Berried Alive (Manor House Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page B

of face powder that Sadie threw could hit her in the face.
    Sadie's room was on the lowest floor of the mansion, just down the hall from the kitchen. It was always quiet on a Sunday. It was Polly's day off so she wasn't there much on Sundays anymore. Not like when she used to be the housemaid.
    Polly used to like being in the Manor House on Sundays. Martin always rested in his room in the afternoons, and Violet, having cooked a large meal midday, usually took a nap in her quarters.
    Right now most of the American airmen billeted in the east wing were either at the base or spending the day in North Horsham. By that evening, though, a lot of them would be back for the talent night at the Tudor Arms. It was closer to the base, and they wouldn't have so far to drive. Which was just as well if they'd had too much to drink. Most of them had trouble remembering to drive on the left side of the road, even when they were sober.
    Polly and her sister had come close to being run over many times on the way back from the pub. In fact, that's how she'd met Sam. He'd put them both in the ditch while driving on the wrong side of the road.
    Polly smiled at the memory, but her smile soon faded. Things had been really good between them until Sam had found out how old she was. She'd lied about her age because she was afraid he'd think she was too young. Then, when he found out the truth, he was so flaming angry he'd driven around a bend too fast and overturned the Jeep. He hadn't wanted anything to do with her ever since.
    Polly climbed the huge curving staircase to the second floor, her heart heavy with the pain of it all. He'd come to Sunday tea once, but she'd hardly seen him since then. Sadie and Marlene thought he was staying away from herbecause of his scars. Polly wanted very badly to believe that, but a niggling worry deep inside her whispered that Sam didn't want her anymore because she was too young for him. Sam was going to be twenty-five this year. It might as well have been forty-five, the way he felt about it.
    Polly reached the top of the stairs and paused, struck by the sudden icy chill that seemed to close in around her. The sun was still high in the sky, and would be for several hours, thanks to double summertime. Even so, the great hall was thick with shadows, most of the sunlight obscured by heavy velvet curtains and the thick dust on the towering windows.
    In her thin sleeveless blouse, Polly shivered. Ahead of her the great hall stretched the length of the manor, its walls peppered with solemn portraits of former earls of Wellsborough and their ladies.
    About midway down, a massive suit of armor kept guard over the silent walls. It was just beyond there that Polly thought she saw the shadow of a man, moving stealthily along the right wall.
    Goosebumps raised themselves all the way down her arms. Rumors that the Manor House was haunted had been passed around the village ever since Polly could remember. No one had ever actually seen a ghost. Except Martin, of course, and everyone knew that Martin had a screw loose.
    But now Polly wasn't so sure. Someone was moving down there, and she could see right through him. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Frozen in one spot, she could only stare as the shadowy figure seemed to merge with the curtains, then disappear.
    In that moment another movement from the end of the hall caught her eye. Her breath came out in a rush of reliefas she realized the man heading toward her was solid flesh and bone, then she lost her breath again when she saw it was Sam.
    He barely limped now, and the angry red patches of scars had faded to a light pink. Every day he was beginning to look more and more like the old Sam. Her heart contracted with pain. It was too bad he didn't act like the old Sam. How she missed being with him.
    He greeted her with a raised hand as he drew close. "Hi there. What are you up to?"
    He paused in front of her, and she ached to rush up to him and fling her