Hidden in the Heart Read Online Free PDF

mean, one makes the most of whatever’s offered.’
    ‘The Misses Digweed have informed us that there has been a rather ... unusual death in the vicinity of the woods hereabouts.’
    ‘Indeed.’ He nodded. ‘I make no doubt they made a pretty mess of it.’
    Lydia giggled. ‘I can hardly be sure whether the corpse is male or female.’
    ‘To tell you the truth,’ he lowered his voice, leaning his head toward her somewhat conspiratorially, ‘it was hard for anyone to tell much about it. Very nasty, I assure you.’
    ‘You have actually seen the body?’ She could not quite disguise the envy in her voice. Gentlemen always seemed to have more fun than ladies.
    ‘Oh yes,’ he said, not boasting but simply as a matter of course. ‘My father is Diddlington’s Justice of the Peace.’
    ‘Is he?’ She was surprised. ‘I had thought your father owned the Golden Cockerel.’
    ‘So he does,’ young Mr Savidge said. ‘But he’s also one of the wealthiest men in town. By rights, Sir Hector Mannington should be the JP, but he’s over ninety and not up to snuff any longer, poor man.’
    ‘And you say that the person who was murdered was unrecognizable.’
    ‘Seems to me,’ John Savidge said with slow deliberation, ‘that somebody wanted to make certain that he wasn’t recognized.’
    ‘How so?’
    ‘Well, the face had been smashed in with a large stone which was found nearby. Also—
    Here, their little tête-à-tête was interrupted by Mr Savidge’s father himself. Like his son, Mr Thomas Savidge was a large, beefy-handed man. But whereas the younger man seemed to have a rather placid disposition, the innkeeper was a loud, boisterous fellow whose voice could have substituted for a hunting horn. He immediately took over the conversation, paying outrageous compliments to Lydia which she took no heed of since it was clear that they were simply what Mr Savidge mistakenly believed to be proper etiquette in addressing young ladies.
    ‘You mustn’t prose on about horses or anything to this fair damsel, John,’ he chafed his son. ‘Don’t want her to be bored by idle chatter.’
    ‘We were discussing the murder,’ Lydia informed him.
    Mr Savidge frowned. ‘What a cod’s head you are, boy!’ he cried loudly, causing several heads to turn in his direction. ‘A fine thing to be filling a young lady’s head with night mares and such. You have no notion how to get on, my boy! Flirting: that’s the ticket.’
    ‘Oh, I do not mind at all,’ Lydia hastened to inform him. ‘I find it absolutely fascinating. And I assure you, I know no more of flirtation than your son does.’
    The innkeeper would have none of it, however. He continued to instruct his son in quite improper ways of dealing with the fair sex, until he was finally abducted by Mrs Wardle-Penfield and incarcerated at one of the card tables. Lydia and John were therefore free to resume their discussion.
    ‘Sorry about m’father,’ John muttered.
    ‘Oh, don’t be!’ Lydia said. ‘I thought him prodigiously amusing.’
    ‘He can be a little - overwhelming.’
    ‘I am surprised that his hostess can so easily control him,’ she answered with more truth than tact.
    ‘No trouble in that quarter.’ John chuckled. ‘Papa thinks Mrs P can do no wrong. Hopes to rise in society under her patronage.’
    ‘And you?’
    ‘Oh, I’ve no such ambitions.’
    ‘Thank goodness for that!’ Lydia was very pleased by her companion’s easy, unaffected manners. He neither was, nor considered himself to be of the gentry. It was most refreshing.
    ‘No use pretending to be what you ain’t. I may have been educated at Harrow, but I’m an innkeeper’s son and not ashamed of it.’
    ‘But tell me more about the murder,’ she persisted.
    ‘Whoever the guilty party might be,’ John told her, ‘they either had a grudge against the victim or didn’t mean for anyone to know his identity.’
    ‘But the victim is a man?’
    ‘Definitely.’
    ‘Horribly