His Convenient Mistress Read Online Free PDF

served informally in the breakfast room off the kitchen. His mother chatted inconsequentially about the luncheon party, amusing him with barbed remarks about village gossip and what was happening with whom and where. Normally, they would have retired to their favourite sitting area, the one which offered the most tantalising views. It would have provided a soothing and welcome end to a fairly hectic day, but James was in no mood to be soothed. His mother’s voice drifted in calm waves over his head but he was thinking. Thinking about what she had said earlier, her throwaway remark that their Rectory neighbour might prove to be as stubborn as the uncle she had clearly never met.
    The train of his thoughts made him edgy and he knitted his dark brows together in a frown, only realising his distraction when his mother said something which he was obliged to ask her to repeat.
    â€˜There is no need for the Rectory,’ Maria sighed. ‘Have I not told you this over and over? If the manor is converted to a hotel, I can simply live in a suite.’
    â€˜And share your dinner with the hotel guests?’ He gave her a brooding frown that arrogantly denied his mother doing any such thing. ‘Walk out into the garden so that you can join clusters of other people admiring the flowers? Have your evening drink brought to you by a waiter on his way to serve other people their evening drinks? I would rather,’ he rasped, ‘abort my ideas of converting this place than suffer you going through any of that.’
    â€˜Why do you think Miss King did not come to our littlelunch party?’ Maria asked, to change the subject, and he shrugged.
    â€˜Perhaps the thought of socialising with us all filled her little soul with terror. Although,’ he couldn’t help but add, ‘believe me, it would have been the other way around. She would have been the one filling their little souls with terror.’
    â€˜She made quite an impact on you, James, did she not?’
    â€˜I’ll let you know tomorrow,’ he said slowly, standing up and stretching. He raked his fingers through his hair and then turned to look at his mother.
    â€˜Why tomorrow?’
    â€˜Because I think I’ll head across to Miss King and find out for myself why she did not appear when I specifically invited her.’
    â€˜You were piqued, weren’t you?’ Maria asked slyly.
    â€˜Hardly. It’s simply that…I intend to buy her house and I won’t be able to dangle money at the end of the carrot in an attempt to persuade her. Whatever brought her rushing up here, it wasn’t poverty. From what I glimpsed of her possessions, at least the ones in the kitchen, she was not labouring under financial stress. So I shall simply have to dig deep into my reservoirs of persuasiveness to get what I want.’
    â€˜Does that not sound easy?’ Maria murmured to herself, her dark eyes speculative.
    â€˜So I shall see you tomorrow, Mama.’ He strolled to where she was sitting and kissed her once on each cheek, as he always had done ever since he was a boy, on his way back to boarding-school after the holidays, half longing to stay with his parents and enjoy his life in Scotland with the wide, open spaces around him, half longing to return to his friends with their boisterous camaraderie.
    He was under no illusions as he later drove across tothe Rectory. Sara King wasn’t going to welcome him in with open arms. She hadn’t the first time round, and she was going to be even less enthusiastic this time. Especially as it was after nine and he would probably have to drag her out of bed with his banging on the kitchen door. Neither prospect was sufficient to put him off the matter at hand.
    There were lights on, at least, when he pulled up outside and he killed the engine of the car, sitting inside for a few minutes before going out. Then he strode out, peered through one of the kitchen windows at the side just in