If the Slipper Fits Read Online Free PDF Page A

They were so very tempting, and yet so impractical. “But where on earth would I wear such lovely shoes?”
    “There may be a ball or party at Castle Kevern. In the country, a governess is often expected to attend such events if there are not enough ladies to balance the guest list.” She gave Annabelle a critical look up and down. “In addition to traveling expenses, it appears you will need a clothing allowance to improve your wardrobe. One cannot appear a beggar when serving in the household of a duke.”
    From out of Annabelle’s swirling thoughts came one crystal-clear realization. “Does that mean … you’re hiring me?”
    A secretive smile touched Lady Milford’s mouth. “Indeed I am. I can think of no one more perfect for the post than you.”

 
    Chapter 3
    As the mail coach drove away, Annabelle stood beside her battered trunk and glanced around the deserted inn yard at the edge of the village of Kevernstow. Chickens pecked at the bare earth and a few horses grazed in a stone-fenced meadow behind the stables. The inn was little more than a two-story cottage with a thatched roof. A faded sign depicting its name, the Copper Shovel, creaked in the breeze.
    Where was the cart that was supposed to convey her to the castle? Before departing the academy on the day Annabelle had been hired, Lady Milford had promised to send a letter ahead making all the arrangements. But there was not a soul in sight.
    Grabbing hold of the leather handle, Annabelle dragged the trunk toward the inn. The action kicked up dust and soiled the hem of her gown. She felt stiff and weary after journeying for two and a half days, crammed inside a mail coach with an ever-changing array of travelers. More than anything, she longed to reach Castle Kevern. She certainly didn’t want to be forced to wait here for transportation.
    The inn door stood open. Pausing on the threshold, she rapped on the wooden panel while peering into the dim interior. A peat fire smoldered on the hearth, but no one sat at the scattered tables. Was the innkeeper napping upstairs? Had he gone on an errand in the nearby village? The arrival of the daily mail coach was surely an important event in such a remote area. So why wasn’t he present?
    “Hullo?” she called out. “Is anyone here?”
    Silence answered her. Leaving the trunk outside by the door, she went across the yard and peeked into the stables. The cool shadows held no sign of life, the horses having been turned out into the fenced pasture. Annabelle ventured behind the inn and found a yard bordered by the great dome of a hill. A patch of straggly vegetables grew in the sunlight, while laundry flapped from a rope strung between two large oaks.
    At the rear of the property, the door to the privy creaked open and a stooped old man stepped out. In the process of hitching up his breeches, he caught sight of her and came forward at a trot.
    “Missed the mail, did I?”
    “Yes, sir.” Annabelle pretended not to notice him tucking the homespun shirt into his waistband. Since this region was to be her new home, she deemed it sensible to make acquaintances. “Good afternoon, I’m Miss Quinn. And you are?”
    “Pengilly, miss.” Bobbing his head, the aging innkeeper gave a toothless grin. “Otis Pengilly.”
    He thrust out his hand and she shook it, thankful for her gloves. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pengilly. Would you happen to have seen a cart from Castle Kevern today? It should have been sent for me.”
    He scratched a thinning patch of gray hair. “Blaamed if I have.”
    Pursing her lips, Annabelle glanced up at the afternoon sun. If she tarried too long, she’d be forced to spend a few precious coins on a room at the inn. Hadn’t Lady Milford mentioned the castle was located only two miles from the village? “I’ll walk, then,” she said. “Can you show me the way to the castle?”
    Stabbing a knobby finger at a point beyond her shoulder, he said, “Take the path beyond the