greeted him. “Good morning,” he replied, his gray eyes taking in her appearance. ” If the compliment wasn’t all she’d hoped for, at least it was a compliment. Her efforts had been worth it. “Thank you,” she answered demurely. He took her coat and parasol, and she climbed down the catwalk after him to the awaiting skiff. Silas held out his hand to her as she stepped into the bobbing boat. Her father returned and loosened the painter before joining them. She settled aft and waited for her father to descend.
If the girl had enjoyed herself at all, it was thanks to Silas. She couldn’t remember Annalise having said more than two words to her. ” Mrs. Townsend said. They chatted amiably for a while in a back parlor, although Cherish realized she and Mrs. Townsend did most of the talking. “Warren, why don’t you escort the young ladies around the gardens? ” “I’m sure I should enjoy that, Mrs. ” She rose as soon as Warren stood, relieved to leave the overstuffed parlor for a while. Annalise followed suit.
Don’t be silly. ” Cherish felt her temper rise, and she prayed for composure. ’” “It’s a little late for that,” he said dryly. ” No doubt seeing the outrage in her eyes, he chuckled and patted her hand. “You’re too young to know what you want. I suggest you run along home and do what your aunt bids. You still have your watercoloring, don’t you? Why don’t you walk down to the harbor and paint some of the ships? Then tomorrow we’ll sail over to Hatsfield and you can do some shopping, visit some acquaintances and get to know the Townsends better.