Free The Whispering Rocks by Sandra Heath Page B

deliciously in the water. She heard Janie brushing the clean gown Melissa had at last sent in—and then suddenly the maid was looking round the screen again. “Is this yours, miss? I found it on the floor just by the door.”
    Sarah stared at a heavy signet ring which the maid held in her hand. She took it, turning it over so that it caught the light of the fire. There was something familiar about it.... Her brows drew together, puzzled. Of course! It was the design on the front: a rook with outstretched wings—such as was found all over her father’s house. But what was a woman’s ring with her father’s crest on it doing here at Mannerby? She turned it again and saw that there was an inscription on the inside: My love is as endless as this ring. Edward. 1814.
    Janie suddenly clapped her hands and laughed. “Of course, how silly of me. It’s Miss Melissa’s ring. She brought it back from London last autumn.”
    Sarah gave the ring to the maid. The ring was Melissa’s? Edward had given a ring to Melissa Ransome? Everything began to fall neatly into place as Sarah watched the dancing flames in the fireplace. Melissa was the woman Edward loved, the woman he wished to marry and would have married had it not been for Sarah.
    Her head ached with the effort of coping with this new development. So much had happened already today without still more. What a terrible quirk of fate that she should have been sent here of all places. Was that, then, why Paul Ransome was so cold and distant? No, on second thought, Sarah began to doubt that Paul could know of his sister’s affair with Edward Stratford. For surely he would never have allowed Sarah to come to Mannerby if he had known.
    She stood as Janie brought a warm towel for her. Oh dear, why had her father chosen this of all houses? Practically any other place in England would have been preferable to Mannerby House.
     

Chapter Ten
     
    Melissa’s odd behavior toward Sarah continued. Not once was she openly hostile, choosing to be bright and charming when her brother was near, and then sinking into a sullen, unfriendly silence when he was not. Nothing Sarah said or did could break that silence, and after a week Sarah was feeling inclined not to bother with her. She could so easily have told the girl the truth that she did not want to marry Edward, that indeed she did not even like him, but Melissa’s behavior made such a confidence impossible.
    Sarah was now convinced that Paul Ransome knew nothing of his sister’s love for Edward, and she had no wish to precipitate any crisis by anything she said. Paul was as distant and cool as he had been from the outset, and nothing would have made Sarah go to him with her complaints.
    So Melissa was free to carry on with her subtle goading, safe in the knowledge that her victim’s pride was a sure protection against Paul’s being made aware of what was going on. Sarah was left only to marvel that an exquisite girl like Melissa Ransome could fall in love with a lout like Edward Stratford. Unkindly she decided that it could only be because of the fortune he might one day inherit.
    No letter came from Rook House. And, more important to Sarah, she heard nothing from Jack Holland. Two days after her arrival she wrote a small, sad little note to Liza, telling her of Betty’s death. The letter had been sent as it was, complete with the marks of Sarah’s tears, for she could not think of Betty without weeping. But at least she no longer had to rely on Melissa for her clothes.
    The coach had at last arrived and she had her own wardrobe again. Janie had as little idea of fashion and etiquette as Sarah, and so from the first day Sarah’s hair had merely been brushed loose and then tied back with a ribbon. Gone were the delicate Grecian tresses, which Melissa’s maid managed so well and about which Janie had no idea. Melissa had been slyly delighted with her rival’s appearance, for Sarah no longer looked the belle of Society.
    It crossed