Silken Secrets Read Free Page B

cargo.”
    “There isn’t any cargo,” Mrs. Plummer informed her. “Codey was here at five-thirty this morning. He had Fitch take him out in his boat, and the hold is empty as my cupboards. The Frenchies must have delivered before they got stuck.”
    “Oh. In that case, there won’t be any hurry in removing the boat.” Nor would Dymchurch come in mass for such paltry entertainment.
    Mrs. Plummer placed the toast in front of Mary Anne. On the plate beside it there sat a little square box wrapped in silver paper. “Mrs. Plummer! You shouldn’t have.” Mary Anne smiled and eagerly pulled off the paper. “A diary! How lovely! I’ll start writing it up right today. I’ve often wanted one. Thank you.”
    “I’m glad you like it.” The dame smiled and returned to her kitchen. Just what you’ll have to write in it is a mystery to me, my dear, she added to herself. A shame for a pretty lady like Miss Judson to wither on the vine. She would have liked to buy her something more, but with no wages for several months, a person was limited to the treasures already in her possession. It was a rare stroke of luck she’d won the diary at the church bazaar.
    While Mrs. Plummer fretted and worried about her mistress, Miss Judson fondled the little leather diary and felt she was blessed to have such good friends. There were plenty of girls with no family and no friends—ladies, gently born like herself, who had to go out and work for a living as governess or nursemaid. She had Uncle Edwin and Mrs. Plummer, Fitch, and all the neighbors. She could probably have Joseph Horton, too, if she wanted him.
    Her mind wandered to this neighbor and relative of Uncle Edwin. Joseph lived at Seaview, just a few miles down the coast. He was really a very nice gentleman, and it was a pity she couldn’t care for him as she should. He was to inherit Horton Hall when Uncle Edwin died. Added to his own Seaview, he would be quite an eligible parti. He wasn’t particularly ugly or ill-natured. “A long, dry drink of water” was Mrs. Plummer’s peculiar description of Joseph. He had a good character, worked hard, went to church on Sundays, didn’t drink to excess or gamble.
    Why couldn’t she like him? Was it because of his slurs on Uncle Edwin? Was it the proprietary way he came to the Hall every week, condemning everything and often dropping a hint that the owner of an entailed estate could be forced by law to attend to its maintenance?
    This certainly didn’t do his suit any good, but even without that annoyance, Mary Anne knew she could never like Joseph Horton, much less love him. There was no romance in him. She dropped the crusts of toast on her plate and stared with unseeing eyes at the bay window. She probably had read too many novels. What she would like to write up in her new diary was that she had met an exciting new man—tall, dark, dashing. Maybe someone like the French smugglers. Someone who led a life of danger and intrigue...
    “Good morning, my dear! Happy birthday!”
    Mary Anne looked to the doorway and blinked in surprise. “Uncle, it’s only eight o’clock! What are you doing up so early?”
    And in his good jacket, too, she noticed. He’s going somewhere—oh, I hope he takes me with him! Lord Edwin’s dark eyes sparkled with mischief. She could see he was in an excellent mood, which was very strange. He didn’t usually sleep when it rained, and lack of sleep turned him into a regular bear.
    “We must celebrate your birthday, my dear. I thought we might drive you over to Folkestone and buy you a present. It isn’t every day a young lady turns, er—eighteen, is it?”
    “I’m twenty-four today, Uncle,” she reminded him.
    “Good God, you’re becoming ancient! Twenty-four, eh? So much the better. Soon you can put on your caps and have done with all the wretched matchmaking business.” It was really only Joseph Horton’s attentions that brought on this testy speech. “Where is Plummer? I want gammon and