Someone to Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

faster, he knew he’d made the right choice when he put on a sweatsuit. A run around his seventy-two acres would be good for him.
    “It’s late, but I think I can still make you a breakfast,” Mrs. Browne said.
    He looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8:05 in the morning. “That would be kind of you.” He took a seat at the big table in the center of the room. “Where do you live?” He knew there were two apartments in that wing of the house. He was told that the housekeeper lived in one but the other one was vacant. He wanted to be sure he didn’t accidentally wander into Mrs. Browne’s private territory.
    She had her back to him at the Aga and when he saw her stiffen, he knew she’d taken his question the wrong way. “Do you mean to evict me?”
    “Throw out Jamie’s girl? How could I do that?”
    She rewarded his jest with a bit of a smile and a platter of food: three sausages, three fried eggs, broiled mushrooms and tomatoes, and two thick slices of fried bread. It was accompanied by a pot of tea strong enough to float fishing weights.
    Jace looked up at her in astonishment. “This is from Jamie?”
    “No, that’s a good English breakfast. But if it’s too much for the likes of you…” She reached out to take the plate away.
    Jace stopped her. Living alone, he tended to eat a boring bowl of cereal for breakfast, but since he’d slept through dinner last night, he was ravenous. “I’ll manage,” he said, picking up his fork.
    “See that you do. You’re a mite thin to be livin’ in England.”
    Jace looked at her back and thought that no matter what he accomplished in his life, to Mrs. Browne he’d always fall short because of where he was born. The food was delicious. It was high calorie, cholesterol laden, and bad for him, but wonderful tasting. “So where do you live?”
    “Across the way,” she said, waving her hand in the general direction of “outside.”
    Jace wanted to ask more, but just then Mrs. Browne saw a girl walking through the courtyard.
    “There that dratted girl is again! Mark my word, she’s stealin’ raspberries. That old man Hatch says the birds get ’em, but I think they’re in it together. She’s sellin’ ’em is what I think. If I ever catch her, I’ll sack her.” With that, she bustled out of the kitchen, running for the outside door. Minutes later, Jace saw her running across the courtyard after the poor girl, who seemed to be guilty only of shaking the dust out of a rug.
    Jace took the opportunity of Mrs. Browne’s absence to look about the kitchen. There were three doors in it; one was the entrance, so he looked at the other two. One door led to a room full of cabinets and a sink. A quick glance showed him the cabinets were full of dishes. None of it seemed to be the “good” china. No names like Herend or Spode or even Wedgwood were on the bottoms, but there was enough that he could give a dinner party for a dozen or more. If I knew anybody, he thought.
    He stepped back into the kitchen, saw that Mrs. Browne was still bawling out the poor cleaning girl, then he went to the other door. It was a pantry with three skinny windows on one wall and slate shelves on the other. Cans, bags, and boxes filled the shelves, as well as jars of homemade jams and pickles. There was a big jar labeled “peaches in rum” that looked interesting.
    “I’m turning into an alcoholic,” he said, then at a sound, he looked out the narrow windows. The view was almost obscured by strings of herbs and sausages, but he was looking at the entryway into the courtyard. Interesting, he thought. No one could enter or leave that Mrs. Browne, enthroned in her kitchen, wouldn’t know about. He saw her hurry through the opening, but she turned left into a narrow door. “Her apartment,” Jace said, smiling and feeling that he’d solved a mystery.
    When she returned to the kitchen, Jace was back at the table, finishing his platter of breakfast. He looked at her for praise, but she