Lynette Vinet - Emerald Trilogy 02 by Emerald Enchantment Page B

Cecelia’s bedroom.
    ~ ~ ~
     
    Allison counted the chimes of the clock in the hallway, knowing that each hour drew her nearer to becoming Paul’s wife. Cecelia hadn’t bothered her but stayed sequestered in her own room all day, and this puzzled Allison. She had never known her aunt to give up so easily. But she knew something was afoot when a message was dispatched to Dublin.
    Allison didn’t have the time nor the inclination to care. All she thought about as she packed her belongings that afternoon was Paul, and more than once she caught herself daydreaming about him, anticipating his touch, the feel of his lips on hers, and wondering what it would be like to wake beside him every morning for the rest of her life. “Paul,” she breathed aloud.
    “My lady?” came Beth’s voice as she poked her head from inside the wardrobe where she was gathering some of Allison’s gowns.
    Allison smiled, aware that time grew short and she must hurry instead of mooning around. “I think I’ll go to the attic in search of my mother’s trunks. I should love to find something that belonged to her to take with me.”
    “You must be quick, Miss. Mr. Flanders plans to meet you in a few hours. But I don’t know how you’re going to fend off her ladyship. There’s no way she’ll be letting you marry him.”
    A stab of fear shot through Allison suddenly as she worried that Cecelia would somehow prevent the elopement. But she hadn’t been locked in her room as Cecelia had threatened. Her aunt really didn’t seem to care. “I just have to hope that God is on our side,” she whispered.
    “I’ll pray for you, Miss Allison,” said Beth.
    “Thank you,” she told the girl and headed into the hall. Tiptoeing past her aunt’s room, she held a candle aloft and climbed the staircase which led into the attic. She hadn’t been there since she was a little girl, and though faint daylight filtered through the tiny windows, she was glad of the candle and placed it on an old table.
    Cobwebs caught and clung to her face, dust rising around her as she moved about the large attic. She searched until she found her mother’s trunk. When she opened it, she felt a surge of love for the lovely woman to whom it had belonged. Silken gowns swished in the air as she took them out and held each up for inspection. All were sadly out of date, and she sighed because she wished for something to wear that belonged to her mother. There was no jewelry—Allison remembered a remark Cecelia had once made about her father’s selling everything of worth to finance the ship which had sunk, taking her parents’ lives.
    Sighing, she reverently refolded the gowns and closed the trunk. A small wooden box with the initials D.F. engraved in the wood caught her eye. She pulled it from the top of another box where it rested.
    The contents offered nothing in the way of valuables, just sewing trinkets and the like, but hidden beneath the embroidery hoops was a small locket of finest gold.
    The sunlight, streaming from the attic windows, caused the locket to sparkle and gleam. Allison opened it, entranced by the face of a young woman who gazed in misty wonder at her. The artist had done a remarkable job of capturing the beauty and obvious intelligence of’ the raven-haired, violet-eyed woman. Allison immediately decided she wanted to keep it and would wear it when she married Paul.
    Allison picked up the candle and descended to her room. Almost before she realized it, night had fallen and it was time to leave. Beth handed her a valise which contained a few of Allison’s favorite gowns. “I hope you’ll be happy, Miss.”
    Allison hugged her. “I shall. I love Paul very much!”
    “But does he love you, truly love you?”
    Beth’s question caught her unawares. It was something she had been trying not to think about for the last few hours, but she resented the girl putting her unspoken fears into words. “I can only hope he does,” she said stiffly. She was out of