The Bride's Necklace Read Online Free PDF

thinking he meant to return to where Claire continued to work, then snapped it closed when she saw he was heading, instead, downstairs. Chuckling to himself, he made his way toward his study. Behind him he could hear her sigh of relief.
    Cord just smiled. He wasn’t sure what to make of either of the two young women, but one thing was certain. His life hadn’t been dull since the moment they arrived.
     
    Tory rose early the following morning. As befitted her status as housekeeper, her below-stairs room just off the middle hallway was large and surprisingly pleasant, with a well-furnished sitting room and a bed with a comfortable mattress and pillow. A porcelain basin and pitcher painted with lavender flowers sat on the bureau against the wall, and pretty white muslin curtains hung at the half windows.
    Tory poured water into the basin, completed her morning ablutions, then walked over to the black skirt and white blouse that were the uniform she wore each day. She frowned as she picked up the clothes, realizing these weren’t the ones she had hung beside the door last night.
    Instead, these were freshly laundered, smelling strongly of starch and soap. They crackled as she took them off the hook, so stiff they looked as if they were fashioned of pieces of wood instead of the soft cotton fabric they had been sewn from.
    Sweet Mother Mary! Of all the childish… Tory cut herself off, ending her silent tirade before it had actually begun. She didn’t know which of the staff had done this, though Mrs. Rathbone, the most senior of the staff, seemed the most likely. Her dislike of Tory was a clear case of jealousy, but it didn’t really matter. All of them resented her. They probably spent half the morning devising ways to make her quit. They didn’t know how badly she needed this job, how desperate she and Claire were for money.
    They didn’t understand it was possible they might even be fugitives from the law.
    At least they seemed to have accepted Claire. Butthen, Claire was so sweet and generous nearly everyone did. It was Tory they considered the problem, the one they needed to get rid of. Still, no matter what the others believed, no matter what they did to her, she wasn’t going to quit.
    Gritting her teeth, Tory pulled the blouse on over her shift and shoved her arms into the sleeves, stepped into the skirt and fastened the tabs, the garments crackling with every move. The blouse scratched under her arms and the collar chafed the back of her neck.
    She knew how she sounded, snapping and popping with every step. As she passed a gilded mirror in the hallway, she discovered how awful she looked. The sleeves of the blouse stuck out like wings and the skirt poked out front and back like a stiff black sail.
    “What in God’s name…?”
    Tory froze at the sound of the earl’s deep voice, turned to see him striding toward her, dark eyebrows raised in disbelief. Dear sweet God—of all the rotten luck! Didn’t the man have anything better to do than lurk around the hallways?
    Cord stopped in front of her, leaned back and crossed his arms over the very impressive width of his chest.
    “Perhaps, Mrs. Temple, when you were asking me all those housekeeping questions the other day, you should have asked my advice on how to manage the laundry. I might have suggested you consider using a bit less starch.”
    Tory felt the color rushing into her cheeks. She looked like a complete fool in the ridiculous garb, which was perhaps the reason the earl looked even more handsome that he had the day before.
    “I am not in charge of the laundry, my lord. However, I assure you that in future, I shall see that more care is taken in the training of your staff in that regard.”
    A corner of his mouth curved up. “I would think that a very wise course.”
    He made no move to leave, just stood there grinning, so she simply stared back at him and lifted her chin. “If you will excuse me, my lord.”
    “Of course. I imagine you have airing