Across the Years , livre ebook

Rare Treasure Editions - Emilie Loring

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

120 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

When lovely, bright Faith Jarvis arrived in Washington to begin a glamorous new job, she had little idea of what was in store for her.
She found her older brother married to a jealous, vicious socialite - his career in terrible danger. She found a famous senator menaced by an espionage plot threatening the entire country. And, to make matters worse, she found herself hopelessly in love for the first time - with a man who belonged to another woman.

Sujets

Fiction

Romance

Informations

Publié par	Rare Treasure Editions
Date de parution	12 mai 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781773238418
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Across the Years
byEmilie Loring

Firstpublished in 1939
Thisedition published by Rare Treasures
Trava2909@gmail.com
Allrights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced ortransmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage orretrieval system, except in the case of excerpts by a reviewer, whomay quote brief passages in a review.

Across the Years

by Emilie Loring
The names of all characters in this novel, all
episodes, are fictitious. Use of a name which
is the same as that of any living person is
accidental.
Prologue
unlight turned the silver wings of the departingplane to opalescent gauze. It floated against the hardblue sky like a weightless spirit. A faint sigh driftedback before it vanished beyond the rim of mountainsthat seemed little more than violet mists enclosing milesand miles of shimmering desert, accented here and therewith sparse vegetation. Billions of alkali dust particleshung in the dry, choking air. A lizard wriggled to thetip of a low rock ridge and stretched in the sun.
The two men holding the bridles of their horses followedthe dim shape with their eyes till it melted intonothing.
“Well, Duke, we’ve rung up the curtain on the openingact,” remarked the elder of the two. He squaredthick shoulders in their tweeds, his pugnacious jaw setin determination, excitement deepened the blue of hiseyes. “And if I’m not mistaken we’ve got somethingbreath-taking in its importance.” He mopped his foreheadbeaded with sweat.
The younger man’s eyes swept across the desert tothe horizon. A mere hint of white in the black hair athis temples accentuated the bronze of his face. A vitalface. Strength of purpose in each line of it. Tendernessand humor in the mouth. Keenness and knowledge in thegray eyes.
“You’re right, Senator,” he agreed, “but unlessyou’ve changed your mind about keeping the discoveryof the invention, the fact that you’ve agreed to financethe testing of it, a profound secret between us three,you, I, and the man in the plane, it will be heard roundthe world if you don’t furl that white handkerchiefthat’s big enough for a flag of truce. A desert as apparentlylifeless as this may have eyes peering over thetop of one of those ridges or ears parked behind thatpile of bones which instinct tells me was once a steer.You’re a marked man these days, remember. They’rewatching you.”
Senator Joe Teele swung easily into the saddle of thepiebald mare.
“Marked because I have a mind of my own and intendto stand by my convictions as to the needs of thiscountry whether my constituents return me to Congressor not. ‘Set our own house in order first ,’ I’ll hammerat that till it’s done—or I am. I’m out to preserve humanlife and American liberty in a time when it facesmore great problems than ever before in its history,by strengthening ourselves, before strengthening ourfriends. One answer to that is, air superiority. We’dbetter get going.”
“Right,” Duke Tremaine agreed and mounted therangy bay horse.
“We’ll separate when we reach the crossroads, Duke.Better for us not to be seen together,” Senator Teelesaid as they rode on. “If this invention we’ve nailed todaystands the test it will save thousands of lives andplanes. When we’re sure of it I’ll take it before theaeronautics commission. If before that a hint of whatwe’ve put through today should get on the air high-classspies and the press boys would buzz around us likewasps about broiled lobster and another country mightget news of it, if some one of them isn’t working alongthe same line now. You’ll have to check up on the tests.We’ll work out a plan so that no suspicion of your realdestination will get around. It’s lucky you’re a licensedpilot.”
“With Washington alive with secret agents it seemsincredible that we can keep our experiment off therecord.”
“Why not? The inventor is not a Government technician.He has his own workshop. He swears that you,who trained in the same flying field as he, are the onlyperson he has told about it, and you, only because hethought you could bring it before the Government.You are convinced of his honesty and patriotism?”
“Or I wouldn’t have turned the proposition over toyou, Senator. Boy, what heat. What dust. These horsesmust be hardened to it but they’re moving like a slow-motionpicture. Now that the U.S.A. owns eighty thousandsquare miles of country at the Antarctic why didn’twe have our rendezvous there?”
“We’ll try it for the next one. Speaking of secretagents . . . Political life without the challenge of foreignand domestic intrigue, plots and counterplots,would be like salad dressing without acid, a dull andpepless affair.”
