Carla Kelly Read Online Free PDF

Susan Hampton,” she said simply.
    He had lost his right arm, so he held out his left. She shook it and sat in the chair he indicated. “I’m Joel Steinman, he with too many papers and not enough fingers anymore to subdue them all. Are you interested in hiring a maid or a governess? I might warn you that this is a difficult time of year to hire. What can I do for you?”
    He was impossible not to smile at, with his rumpled black hair and lopsided grin. There was no question that he was a son of Abraham, as the lady in the library had mentioned. His nose was long and high-bridged, his warm olive complexion a striking contrast to the average pallid Londoner adrift in a gloomy English winter.
    She smiled back, struck by the fact that this was the first man she had ever spoken to who was unknown to her father or aunt. I have never spoken of business matters to anyone before, she considered. And if I keep on grinning, he will think I am an idiot. The thought only widened her smile.
    And he smiled back, as unconcerned as she was bemused. “What can I do for you?” he asked again.
    “You can offer me some tea,” she suggested as she pulled off her gloves and wondered if she had taken complete leave of her senses. “It’s cold out there, and I need to talk business.”
    Nothing seemed to surprise him. He leaned back in his chair. “Mama! Do put on some tea.”
    In a few minutes a lady who, other than being a foot shorter, was almost a duplicate of Joel Steinman came into the room carrying a tray. She nodded to Susan, set the tray on the desk, and settled herself into the chair at the other desk.
    “Miss Hampton, this is my mother. We are equal partners in this business.”
    Enchanted, Susan held out her hand for the cup and saucer. “You run a business together?”
    “Since my husband died, Miss Hampton,” said the woman as she stirred two lumps of sugar into her tea. The glance she gave to her son was almost as warm as the tea Susan sipped. “If you could wait a few months, I am sure we will have a better selection of servants for you to select from. As it is now . . .” She shrugged her shoulders in an eloquent way that Aunt Louisa would have found uncouth, but which delighted Susan.
    I cannot dupe these kind people, Susan thought as she set down her cup on Joel’s desk. “You do not precisely understand. I want to hire myself out as a governess.”
    The Steinmans looked at each other and frowned. This is going to be more difficult than I thought, Susan considered. “I am proficient in French, piano, and needlework, and know the rudiments of grammar, math, and composition,” she offered, stammering in her desire to please.
    Mrs. Steinman shook her head, while Joel Steinman frowned at her. “It won’t do, Miss Hampton,” he said, and his tone was decisive. “There’s not a married woman in the whole country who would hire you.”
    “But . . . you just told me how hard it is to find good servants, and here I am offering . . .”
    The Steinmans exchanged glances again and sighed. “Mother, you tell her,” Joel said. “She might think I’m being forward.”
    Mrs. Steinman folded her arms in front of her and leaned toward Susan across the desk. “Miss Hampton, when was the last time you looked in a mirror?”
    “Why . . . only this morning. I don’t understand,” Susan protested.
    “Ladies come here for abigails and governesses, my dear, and most particularly they do not hire pretty women with tiny waists, dimples, and curly hair. You can’t be over twenty.”
    “I am twenty-five,” Susan asserted. “But I am qualified in every way for such a position!” And you cannot imagine how badly I need it, she thought, leaning forward, too.
    “Ladies do not want women in the house that look like you,” Joel explained, his face a dull red. “They have husbands and older sons who would consider you too much temptation.” He held up his hand against the militant look on her face. “I’m