A Dream Come True Read Online Free PDF Page B

described as such.
    She thought she would hear no more from him, but a few days later a note arrived asking her to a grand ball to be held at a mutual friend’s house the following week.
    She accepted in writing and then threw herself into preparing the Hall for her mother’s return that weekend. She had received a few cards from her, saying how much she was enjoying herself, but had missed her a great deal.
    The return of the McAllisters to Bingham Hall was greeted by a flurry of activity. The servants all lined up outside as the Rolls Royce drew up by the front door.
    Moston led a half-hearted cheer as Sir Arthur climbed out of the car, while everyone seemed delighted to see her mother again.
    Lucia ran towards her and was swept up in her arms.
    â€œMama, you look so very well!”
    â€œI feel wonderful, darling. Venice was a complete tonic although I must confess to a slight cough that developed whilst we were there. A doctor, however, assured me that it is nothing.”
    Lucia linked arms with her as they walked into the Hall.
    â€œMoston has tea ready in the drawing room and I want to hear all about your trip.”
    She noticed that Sir Arthur had walked straight into the study. She wondered how he would react to the telegram awaiting him and was curious as to what news it contained.
    In the drawing room, Lucia and her mother had not been talking for long when he entered the room with a look on his face that confirmed Lucia’s suspicions.
    â€œSerena,” he said with a look on his face like thunder. “I wish to see you alone at once. Lucia, please make yourself scarce.”
    Feeling hurt, Lucia arose from her chair and left the room.
    â€˜Why could he not speak while I was in the room? I am no longer a child.’
    The April sunshine enticed her outside and so, she wandered out into the garden to stretch her legs. She could hear the horses in the stables whinnying and the shouts of the ostlers and stable boys as they went about their duties.
    After a while, she could not contain her curiosity. She was close to the French windows of the drawing room and she could see inside if she moved a little nearer.
    But her stealth was not well rewarded.
    â€˜Mama. She is crying! It must indeed be bad news as she was in such good spirits when she arrived. Oh, I do hope that she will not become ill with the strain.’
    After whiling away a nervous half-hour in the garden, Lucia could bear it no longer.
    â€˜I cannot wait until someone deigns to tell me what is going on,’ she said to herself, feeling upset at the way her stepfather was treating her.
    But as she entered the Hall, Moston came towards her. “Ah, Miss Lucia, I was about to look for you. The Master wishes to see you at once in the study.”
    She did not waste any time and made her way to the study without hesitating.
    It felt odd knocking on the door, knowing that it would be Sir Arthur sitting there, not her father.
    â€œCome in!”
    Lucia could tell at once by his curt tone that he was not in a good humour.
    â€œLucia, please sit down.”
    She looked around for the leather armchair that she used to sit in as a child and settled down in front of him.
    Sir Arthur did not meet her gaze. He stood behind the large oak desk and addressed himself to the pile of papers stacked in front of him.
    â€œLucia, you will no doubt have seen a telegram arrive whilst we were away. It does not bring good news. The short of it is that the American factory in which I invested has gone into liquidation, leaving considerable debts in its wake. If I cannot find twenty-five thousand pounds at once, then I shall lose everything – the factory in Manchester and, most likely, we shall have to sell Bingham Hall.”
    â€œNo! You cannot! It is Mama’s.”
    â€œIt is the bank’s, Lucia, not your mother’s. She was forced to mortgage it after your father died and that is why we need so much money to bail ourselves