“I’ll bet we get it not only plenty acid but hot withTabasco if a hint of what we’ve put across today leaksout, Senator.”
“Not afraid to carry on with me, are you? I may haveto put through some queer deals. Not dishonorable, youunderstand; just—just screwy.”
“And can you do it! You’re telling me. Shoot theworks. I’ll go the whole way with you. I like a fight.There is no one but myself to be hurt if I take a lickingor two.”
“No sweetheart or wife you mean? Why not? You’rethirty-four, Duke, tops in your profession, and you ownArgyle House which makes even the most blasé cave-dwellersigh with envy. Maybe it’s your auger-eyes whichwarn the gals to look before they go off the deep end.They make even me wait for the green light to flash GObefore I make a proposition to you.”
“I’m too busy to fall in love, Senator. When I’m tiedup on a legal case, and I mean tied, I think of nothingelse. Women won’t stand for that. Besides, I’ve nevermet one whom I’ve been sure I’d like to face across thebreakfast table each morning for the rest of my life.”
“That’s an unnecessary worry in this year of ourLord. Most of the women of whom I hear breakfast inbed. Some day, though, you’ll meet a girl and suddenlyit will be all over with you. You’ll have to have her.You’re that type. But—it suits me to have you a bachelor.I’d hate to have the responsibility on my immortalsoul of adding another widow to this already overstockedcountry. . . . I’ll see you in Washington nextmonth. I’m opening the house early to get Thalia startedin school. My sister Kitty will be with me this winteras my hostess. You understand that even your partnerBen Jarvis is not to know of this expedition?”
“I do, Senator.”
“You’re my right hand, he’s my left. There are times,this is one of them, when I don’t want my left hand toknow what my right hand is doing.” He chuckled.“That goes for the other way round too. . . . By theway, speaking of hands, a distant cousin will arrive ina couple of months to swell my list of secretaries. He’sbeen in Consular service abroad and is eager to get backto this country. He’s the son of the man who gave memy first boost. I couldn’t turn him down when he askedfor a job; besides, his foreign experience ought to bevaluable to me. Here’s the crossroads. Good luck,Duke.”
“The same to you. Don’t let ’em get wise.”
“Not from me. From now on I keep a large supplyof red herring on hand. I’ll be seeing you.”
Tremaine touched his soft hat in reply. He sat motionlesson his drooping horse till the Senator was amere speck in the dusty distance.
“A large supply of red herring,” he repeated underhis breath. “He’ll need them to draw across this trailhe’s blazing. He was right when he said we had rung upthe curtain. The Show is on.”
I
aith Jarvis caught her reflection in a largemirror as she crossed the Union Station in Washingtonwith a bag-laden porter at her heels, a dark-haired girlin a rich red hat and matching skirt with a short minkcoat. She couldn’t see the girl’s eyes but she knew theyblazed with eagerness, she could feel the unsteadiness ofher lips and the thump-thump of her heart.
The first week in December . . . It was also theweek in which she had returned to the United Statesafter eight years in Europe. Much as she had longed tocome home she hadn’t realized that the mere steppingfrom the train would be so thrilling. It tightened herthroat, sent curious little shivers along her nerves. Shewas on her own for the first time in her life. What layahead? Whatever it was she could take it, she was tinglingto meet it.
She eagerly scanned the faces of the crowd waiting.Ben had wired her on the arrival of the ship that hewould meet her here with his car. Where was he? Shehadn’t seen him since he had come to Rome for theirmother’s second marriage three winters ago, but onecertainly wouldn’t forget one’s own brother’s face inthree years—even if he had married during that time.
The expectant crowd had thinned. Where was Ben?Suppose something had happened to him on his way tomeet her? Her throat tightened. Silly, why think ofthat? He might have been detained for any one of adozen reasons besides an accident. Should she wait orwould she better—
Who was the well set-up, tall, bronzed man whowas frowning at the stragglers behind her? It couldn’tbe . . . ! It was! She dashed forward, caught his bluecoat-sleeve.
“Duke! Duke Tremaine! Don’t you remember me?I’m Faith! Faith Jarvis. Ben’s sister!”
She smiled radiantly up into clear, clean gray eyes,eyes cool at first then flaming with a light which broughtblood burning to her cheeks in response. He put his handover hers.
“So you are Faith Jarvis? Pretty dumb of me but Iwas looking for a little girl. Forgot for a minute thatyou had grown up since the days your house was mysecond home.”
“You, if anyone, should realize I’ve grown up. Yousent Mother a cheque to spend for my birthday presenteach year I’ve been abroad.”
“Did I? Careless of me. Must have forgotten to takeyou off my mailing list when you went away.”
How like him. He had always been such fun. She hadadored him. Memory flooded her eyes with tears.
“Stop blinking those uselessly long lashes or I’ll thinkyou’re sorry I met you. Ought to have known you, I’veseen your photographs. Your hair is as satiny black,your ey