The Colonel and His Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page A

seemed to have taken to her, he’d gone to the top of the list.
    The Colonel never did answer her question about tea, so Trudy took it upon herself to go out to the kitchen and put the kettle on. She knew he was partial to a cup of Earl Grey at eleven o’clock, but he’d have to make do with Typhoo at ten to.
    “What do you think, Roger?” he asked, leaning forward to address the dozing dog in the armchair.
    Roger half opened his eyes. Potts had always supposed that dogs thought rather a lot. They always seemed to him to be thinking and Labs tended to be more thoughtful than most.
    Wellington seemed to have less than a dozen thoughts in his head. Most of them revolved around food. And he was awfully fond of Trudy.
    The doorbell rang, Roger sat up and barked ferociously, then settled back down again, put his head on a cushion and went back to sleep.
    “I’ll get it,” Potts called out.
    He opened the door expecting to find every member of the ladies club huddled in the storm porch, but there was only Blinking, beaming all over his face and clutching a hymn book.
    “Better get an extra cup, Trudy,” Potts called out. “Vicar’s here.”
    “Diana said I’d find you here,” Blinking explained. “As you may know, I make it a rule to have a little pre-nuptial chat with my intendeds.”
    He sat on Roger and was growled at before moving to the small sofa to sit beside Potts. It was a bit of a squash, but with a little manoeuvring, a few digs with elbows and numerous apologies the two men were wedged in.
    “That black armchair,” Potts whispered. “A mistake with a black Labrador.”
    “Mistake?” Trudy said as she came in with the tray. “It was no mistake. It doesn’t show the fur.”
    “Doesn’t show Roger either,” Potts chuckled.
    “Maybe if you wore your glasses . . .” Trudy began, then realised that they were already beginning to sound like an old married couple. Bickering good naturedly over trifles.
    “Have you given any thought to hymns? Love Divine is always a popular choice for weddings,” Blinking said.
    “We’re not planning to set a date yet,” Trudy gasped.
    “We may decide on a long engagement,” Potts said.
    “Very long,” Trudy muttered.
    “I can’t tell you how excited the whole village is about your news,” Blinking said with a wholesome smile. “The Colonel and his cleaning lady. It’s like a fairy tale, don’t you think?”
    Potts caught Trudy’s eye as he raised his cup to his lips. There was such a twinkle in them that it made her catch her breath. She’d always known he had a charming streak and she’d have had to go round with her eyes shut to miss the summer sky blue of his eyes, but now she was seeing him in a completely new light.
    “Poor old Bernard isn’t so delighted though,” Blinking added thoughtfully. “I think he was hoping you’d be the sixth Mrs Chumley. You’ve broken his heart, Trudy.”
    “Humph!” Potts snorted and added under his breath. “What heart?”
    “Well I did nothing to encourage him, Vicar,” Trudy said. “Quite the opposite.”
    “I’m afraid I must be making tracks. I promised Diana I’d go shopping with her this afternoon,” Potts said, struggling to unwedge himself from the tiny sofa. Reverend Blinking gave him a helpful push and he popped out of the seat like a cork from a bottle and didn’t stop until he hit the mantelpiece.
    “I should go too,” Reverend Blinking announced, rising to his feet. “You haven’t forgotten the flowers for Julia’s wedding?”
    Another lie. “Of course not.”
    Five minutes after Reverend Blinking had gone a lorry pulled up outside.
    Van Der Plonk flowers. Delivered fresh to your door from the nurseries in Holland. Fresh. That was the trouble. She’d completely forgotten about Julia’s aunt and her imagined allergies.
    She raced outside as the delivery driver stepped from his cab. He was about seven feet tall, blonde and rather beautiful.
    “Flowersh for Mishush Benshon,”