The Flower Girls Read Online Free PDF

interesting.”
    “That would be fun, I like markets.”
    A journalist .
    If Poppy had been forced to guess his profession, a foreign correspondent would have been so far down her list as to fall off it. He didn’t seem the type at all. Not that she knew any journalists but she had a hazy idea of what they would be like. Generally, she admitted, her opinion was formed by the movies. But it did seem odd that someone who’d been at the very center of so many exciting events would settle for this! Of course his profession would be an attraction for Jasmine. Not only was he very attractive physically, he had a job that, in Jasmine’s view of the world, would make him exciting. What a prospect he must have seemed. But it also made him a man of the world; how come he didn’t see through Jasmine? She was a clever little manipulator but he wouldn’t be an easy victim. Far from it.
    He was prompt coming back for her. She hadn’t bought anything but had enjoyed browsing. She chatted amiably about what she’d seen and then allowed the silence to take over. Seth concentrated on the road and seemed somehow locked in himself. It wasn’t exactly an uncomfortable silence yet she would have preferred some kind of noise.
    When they reached York he dropped her close to the cathedral. She’d mentioned she’d like to see it.
    “I’ll be gone till about four; you’ll be all right?” he asked.
    “Of course.”
    “We can eat at a pub I know but if you’re hungry before then I know this lovely little café where—”
    “I don’t need anything. I’m fine really, please don’t worry.”
    “I’m not worried,” he said with a smile.
    He is odd , she thought.
    And just whom was he seeing? He’d not even given her a hint. He was hardly dressed for business, or maybe he didn’t have to care about that. He was comfortable in his own skin and would do things his way. That much she knew about him. He exuded a quiet confidence that was very attractive.
    * * * *
    It was dark when they arrived back. There was no traffic once they hit the back roads. The countryside was now and again illuminated by his headlights as he rounded a bend, sparse and mysterious.
    Dinner had been fun. Seth could be an engaging character; she was surprised that he could be such a charming man. He had a good sense of humor, something—she had to admit—that Jasmine often lacked. She wanted to ask him about Jasmine, about how they’d met, why they’d married. They were so different, but she felt it wasn’t her place to pry. When Jasmine eventually arrived doubtless she’d tell the whole story. One thing was certain. Seth didn’t seem the ogre that Jasmine had painted.
    Mrs. Carrington barged into the hall the moment they stepped inside. She had to have heard the SUV pull up.
    “He came to see Miss Lord,” she announced. Not to Poppy but to Seth Sanderson.
    “Oh really?” Seth’s smile was cynical. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
    “Someone came to see me?” Poppy queried.
    “Edward Donnington.”
    Ah, he’d known immediately who he was. Odd that.
    Poppy stared first at Seth then at Mrs. Carrington and then back to Seth. “Why should that be?” she asked at last.
    “He likes pretty girls,” Seth said.
    So you think I’m pretty.
    That was what toppled immediately into Poppy’s mind, and balanced precariously on her tongue, but she said nothing.
    “He’ll call again, I daresay.” Mrs. Carrington gave Poppy a dark look. Her brows met in a frown, disapproval seeping from every pore.
    “Well he needn’t bother on my account,” Poppy said, not really wanting Mrs. Carrington’s approval but not liking her disapproval either.
    There was no satisfaction. The woman merely shrugged and then swung away from them.
    “I need a drink,” Seth announced. “Care to join me?”
    She had a glass of wine with her dinner but she nodded and as he sauntered away followed behind him. At the door to the parlor he stopped, pushed the door open and stood