Fool Me Twice Read Online Free PDF Page B

came, Lord Michael would recognize her in an instant. But Cook caught on, and shook her head. “He’s been driven away, Mrs. Johnson. He’ll not set foot in this house again.”
    Olivia eyed her. “You say you’ve known the duke since boyhood.” And Cook’s tearstained face was very poignant, the picture of a grieving grandmother, almost.It would require a heart of stone to look upon her and remain indifferent. “Perhaps if you were to speak to him . . .”
    “Oh, no. It’s not my place. And I’ll not go up there, I won’t.” Cook crossed her beefy arms and sat back, less grandmotherly now than mulish. “It’s here I stay, in the kitchens. I take good care of them; I know my place.”
    “Convenient for you,” Vickers muttered.
    Olivia bit back an agreement. Cook’s pride in her kitchens evidently did not extend to cleanliness: Olivia had discovered a pile of dirt sitting on the counter just this morning. “Let’s trick him down here, then. When he realizes Vickers is not at hand, he’ll certainly go looking . . .” She trailed off, for all three looked startled. “What is it?”
    Jones said guardedly, “He will not leave his room.”
    She frowned. “Even if we all seem to have abandoned our posts?”
    “He has not left in . . . some time.”
    She paused. “You mean to say he won’t leave his bedroom? Ever? ”
    “I suppose he might venture into the sitting room occasionally.” Jones cast a hopeful look at Vickers, who shrugged.
    “Vickers ain’t in the rooms often enough to know,” Cook said. “I have to chase him off my girl thrice a day!”
    “Hey now,” said Vickers. “I can’t help it if she hangs about!”
    “He won’t leave his room ?” Olivia wished to be very clear on this point. She had never heard of such a bizarre condition. “But why ?”
    “Nobody can say,” said Jones.
    “He doesn’t receive anybody, either.” Vickers soundedgloomy. “Doesn’t write letters. Takes no calls. It’s dashed dull around here, of late.”
    Olivia groped for words. “Then how on earth does he conduct his business?” For this was not merely a private gentleman. This was a peer of the realm, one of the greatest landowners in England. His concerns necessarily encompassed the welfare and livelihood of a vast number of people.
    “He don’t manage,” Cook said. She gave a pull of her mouth, considering. “Perhaps you’re right.” She glanced toward Jones. “Liquor can’t be helping him.”
    Jones thumbed his patch of overlong whiskers. “Perhaps,” he allowed.
    As though in reply, the bell rang again. Was it Olivia’s imagination, or was it somehow ringing harder now?
    “Somebody needs to answer it.” This, naturally, came from Cook, who would not go upstairs. “Even if to tell him we won’t fetch him his drink.”
    Suddenly everyone was looking at Olivia . “Oh, no,” she said. “As Mr. Jones has pointed out, I am too new to take a hand in these matters.”
    “But it’s your plan,” Vickers said. “ You’re the reason we haven’t answered him.”
    She scowled. They cared for the duke; she did not. Indeed, that thought felt like an anchor, holding her steady against their imploring looks, which, like a strong current, threatened to bear her straight into stormy waters. “He and I have not even been introduced. Surely, Mr. Vickers, it is you who—”
    Jones stood. “Come, then. Let us go together, so I may introduce you properly.”
    Vickers mimed a tip of an invisible hat. “It was a pleasure to know you both.”
    *  *  *
    As Jones opened the door to the duke’s sitting room, the hinges squeaked. Olivia stood close enough behind him to sense how he flinched. His nerves proved contagious; she found herself holding her breath as she crept across the carpet in his wake.
    She never should have interfered. What did she care if the staff failed to defend their own dignity? If they were at peace with their master’s savagery, so be it; let them indulge