Never Doubt I Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

assist you. There are far too many maids frippering away their time at Yerville Hall. I have promoted one to your service. She is not superior, but she has been well trained and knows what is expected of my servants. Here is my room. I shall rest now and do not require to see you again until a quarter to eight o’clock, at which time you may scratch upon my door.”
    The wide-brimmed hat nodded dismissal, and with a hushing of her satin skirts my lady sailed through the door the host threw open for her. Zoe heard a female voice enquiring solicitously after madam’s venture into the wilds, and the host closed the door upon Lady Buttershaw’s tersely uttered, “Just as I thought. Crude and primitive!”
    The next door was flung open. As Zoe passed inside the host’s eyes twinkled at her with amused understanding, and she smiled appreciatively. The chamber was small but cosy, immaculately clean, and with a fine four-poster bed.
    A tall, severe-looking woman rose from the window seat where she’d been sewing, and came to make her curtsy. “Good evening, Miss Grainger,” she said in frosty and affectedly precise accents. “Ay am Gorton.”
    Zoe’s heart sank, but she said brightly, “Then you are my abigail. How nice that will be.”
    Eyes of a chill blue slid over her. A faintly aghast look dawned.
    Zoe sighed. “Oh dear. Am I quite hopeless, Gorton? I am from the country, you know. This is my best travelling gown. I had thought it would be perfectly suitable for London.”
    â€œNever mind, Miss,” said Gorton, repressing a shudder. “Ay feel sure we can—ah, improve matters.”
    An hour later, Zoe was forced to acknowledge the truth of that statement. Her gown had been removed and whisked away. Her hair had been brushed until her scalp tingled, then arranged into soft curls. Her corsets had been laced so tightly that for several seconds she had been unable to draw a breath. An excitingly fashionable gown of pale peach ribbed silk had been slipped over her hoops. The stomacher had looked so tiny that she’d been quite sure it would never encompass her, but under Gorton’s ruthless assault it was secured at last. Surveying herself in the mirror while a dainty ruffled cap was placed on her shining hair, she could scarcely believe that the elegant young creature in the glass was Zoe Grainger, and when a simple gold chain and locket were added, she exclaimed an involuntary, “Oh, my! How nice I look! Thank you, Gorton!”
    Meeting her abigail’s glance in the mirror, she thought for a moment to glimpse a softening in the pale blue eyes, but the voice was as cool and detached as ever. “Ay tray to please, Miss.”
    It wanted fifteen minutes until seven o’clock, and Zoe was too restless to be confined to the small room for over an hour. She asked Gorton to find an appropriate shawl, and said she would take a stroll in the gardens.
    The abigail turned a surprised countenance. “ Outside, Miss?”
    â€œOf course. The air will be cool now, I fancy.”
    â€œBut—but ’tis getting dark, Miss Grainger! And we are in the wilds! It is not seemly! ”
    Zoe stared at her. “But that is silly! We are still in England and not lost in some snake-infested jungle. The shawl, if you please!”
    There was a touch of hauteur in the young face, and authority in the firm tones. Elsie Gorton realized that her new lady might be the “poor little lass” she’d mentally dubbed her, but she was not entirely lacking in spirit. Which would, she thought, be interesting.
    She opened the valise in which Zoe had packed the articles likely to be needed for the journey, and took out a white crocheted shawl exquisitely embroidered in pastel shades. Slipping it about Zoe’s shoulders, she said admiringly that it was “Very nace. Was it you as done the ’broidery, Miss?”
    â€˜The accent slipped,’