The Bewitching Hour Read Free

 Priscilla wrinkled her brow and tilted her head as she tried to figure out what the fourth thing could possibly be. “That’s only three. I suppose I must give up. What’s the fourth?”
      A glint of gold lit Loretta's eyes as she laughed. “A rather nice bosom.”

    Priscilla dug through her basket of silks, searching for the pale blue threads she had seen last week. They seemed to have disappeared. Normally, she was quite organized. Where had her mind gone to?
      After a few more moments of thought, she decided she was too tired to care and set the basket aside. The Harrison’s rout had lasted until the early hours of the morning and it had been close to three before she had fallen asleep. She leaned back against the blue and cream printed settee, shut her eyes and was drifting towards sleep when a knock came at the door.
      Instantly, her lids flew open. The knock came again. Normally, no one bothered her when she in her parlor. Not unless it was an emergency. “Yes?” she called out.
      Sally opened the door and curtsied. “Miss, Beldon asked me to inform you that Miss Dearborn ‘as come to call. He took the liberty of seating ‘er in the downstairs parlor.”
      “Why can’t she send a note before she comes to call like everyone else?” Priscilla grumbled. “Tell her I’ll be down in a minute.”
      Priscilla rose and walked to the mirror over the mantle and scrutinized her appearance. Aside from feigning illness or outright rudeness, neither of which she found acceptable, there was nothing she could do to avoid having tea with her cousin. She smoothed her skirt, patted her hair and taking in a deep breath, went downstairs.
      Mary sat by the window, her small hands plucking nervously at a white lace handkerchief. Her brown hair curled neatly about her face but the large brown eyes were red-rimmed as if she had been crying. Normally, she possessed a vibrant cherubic prettiness, but today her cheeks were pale and she looked as if she had lost weight. She wore a yellow gown, the one color guaranteed to make her look sallow and ill. Priscilla knew a grand performance was about to take place. Mary jumped up, rushed over and threw her arms around her. “Oh Priscilla,” she said. “I need your help. Please, say you’ll help me."
       What now? A hunger strike unless Uncle Jack agrees to increase her allowance? Priscilla untangled herself from her cousin’s arms. “Goodness Mary, give me a chance to catch my breath. I can’t talk with your arms wrapped around my neck.” She took Mary’s arm and led her over to the couch. “Tea should be ready any minute now. Once it’s arrived, we can chat. That will give you a few moments to compose.”
      Mary sat beside her, fat new tears welling in her eyes.
       If she’s going to cry, I may as well go ahead and ask. She took in a fortifying breath. “What has distressed you?”
      Tears spilled down Mary's cheeks. “I’ve done something awful and if it’s made known, it’s going to ruin me.”
      The butler knocked lightly at the door. Grateful for the distraction, Priscilla turned and watched as he brought in a silver tea service with their tea, plates of tiny sandwiches and a variety of small cakes. Priscilla noticed that he had placed a bottle of smelling salts next to the tea cups. Beldon had been with them for years and was as accustomed to Mary’s outbursts as the rest of her family.
      “Would you like me to pour, Miss?” He raised his voice just enough to be heard over Mary’s sobbing.
      “Please.” She watched as he deftly picked up the tea pot and poured.
      “Sugar and milk, Miss Dearborn?”
      Mary nodded her head and hiccupped.
      Belton set the delicate china cup on the table beside her. “Would you care for anything else, Miss?”
      Mary shook her head.
      He poured another cup, added a touch of milk