The New Moon with the Old Read Online Free PDF Page A

Suffolk,’ said the manager, coming forward to welcome the party.
    The Swan Inn – no inn now but a flourishing hotel – had presented many faces to the world during its four hundred years. Recently it had been returned to its Tudor period, so thoroughly that it looked a fake – and largely was, as regards its façade; but the interior still retained its beams and some panelling, and the Victorian furniture in the dining-room had not yet been replaced by Tudor reproductions. The Carrington party was escorted to a table for seven where an elderly waitress, who had been to school with Cook and Edith, gave advice about ordering lunch. Everyone drank sherry except Burly, who lapped water and then went to the kitchen for a meal of stewed steak.
    ‘A proper helping, none of your scraps,’ Cook insisted.
    Jane, as hungry as if she had missed breakfast, greatly enjoyed the meal. But, even more, she enjoyed the company; she found the relationship between the Carringtons and their maids so pleasant to watch. Cook and Edith, while still retaining their slightly bossy Nanny status, had been turned into honoured guests.
    Lunch ended and Drew persuaded them to join him in a liqueur. Jane refused one but was quite glad when it got ordered for her by accident. This outing was going to cost Rupert Carrington a pretty penny, she reflected, as Richard signed the bill.
    ‘And don’t forget the tip,’ Merry reminded him.
    ‘See you again next week,’ said the elderly waitress, as the party filed out.
    After the car containing Richard, Clare, the maids and Burly had driven off, Drew remembered Jane had no key to Dome House and gave her his.
    ‘We’ll all be home soon after six,’ Merry told her. ‘You won’t be nervous, will you, alone in the house?’
    Jane reassured her and started her walk back feeling cheerful. She was looking forward to exploring Dome House and thinking about the Carringtons. Still, as she entered the drive, she did wish some of them would be in for tea. Absurd, but she was already missing them – she who, as a rule, was so grateful for a few hours to herself. She heard the church clock strike three. Well, the afternoon would soon pass.
    Having let herself in, she tested her knowledge of the house’s geography. As she faced the stairs, the dining-room was on her right, with the kitchen at the back of it. The drawing-room, no doubt, would be on her left. She opened a door and found a formal, tidy room – neglected, she guessed, in favour of the hall. At the back, a door led into a study, presumably Rupert Carrington’s. The vast desk did not look as if much work was done at it; the housekeeping books and various bills were on a smaller desk, with her typewriter beside it. Sitting for a moment at the big desk, wondering what flowers she would put on it, she noticed the photograph of a beautiful, dark young woman. This must be the late Mrs Rupert Carrington; her eyes resembled Richard’s and her mouth, delicately sensuous, was very like Clare’s. Sad that she had known her children so little.
    Returning to the hall, Jane investigated a room at the back of it which had French windows on to the garden. To judge by the pictures and books, this had been a cross between a nursery and a schoolroom; she visualized those long wet afternoons when, according to Drew, the older Mrs Carrington had fostered a belief in her grandchildren’s talents. A family photograph showed her as a heavy, intellectual-looking womanwho managed to combine a resemblance to her handsome son with personal plainness. This room seemed as little used as the drawing-room, except as a store for garden furniture.
    Now for the bedrooms. Rupert Carrington’s, she knew, was over the drawing-room; Clare had shown it to her that morning but allowed no time for inspection. She went in now but found little to inspect – nothing suggesting the vital personality of the man who had engaged her. This felt like a spare room.
    Next door was a bathroom and,