Garlands of Gold Read Online Free PDF Page B

into merry, very blue eyes in a face wide, well-boned and tanned with a broad and powerful nose, his chin strong, his grin wide and white-toothed, his hair dark brown and tumbling in curls about his shoulder. This then was Grinling Gibbons of the breathtaking skill with a chisel. ‘But please allow me to welcome you home.’
    ‘Indeed you may! We have never met before. Are you a cousin, friend or neighbour to be here in my parents’ absence?’
    ‘I’m Juffrouw Saskia Marchand, your mother’s personal maid.’
    He raised his eyebrows mischievously. ‘How fortunate for my mother! Allow me to present my friend, Robert Harting, born a citizen of England, but temporarily of Rotterdam.’
    She knew already from Nanny Bobbins that Robert Harting’s late father had been among Charles II’s most loyal army generals and had brought his young son with him when he had accompanied the king into exile. But that had been some years ago now and the boy had become a man.
    With a curious shiver, almost of apprehension, she knew instinctively that from the first moment Robert Harting had been watching her closely from under the wide brim of his hat. His black-lashed dark eyes were narrowed in a burning stare of such intensity that she put a hand involuntarily to her throat. She was momentarily unnerved by it, feeling gauche and awkward, and deeply resenting the way in which he was regarding her, a compressed line to his well-cut, experienced mouth that clearly knew its way in the world. Obviously it did not suit his stiff English pride to be presented to a servant of the household. He was not truly handsome, but he had an energetic and virile presence as if he could master any sport in the field or in the saddle. Then he surprised and annoyed her still further by sweeping off his hat and giving her an exaggerated bow far beyond anything remotely suitable for a household employee.
    ‘I’m honoured, mejuffrouw ,’ he said strongly.
    She inclined her head stiffly and then turned quickly away to give a greeting to the harassed-looking tutor, not wanting him to feel left out. ‘I bid you welcome back to Holland, mijnheer .’
    He acknowledged her words with a wearied nod. By now the housekeeper had come rushing into the hall. It was clear she had been taking a nap, her cap slightly askew and strands of her hair awry. She had brought other servants with her and Grinling was greeting them all as the men among them began assisting with the boxes. Saskia darted quickly down the remaining stairs and slipped away to the nurse’s room.
    ‘So they’re home,’ the old woman greeted her. ‘I heard the commotion.’
    ‘You are right,’ Saskia declared, throwing herself down into a chair where she swung her feet up and then down again in a rustle of petticoats. ‘Grinling is a fine young man and I retract what I said before. I do wish he could be for me, but –’ she added hastily, seeing the old woman’s frown – ‘he is out of my reach and I know it. I certainly would not want his friend, who clearly was offended by Master Grinling presenting me to him. He made a most mocking bow to me.’
    ‘You mean young Robert Harting, do you? Remember that he’s English and their ways are different from ours. Heer Gibbons thinks he keeps a thoroughly Dutch household here. Yet in the daily routine he has never let me take a place at his table whereas a Dutch master – unless it was a formal occasion – would happily sit down to eat with loyal servants and never think himself lowered by it.’
    Saskia gave a nod. ‘My English teacher, Mistress Seymour, told me all about life in a grand house in England. I don’t think I should like it there.’
    The old woman gave her a sharp look. ‘But you must make the best of it when the time comes. I believe that sooner or later Heer and Vrouw Gibbons will return to England, even though they have lived here all their married lives.’ She paused, seeing Saskia’s startled expression. ‘Why else do