The Man Behind the Mask Read Online Free PDF

snow, with a fresh shimmering fall ofdelicate white descending before her very eyes, she had to draw on every ounce of resolve not to be downcast. During the night she had made her mind up about something, and today there was plenty to occupy her towards implementing that decision.
    Donal’s adult children—Michael and Victoria—had con tested the will that he’d made, leaving his house and all his belongings to Marianne. For nearly eighteen months she’d endured formal, aloof and cruel letters from their solicitor, stating the reasons for their dispute and insinuating that both she and their father had not been of sound mind, and now she had had enough. They could have the house and everything in it. She would leave it to them without a backward glance or a single regret.
    She was certain Donal would forgive her. Everything he’d done for her in helping to restore her low self-esteem and encouraging her to believe in her talents and abilities she totally appreciated, but the truth was Marianne did not want to be beholden to anyone any more. Not even her deceased husband. She needed to be free again…free to live her life the way she chose— however that looked to anyone else. So, from the house she would take just her clothing, her guitar, and what little savings she had put by. Everything else—even the gifts Donal had bought her during their short-lived marriage—she would leave to his avaricious children.
    Galvanised into action, she spent the day cleaning the house, restoring stray books to shelves, packing up her things and moving furniture back to where it hadbeen when she had first moved in with Donal. Her body throbbed with satisfying warmth from a job well done, and she was too physically tired to allow even one negative thought to invade her mind. And that night… that night she slept like a baby.
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    But when she woke the next morning to find that the snow still hadn’t cleared, and with no prospect of getting into town to play her guitar and sing—knowing she would be mad even to try—Marianne impulsively found herself searching for the business card Eduardo de Souza had insisted she take. Lifting the telephone receiver in the hall, she dialled his home number with shaking fingers. Even as she dialled she called herself all kinds of fool for contemplating such a reckless path.
    But she could be snow bound for days, she thought, genuine dread invading her as she waited for someone to pick up at the other end. And now that she’d made the decision to leave and forge a new life, a new future, she was eager to put the past behind her and start again. Something had to be done to help improve her situation besides overcoming her fear of performing in public and accepting that she was now on her own again. Unlikely as it seemed, this might, just might , be it.
    â€˜Hello?’ an accented male voice answered.
    â€˜Is that Mr De Souza?’ Marianne ventured, her heart beating like a military tattoo.
    â€˜No. May I ask who is calling?’
    It must be his valet, she realised, and taking a deepbreath she said clearly, ‘Marianne Lockwood. Is he available to speak?’
    After a pause the man replied, ‘Wait a moment, please. I will see.’
    There were several times after the man went to locate his employer that Marianne almost put the phone down. What was she doing? she asked herself. She didn’t know the first thing about being a house keeper, and neither did she know what kind of an employer Eduardo De Souza would turn out to be. No doubt he would be overly serious and exacting, finding constant fault should she fail to measure up, examining her with that intense stare of his and making her rue the day she’d made the impulsive decision to go and work for him.
    Yet beneath the cacophony of doubt and apprehension that raged inside her, a stronger more positive instinct was urging Marianne to go for it and give it a