Forbidden in February Read Online Free PDF Page B

down to the middle of her back. The way she’d scraped her into a tight chignon, all those lighter ends had been tucked away.
    She handed him the plate, which he accepted with a thank-you, and proceeded to place one sandwich on a plate for herself.
    He lifted a brow in question and she gave a small shrug. “I’m used to eating smaller meals.”
    Her statement surprised him. She was petite—much smaller than his own six-foot frame—but she wasn’t carrying any extra weight. “And why is that?”
    “We’ve had to be… frugal these past few months. But all that has changed now that you are here. When Mrs. Harris learned of your visit yesterday, she made sure to purchase enough food to stock the pantry.”
    “And you haven’t had that until now?”
    “No,” she replied without elaborating further.
    She looked almost embarrassed, but he couldn’t imagine why. Although… A thought occurred to him, one that left him feeling uncomfortable.
    “I met with Mr. Greaves this morning.” At her blank expression, he added, “My mother’s solicitor.”
    She took what could only be described as a careful sip of her tea before speaking. “You did mention your plans yesterday.”
    “He informed me that my mother hadn’t made arrangements for the upkeep of this house, which includes the salaries of the staff.”
    She met his gaze head on, but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking.
    “Can you explain, Miss Durham, how it is I still find you here?” At her small wince, he realized she’d mistaken his question. “I don’t mean just you, of course. I mean the entire staff. Walters and Mrs. Harris were loyal to my mother and are almost like family to me, but surely they couldn’t afford to remain here without a salary.”
    Isabel looked down at her hands, which he saw were clenched in her lap. Her knuckles were white, telling him just how tightly she gripped them.
    “I came to know your mother quite well during the year I cared for her. She always talked of your return as though she expected you to walk through the front door at any moment.”
    She was merely relating facts, but she couldn’t have pierced his guilt any better if she’d come straight out and accused him of being a bad son. He looked away from her but not before she saw his reaction.
    “I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to criticize. I only meant to relate why I think she didn’t make provisions for the rest of the staff. As for myself… well, she knew that once she was gone I would have no means with which to support myself—not that she ever expected it to happen. She’d always been healthy, she said, and expected to improve.”
    He didn’t know if that was true given how she’d written to tell him the end of her life was imminent. Of course, it was also likely that she never truly believed it was but was merely using her illness as a means to get him to return. It would be impossible to tell which was the truth with his mother.
    “And you’re telling me this because…?”
    She gave a small huff of impatience. “Because that could be the only reason why she would have left me a small amount of money and nothing for everyone else. She knew I would have to leave, but thought you would be here to take care of the rest of the staff. She never would have left them with nothing otherwise.”
    Her vehement defense of his mother told him that what he’d suspected was true. He examined her closely as he said, “You’ve been paying their salaries and for the upkeep of the house.”
    He saw the truth written clearly on her face before she nodded. “Yes.”
    He wanted to swear, but didn’t. Before his meeting with his mother’s solicitor that morning, a part of him had wondered if Miss Durham had been taking advantage of his absence. Continuing to live in his mother’s house and drawing a salary when her services were no longer required. But the opposite was true. She was using her own money to ensure that the house and its staff were