Nina Coombs Pykare Read Online Free PDF Page A

come down to Dover to harass me?”
    This seemed strange to Jennifer. Why should a viscount, who had obviously bested Ingleton in each of their encount-ers, bother to harass him? Such an insig-nificant mushroom as Ingleton - for in spite of his fancy clothes he was in reality still lower class - should be clearly beneath the notice of a viscount. Assuredly there was a mystery here.
    But Jennifer, wise in the ways of survival, judged that such mysteries were better left unsolved. And then, because there was little else to do and Ingleton could easily be repulsed should he get out of hand, she put herself to jolly him out of his dismals.
    In a short while even Mrs. Parthemer was laughing. And, Jennifer noticed, Mrs. Parthemer had managed to nibble away the quite considerable portions that Mr. Parthemer had deposited on her plate. When the dessert was brought in, she realized with rather a shock that she had actually been enjoying herself. Perhaps life at Seven Elms would be much better than she had expected. Mr. Parthemer was a dear jolly soul who in many ways reminded her of her Papa. Mrs. Parthemer, when she could be distracted from her illnesses, could be a lot of fun. And even Ingleton, in his ridiculous starched cravat, had contributed to the conversation.
    The girls, Cassie and Cammie, were definitely won over to her. Of course, Mortimer remained to be moved, but sooner or later he would respond. The only person in the entire household that Jennifer foresaw would cause her trouble was the sour-visaged Gibbons. But Gibbons, Jennifer was quite sure, would feel put upon and displaced no matter what the circumstances. However, she promised herself, since she preferred to live in peace and contentment, she would do what she could to alleviate Gibbons’s jealousy.
    Yes, she told herself, spooning up apple tart, life in the domain of Mr. Parthemer looked to be considerably less hazardous and considerably more fun than it had been in the purview of the Earl of Linden. She was well satisfied. Just let all the rake-shames like Haverford keep their distance from Seven Elms and she would count herself most fortunate. Most fortunate indeed.
     

Chapter Three
     
    Several days later Jennifer was not quite so optimistic. Mortimer proved to be a rather stubborn child. Just when she thought she had reached him, he would pull away, in fear almost. In fact it seemed that the better behaved the girls were, the more rebellious and stubborn Morti
    mer became. But Jennifer refused to despair. She had cracked harder nuts than Mor-timer in her time. And she would crack him.
    On this warm spring morning she had promised to take the children for a pony ride. Now, on their way to the stables, Jennifer had strong misgivings. Several years ago she had been an accomplished horsewoman, but she had not done much driving. Well, she told herself, probably Mr. Parthemer had bought a well-gentled pony. She would simply do her best.
      Beside her, Cassie and Cammie, their heads encased in diminutive bonnets to keep their complexions from the sun, endeavored to walk demurely, though now and then a little skip in their step gave evidence that they were very excited.
    “You see,” explained Cassie, “we’ve had the pony a long time. Since Christmas. But there’s been nobody to drive us.”
    “Why not?” asked Jennifer, rather certain that she wouldn’t like the answer. “Couldn’t one of the grooms drive you?”
    Cammie shook her dark head. “Mortimer was bad.”
    Ahead of them, Mortimer was out of earshot and so Jennifer asked, “Bad? How?”
    Cassie made a face. “He played tricks on the grooms. Put burrs in their beds - or frogs.”
    “I can see why the grooms did not like that,” replied Jennifer, carefully keeping all amusement out of her voice.
    “Yes,” agreed Cammie. “That’s not nice. He did it to me once.”
    By this time they had reached the stable and Mortimer was cavorting around the pony, much to the disgust of the grooms.