Sea Mistress Read Online Free PDF

décor, didn’t even see the good furniture and rich carpets. Her own home was palatial, the shipping industry was booming and that was a result of Bridie’s acumen rather than that of her husband.
    â€˜I apologize. I shall see to it, Mrs Marchant,’ Arian’s voice was soothing, controlled and for some reason it served only to incense Bridie so that she clenched her hands tightly together.
    â€˜If the mistakes continue I shall feel obliged to take my custom elsewhere.’
    â€˜That would be a great pity, we are the largest paper in these parts and any advertisement you should choose to place with us would find the widest of audiences.’
    Bridie flushed as Arian’s meaning became clear. Bridie placed little or no advertising in The Swansea Times . Come to think of it she couldn’t remember the last time she had put any business of that sort Arian Smale’s way. Arian clearly knew that and was making a point.
    Bridie rose to her feet, ‘I must be going.’ She drew on her gloves. ‘I apologize if I sounded a little harsh but . . .’ she shrugged.
    â€˜That’s your privilege as a reader of our paper,’ Arian spoke softly, ‘you are quite right to point out any errors we make, I’m grateful to you.’
    Was there an edge of sarcasm to Arian’s words? Bridie could not quite decide. When Bridie left the offices of The Times she stood for a moment looking back at the large, elegant building and she felt, uncomfortably, that she had come out of the encounter with Arian with considerable loss of face.
    â€˜Take me home.’ She snapped at the driver as she climbed into her carriage and closed the door impatiently behind her, the man was so slow, perhaps he was getting too old for the job. She sank back into the seat and pondered on the unsatisfactory direction that her marriage, indeed her whole life, seemed to be taking.
    Paul was in the drawing room; he was sitting, legs spread out before him, reading the paper. It was The Swansea Times .
    â€˜Not looking up the tide tables are you?’ She pulled off her gloves and threw them down on the well-polished occasional table beside her.
    Paul took his time looking up at her. ‘I am as a matter of fact. I’m sailing the day after tomorrow as well you know.’ He sounded irritated, he seemed quite often irritated by her these days.
    â€˜Where are the boys?’ she asked tossing aside her hat. Paul watched her, his eyes narrowed.
    â€˜With the new tutor, of course. I want them to go to a good school later on, in the meantime they need preparation, you must realize that, surely?’
    She didn’t reply and he spoke again, his tone revealing his irritation. ‘Can’t you let the maid take your things in the hall? Or else go up to your room to change, it’s not very seemly of you to be flinging your clothes about the drawing room.’
    â€˜ You talk to me about being seemly?’ Bridie was, for a moment, lost for words. Paul was an upstart, a self-made man while she was from a good family background.
    â€˜Why the question, do you think me so much of a peasant that I’m not able to discern what is seemly and what is not?’ He sat forward in his chair, any moment now they would be heading for a full-scale row. There had been too many rows lately.
    â€˜Of course not,’ her tone was conciliatory. ‘It’s just that I’m annoyed by the wrong information contained in that rag you’re reading, Arian Smale should be sure to get her facts right and I told her so to her face.’
    â€˜You seem to be handing out home truths left, right and centre lately.’ Paul subsided in his chair, it seemed he’d had enough of the matter as he put the newspaper deliberately close to his face, effectively shutting Bridie out.
    She suddenly felt lost and alone. ‘What’s happening to us, Paul?’ She was close to tears. He didn’t