[Yukon Quest 01] - Treasures Of The North Read Free Page A

power to keep her feeling as she was. He was, she believed, reveling in her discomfort.
    Grace looked to her father for help, then realized he was a poor source. Her father was already wiping great beads of sweat from his brow. The poor man looked terrified of Martin Paxton.
    ‘‘I believe we should attend to our guests, Father,’’ Grace said in as calm a tone as she could muster.
    ‘‘Yes. Ah . . . yes. Of course . . . ah . . . you are right,’’ her father fairly stammered, looking to Paxton as if for permission to move.
    ‘‘Yes, we wouldn’t want to delay in announcing our engagement, now, would we?’’ he questioned, leaning close to reach Grace’s ears alone.
    He spoke in such a way that his very words seemed almost threatening. Grace was beginning to weary of his manhandling of her father and of herself. Pulling away with great dignity, Grace tilted her chin enough to give the sensation of looking down her nose at Paxton.
    ‘‘I believe, Mr. Paxton, it would be unseemly for you to escort me prior to the announcement of our engagement. In my father’s house, he alone would have the right to escort his unmarried daughter.’’
    Paxton straightened and gave her a rather cruel smile. ‘‘But of course, we wouldn’t want to displace the rules of society.’’
    Grace gave him a curt nod and turned to her father. His face had reddened considerably at her suggestion, but seeing that Paxton was unwilling for a scene, Hawkins quickly took hold of his daughter’s arm.
    ‘‘Shall we join our guests?’’ he asked.
    Grace gave his arm a gentle pat. She wanted to reassure him that she could make peace with his decision, but in truth, she wasn’t at all sure that it was possible. She knew the Bible commanded her to honor her father, but this wish—this command to marry Martin Paxton—was almost more than she could consider.
    ‘‘Yes, let us join Mother and the others,’’ she finally replied, entwining her arm around his.
    They entered her mother’s favorite drawing room, with Paxton close behind them. Grace allowed her father to circulate her through their many guests, while Paxton remained near the door. She prayed he might think better of the evening and escape before making her the object of his intentions.
    ‘‘Why, Grace, you are positively glowing. Love will do that for a woman,’’ a jovial Mrs. Bryant announced. Mrs. Bryant had been her mother’s best and worst friend for some thirty years. Best—because the two had known each other since childhood and had endured many of life’s trials and joys together. Worst—because the two women seemed to constantly be in battle to rival the other.
    ‘‘Mrs. Bryant, it is good of you to come,’’ Grace replied formally.
    She completed the remaining introductions with the same patience one might need to endure a physical examination. It was a necessary yet troublesome event. One to be tolerated but certainly not enjoyed.
    Grace remained at her mother’s side after the introductions while her father stood nervously twisting his pocket watch chain. He was working up his nerve to announce the engagement, and had Grace not been angry with him for his lack of consideration, she might have felt sorry for him. But one glance across the room at Martin Paxton, and Grace felt anything but sorry. How could her father do this? How could he simply give her over to a stranger she did not love?
    ‘‘My dear ladies and gentleman,’’ Frederick Hawkins began, ‘‘we have—that is, Mrs. Hawkins and I—have invited you here this evening to share in a very important occasion.’’
    He held the attention of every person in the room. Every person, with exception to Martin Paxton and Grace. Paxton had fixed his gaze on Grace and his piercing green eyes bore into her own. She felt undressed by his cool appraisal and reached up to tightly clench the wrap to her neck. He gave her a tight-lipped smile from beneath his pencil-thin mustache. He appeared amused