Read Cold April for Free Online Page B

the connecting door open and settled into a lounge chair in the sitting room.
    As she had predicted, the steward soon appeared.
    “ Mr. Graham stopped in the passage and asked me to see to your dinner, ma’am.”
    “ Thank you.”
    “ I can bring you the meat and the fish. Fish tonight is Lemon Sole.”
    “ Only the fish, if you please.”
    When, twenty minutes later, he wheeled in the cart of food, she discovered far more than Lemon Sole. He’d provided an appetizer of pate, then five more courses, Parkerhouse rolls, even a luscious dessert called “Waldorf Pudding.” Plus both coffee and tea.
    She finished her meal and was about to go next door to bring back a copy of The Virginian, which her father had given her, when the door opened and Richard entered. He seemed suddenly shy and didn’t speak at once.
    “ Mr. Graham, you’ve returned so early.”
    “ I’d finished my meal and didn’t find the other diners at my table terribly interesting. In addition, I worried about you not having dinner.”
    “ The steward brought mine, as you see.” She pointed to the serving tray with its empty plates. “He said you asked him to do so.”
    “ That’s right, I did.”
    Again he lapsed into silence before taking a seat in the lounge chair opposite her.
    Beth broke the silence. “I’m disappointed that you found the other diners uninteresting. I gather the Astors were not seated at your table.” Beth grinned to let him know her expectation had not been serious. Lord Astor’s recent marriage to a very young girl had been the topic of many newspaper and magazine articles.
    “ No, I didn’t see them. They may have dined at the captain’s table.” He rose and poured himself a small glass of wine from the decanter on the sideboard. “However, we did have at least one distinguished passenger at our table; Sir Hubert Thornton and his wife were there, as well as their daughter Cecily.”
    Beth had a sudden thought. “Their daughter? How old is she? Might she become a playmate for Kathleen during the crossing?”
    Richard chuckled again. “Hardly. I believe the young woman is at least eighteen, although at times she acts considerably older. Not every man’s daughter is as young as mine.”
    Beth shrugged. “Well, perhaps there are other children on board who, like Kathleen, are asleep instead of at dinner.” She remembered the other recreational opportunities. “After dinner, I thought you might want to have a cigar in the smoking room or play cards.”
    “ I don’t smoke.”
    Beth stared at him, her mouth partly open. Not smoke?
    He seemed to feel an explanation was necessary. “When I was about twelve, and still living at home, of course, some school chums and I tried smoking behind the barns, but—in my case at least—it never caught on. I became terribly sick. They told me that would wear off, that I’d get used to it in time and actually like it. However, I never tried again.” He paused. “It’s a long story I won’t bore you with right now.”
    “ Right now,” he had said. Did he mean to tell her more about his growing up another time? She hoped so, then scolded herself. Under the circumstances, it was probably better not to get to know him too well. In fact, perhaps he had no intention of allowing her to do so. After all, in his eyes, she was a mere employee.
    “ I do play cards, however,” he added.
    “ Whist?’
    “ Yes, and the new game, Auction Bridge, as well.”
    “ Then I’m surprised you returned so soon. I’m told many people are flocking to it.”
    “ Whist has been around a long time, of course, but Bridge is becoming very popular, although it requires great concentration. Something I don’t feel up to at the moment.”
    Beth rose from her chair. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir, but perhaps you need rest. I’ll leave you now.”
    He stood and moved toward her. “No, don’t go. Stay and talk to me.” He held out a hand. “It’s not often I have an opportunity to speak