A Place For Repentance (The Underwood Mysteries Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page A

him a pleasant ride.
                  Apart from his bodily frailty, there was no reason why the sojourn should not be pleasant, for the day was warm and sunny, particularly for so early in the year. Underwood took his time, keeping his mount to a walk. There was no pressing reason for hurry. No one was expecting him to call, and his sadly neglected muscles were crying out for a gentle reintroduction to usage.
                  As he looked about, admiring the countryside and enjoying the sun on his face, he slowly recalled his previous visit and with something of a shock realised that it was approaching nine months since he had been in this part of the world. Then it had been full summer, now it was early spring, so the aspect was rather different, but certain things were unchanging, such as the spires of distant churches, the fields, copses and farm houses. Now as then he compared the view to his home in Derbyshire and noted the altogether less harsh landscape. Here the hills rolled gently, rivers looked calm and shallow, unlike the steep crags and jagged limestone outcrops and the strongly muscular flow of peaty brown streams tumbling downhill, white-topped and frothing with the speed of their descent, looking for all the world like strong, foamy ale. It was quite astounding how a few miles of travel could wreak such an alteration in the scenery.
                  He had been so taken with looking about him that it was something of a surprise when he reached West Wimpleford in rather less time than he had feared. He consulted his pocket watch and realized that it was still only early afternoon. The decision now was who to call upon first, Will Jebson or Rutherford Petch?
                  Will won, purely on the basis that Underwood could be almost positive that he would be available, since the apothecary shop would still be open for business, whereas Captain Petch could quite likely be out and about in such fine weather and it would be more profitable to call on him in time to be invited to take tea.
                  Underwood left his mount with the ostler at the same inn he had stayed at before and was gratified to be remembered by that gentleman – though, to be fair, being held up by a highwayman was a good enough reason for fame, since it had not happened in the district for a good twenty years until Underwood had the honour the previous year.
                  The bell above the door of the shop jangled merrily when Underwood entered and Will looked up from serving a young lady, who was seated on a straight-backed chair in front of the counter. His face lit with a welcoming smile when he recognized his visitor.
                  “Mr Underwood! How good to see you. Pray take a seat, I shall just finish dealing with this lady and I will be with you directly.”
                  Underwood lifted his hand in acknowledgement, “Take your time, my dear fellow. I have no pressing need to hurry.”
                  The young woman half rose to her feet, “Oh, pray do not allow me to keep you from your friend, sir,” she said hastily, “my errand is not urgent.”
    Underwood detected an accent, which he suspected was French, and he wondered at it, for even all these years after Waterloo, the French were still not particularly well received in the provinces. London was used to the influx of aristocrats escaping from the terror of the French Revolution, and no one cared where one might have been born, but that was only in the metropolis, not in the rest of the nation; the countryside had a long memory for lost and maimed sons, who could no longer help with the harvest and animal husbandry.
                  Underwood crossed the floor and held out his hand to her, bowing as she took it, rather nervously he thought, “I wouldn’t dream of encroaching, madam. You must finish your business with Mr Jebson; I shall make