A Pretend Engagement Read Online Free PDF

herself, she didn't give a button. But for Johnny... Even if she did feel like wringing her brother's neck for what he had done, she knew she would not let him down.

    `The fog was dreadful, wasn't it?' she commented pleasantly. Deaf ears. Leon Beaumont ignored her pleasant comment. `Actually, I somehow didn't expect you to be here until today-er-the fog and everything,' she added lamely. `Um, you must have put your car away iii the garage.' She came to an end to see that he had clearly heard quite enough of her rambling on.

    `Just what are you doing here?' he challenged aggressively. `And how the hell did you get in?'

    Tell him, urged her true self. And she knew she would derive a great deal of satisfaction From doing just that. But-Johnny... Somehow, just to tell this man that his assistant was her brother seemed like letting Johnny down. `Oh sorry,' she apologized, racking her brains. `Didn't I say?' What? What? What? `There's a spare key hidden in the pyracantha bush by the tool shed. Er-Mrs. Lloyd can't come after all-' Varnie broke off, her brain racing. 'I'm here as her replacement.' Had she actually just said that? She hadn't-had she?

    Looking at Leon Beaumont, Varnie saw that he didn't appear to believe it either. He cast an eye over her trim figure, in her casual but obviously good clothes, and bluntly, skepticism rife again, questioned, `You're here to do domestic work?'

    Varnie, used as she was to looking out for her brother, couldn't see what other choice she had. `Yes,' she confirmed.

    His answer was to take hold of both her delicate hands. She immediately wanted to snatch her hands back, but by effort of will managed to stay still. She did not often have a manicure, but she had been going to go on holiday, for goodness' sake, with someone she had up until yesterday thought of as someone a bit special. So why wouldn't she go the whole hog and have her hands and nails professionally attended to?

    `These hands have never known hard work,' he stated, tossing them disgustedly away from him.

    `Yes, they have!' she argued.

    `You've skivvied?' So absurd did the notion seem to appear to be to him, he looked as though he might burst out laughing. He didn't.

    `I have!'

    `It looks like it.'

     

    `I was in the hotel trade!' she defended, while hardly knowing why she was bothering. `I've worked all areas when required-chambermaid, cleaner, chef, secretary, accountant,' she enumerated.

    `You were learning the hotel business?' He seemed to reconsider. `So what happened?' he wanted to know.

    'The-er...' Oh, heavens, how much had Johnny told him? `The hotel sold out to a bigger chain,' she lied. `There were two of us doing the same job. I-er-sort of lost

    `You were sacked!'

    Oh, how she would like to poke him in the eye-both eyes, come to that. `Not sacked. They've said they'll give me a splendid reference.' She had been in charge of that sort of thing; she could write herself a super reference if need be. Though of course a reference wouldn't be needed for casual work.

    `So when this Mrs. Lloyd told Metcalfe she couldn't come, he rang and asked you to come and help out?' he asked, looking not taken in for a second.

    `That's about it,' Varnie answered. What on earth was she doing? While she wanted to stay on at Aldwyn House, no way did she want to stay here with him! And no way did she want to stay and, worse, work for the wretched man.

    `Thanks, but no thanks.' He declined an offer that she was not altogether sure she had made anyway.

    `Why not?' Why was she arguing? Johnny must keep Johnny to the forefront of her mind. Part of being a sister meant looking out for one's sibling-no matter how infuriating that sibling could be at times.

     

    For a moment it did not look as though Leon Beaumont would deign to answer. Then, abruptly, `I don't take favours,' he said curtly.

     

    Good! Johnny! Damn. `It's you who'll be doing me a favour,' she said in a rush- Johnny Metcalfe, you owe me, big-time. 'I'm out of a