Fenella J. Miller Read Online Free PDF Page A

will be homeless.”
    Elizabeth’s happiness faded. She almost wished someone else had heard this unkind comment. Why did Amelia always have to spoil everything for her? There was no use railing against fate. There had been eighteen years of comfort and happiness at Hertford Hall so she must count her blessings and not dwell on such matters. She had a roof over her head, clothes on her back and sufficient food to eat, far more, in fact, than a lot of the poorer folk in town. Next week, she would begin a new life away from here and Amelia’s taunts could no longer hurt her.
    She fell back to walk with the gardeners who greeted her with enthusiasm. The head gardener, Bert Smith, grinned and pointed to the cart.
    “Why don’t you hop up on there, miss? There’s a pile of sacks to sit on and a rug to put over your knees. You still look a mite poorly; don’t want to overdo it not with all them guests to see to.”
    “I shall do that, Bert, it’s a long time since I’ve stolen a ride in a diligence.” She scrambled up and made herself comfortable inside. She was far warmer snuggled up than she would be trudging through the snow.
    “Here, miss, they ain’t going in the right direction. Shall we follow them?”
    She sat up and peered over the edge of the cart, sure enough Amelia was leading them away from the best place to find holly with berries on. She should call them back, tell them they were incorrect, but some imp of mischief held her back.
    “No, Bert, we shall continue as planned. No doubt at some point someone will notice our vehicle is no longer following them. I expect they will have had enough very soon and wish to return to the house leaving us to get on with our job without interference.”

    “Sir James, look, the cart is going in a different direction from us,” Eleanor said quietly.
    James glanced over his shoulder and saw she was quite correct. What was Miss Baverstock playing at? To play a trick on Lady Amelia was one thing, but quite another to involve her sister in such a stratagem.
    David Bloomfield shouted after his brother who was marching gaily ahead with Amelia hanging on his every word. “Hey! Ned, we’re all going the wrong way it would seem. Tally ho! We must run to catch them up.” He set off at a spanking pace sending clouds of snow in all directions.
    The couple turned and, holding hands, ran across the park diagonally; they would reach the cart first. This would not do; he couldn’t let the young striplings beat him. “Come along, my dear, we must join the race.” Laughing he grabbed her hand and prepared to set off.
    “Please, Sir James, I do not care to run; I beg you, let us walk quietly.”
    Her little face was screwed up with anxiety and he had not the heart to insist. “Very well, Lady Eleanor, we shall not join in their antics but behave like adults.”
    He watched the other three laughing and calling out like children — what a shame his partner had not wished to join in the game. He’d not played the fool for a long time.
    “My dear, do you not like to have fun? Surely you are too young to wish to give up such frivolity?”
    She smiled sweetly at him, apparently unaware that he was disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm. “Oh, Sir James, I have never liked frivolity of any sort. I am of a serious turn of mind, and until today I had no idea my sister would enjoy such silliness. I did not think that Mr. Bloomfield was a gentleman of that sort.”
    “He is a young man full of energy. One would not expect him to be staid.”
    “Of course not, sir. I much prefer an older, steadier gentleman. That is why I have so enjoyed your company these past weeks.”
    Good gracious! To be thought of as already past his prime when he had not yet reached his thirtieth birthday was doing it too brown. The others had joined the cart and there was a lively game of snowballing taking place between the four of them. This morning was a revelation. Amelia had proved herself to be full of fun