The Negotiated Marriage. Christina Rich

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “I meant to discuss the wedding, Camy,” Ellie responded.

      “There is nothing to discuss.”

      “I tell you, Hamish is up to no good.” The sound of Ellie scrubbing the table met Camy’s ears. How many times could a person scrub an already well-scrubbed surface? A blur of purple squeezed between Camy and the warmth of the fire, chilling her limbs. The spoon clanked against the kettle. Camy didn’t need her spectacles to see Ellie’s frenzied state. Every brisk movement and every mumble beneath her sister’s breath spoke clearly. Water cascaded as Ellie scooped another cloth out of the kettle. Everything in the cabin seemed to halt until the dripping of water subsided. Ellie’s purple shadow swiveled away from the fire. The wet linen smacked against the table. “No doubt, he lost the land gambling.”

      Camy lurched off the chair with a yelp, her hand pressing against the wound. “He wouldn’t. He promised. Besides, Mr. Murray doesn’t seem to be the gambling type.”

      “And what do gamblers look like?” Ellie tossed.

      “Miller,” she said without thinking. The young man who’d once been a friend had since gained shadows beneath his eyes and hard lines of worry creasing his mouth.

      “That just goes to show you that you shouldn’t trust a man’s words.” Ellie scrubbed the table with a greater force than normal. “Not a Northrop’s, not a stranger’s and most definitely not Hamish’s. Who knows what he does while he’s gallivanting about leaving us here to fend for ourselves?”

      “Our uncle may have left us at times, but he’s never broken his word to us, Ellie. And he wouldn’t gamble. He’s too tight-fisted with his purse.” Camy once again slumped onto the chair.

      Ellie knew Hamish would never do such a thing. She had to. If she wavered and began believing the worst from their uncle, then Camy’s faith in him would begin to waver too. Was it possible he thought marriage was the only way to keep her and her sisters safe? With Mara too young, Camy knew she was the obvious choice to sacrifice for her sisters, especially since Ellie’s heart remained bruised from Benjamin Northrop’s rejection. “You didn’t have to send Mara for Northrop. You’ve tended all our scrapes and cuts thus far and we’re still alive.” With Dr. Northrop and his three sons practicing medicine, they had no way of knowing who would arrive. Camy didn’t relish Miller treating her. Especially if Mara told him about Duncan, but for Ellie’s sake she prayed Benjamin was nowhere close. And, no doubt, Hamish would shoot the elder Dr. Northrop once he crossed onto the Simses’ property before asking questions ending years of disagreement between the two old men.

      “A bullet is quite another thing, Camy. How did you get shot anyways?”

      Even with the burning in her shoulder, Camy almost laughed. “Entirely by accident.”

      Ellie did laugh. “All of your mishaps are entirely by accident, dear sister.”

      Camy recalled the last incident when Hound took off after Uncle Tommy, her pet hen. The poor, one-legged gal nearly lost her other leg when she became tangled up in Camy’s skirts. Somehow she was able to save the hen, but not without injury to her own shin. It wouldn’t have been so terrible if she hadn’t have been heading out to chop branches. Good thing Ellie excelled with a needle, leaving tight stitches and little scarring. Miller didn’t need another reason why one of the Sims sisters needed a husband. Particularly him, to particularly her. If she were to wed Duncan, she would no longer have to concern herself over Miller’s endless pursuit. She had no idea which would be the better of the two. Wedding a wastrel of a man who tried to dominate her with a heavy hand, or a man who would one day leave her broken just like her father had done?

      “Sometimes I wonder if you enjoy having the Northrops over.”

      Camy’s eyes grew wide. “Absolutely not! Besides, Mr. Murray carried the rifle and the bucket of water. I tried to warn him about the trap, but he didn’t listen.”

      “He doesn’t seem like the kind of man to take orders kindly.” The table groaned under Ellie’s scrubbing.

      “Orders?” She had been quite rude to him, and she had demanded he stop when she could easily have told him about the trap. She wouldn’t be sitting here wounded, and Duncan wouldn’t be out coveting her land. Camy glanced at the weathered door and wondered if he’d decided to return to where he’d come from. Disappointment tickled her nose, as she’d like to interrogate the man Hamish had chosen for her. Was he a farmer or just a man hoping to tame the wild countryside? It was just as well, even if she worried over his shoeless feet and the bumps on his head. “I clearly thought to warn Mr. Murray, not give him orders.”

      “As I recall—” Duncan’s voice rumbled into the cabin. A brisk wind blew in with him, proving the morning’s warm spring rain had given way to the cold.

      Camy eased to a proper sitting position, careful not to cause any more discomfort than she already experienced.

      “—you demanded me to stop.” Duncan Murray’s shadow loomed over her as he moved closer, quickening her pulse. The smell of rain and freshly churned earth danced around her with each of his movements. She’d make a year’s worth of pies to have her spectacles at this moment, to see the contours of his hardened jaw, to see how the rain fashioned his russet curls. Camy’s cheeks warmed as she sensed his gaze on her.

      “I could not find Hamish.” He laid the rifle on Ellie’s clean table and received an irritated huff from her sister. “Where would you like the bucket of water?”

      “Right here is fine.” Ellie snagged the rifle, her skirts swishing across the room. Camy heard it settle on the rack beside the door, and then Ellie once again began scrubbing the table.

      “Don’t mind her. Ellie doesn’t like the Northrops and one of them is on his way.”

      “I don’t dislike them, Camy. Well, not all of them.” Ellie’s voice softened to a near whisper and the scrubbing abruptly halted.

      “Anytime we need a doctor, Ellie scours every nook and cranny.”

      “Which seems to only be when Camy has an accident. I’ve considered sending her to live with the Northrops to save us all the bother.”

      “I would never forgive you!”

      “I know. And I would never wish it on anyone, not even Levina Smith.”

      Camy smiled at Ellie’s teasing. Levina had done all she could to turn the eye of at least one Northrop, particularly Ellie’s former beau. “No doubt, Levina would enjoy residing with the doctors.”

      “Does she have accidents often?” Although Duncan spoke to her sister, Camy sensed his gaze on her.

      “Not Levina.” Camy giggled. “Never once have I seen her falter. She glides across the floor with the grace of a queen and sips her tea without an unladylike slurp.”

      Certainly jealousy hadn’t taken a foothold in her thoughts. Not of Levina. Just because Camy couldn’t walk across the room with stacks of books on her head didn’t mean anything. There were plenty of things Camy could do that Levina could not. Embroider without poking a finger, cook and plow a field. Those were practical things, things that would allow Camy independence to survive without a husband, not foolish things like useless chatter about the latest fashions and the weather that caused a man’s eyes to cross and his mind to go numb in utter boredom. “Did I mention СКАЧАТЬ