The Other Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page B

time now. Unless you think I ought to set my cap for Mr. Norris. He is a widower, after all.”
    â€œUgh,” said Alice with disgust. She fiddled with her teacup. “Is there—”
    Rachel rested her chin on her hands. “Any money? No.”
    She supposed she might be surprised, but she doubted it. Unless her mother had a pirate’s hoard hidden beneath the bed, the sum in her post office account had never been more than fifty pounds.
    Fifty pounds, a battered piano, and her gold watch. That was all Rachel had in the world.
    Only it wasn’t, she reminded herself fiercely. She had her own wits, such as they were. She was a hard worker. If she needed to, she could scrub floors, beat curtains. She wasn’t afraid of work, any more than her mother had been.
    Pushing her teacup aside, she said, “How quickly does Norris want me gone?”
    Alice looked down into her cup. “As soon as possible. When I pressed him on it, he said he imagined he could give you a fortnight—at a reasonable rate.”
    Which meant an unreasonable rate. “How very generous of him. So nice to know that chivalry isn’t dead.”
    There was an awkward silence. Alice pushed back her chair. “It’s nearly time for Annabelle’s tea. Please, come home with me.” In a falsely bright tone, she added, “Annabelle has been asking after her auntie Rachel.”
    Rachel rose, the muscles in her legs protesting. She felt stiff and achy and strangely lightheaded. “You mean that she’s hoping I’ve brought her a new dress for her doll.”
    â€œThat, too.” Alice paused, her hat in her hand. “You’re dropping on your feet. Stay with us for tonight. There’s a bed made up in the spare room; you can sleep as long as you like.”
    Rachel forced a smile. “With Jim blundering about, delivering babies?”
    â€œHe seldom delivers them in the spare room.” Alice shoved her hat onto her head. “I hate to think of you here alone.”
    â€œAre you afraid Mr. Norris will try to rent me out with the cottage?”
    â€œThat’s not funny.” But Rachel could see the hint of a smile there all the same. Alice had always been shocked and delighted by Rachel’s more outrageous comments. It was one of the many reasons they were friends. “Let me feed you supper, at least.”
    Making small talk with Jim? Rachel liked Alice’s Jim well enough, but she didn’t think she had it in her to fix a false smile to her face, to pretend nothing was wrong. All she wanted to do was sleep.
    â€œIf it’s all the same, I think I’ll have an early night.” One of her last nights in her own bed.
    Impossible to think that the room that had always been hers would soon be emptied of her possessions, like a stage set awaiting a new actress. Rachel shook her head. She shouldn’t be melodramatic. What was a house? A box filled with rooms.
    Resolutely, she said, “I’ll go down to Oxford in the morning. I ought to thank Cousin David. For making the arrangements.”
    And to ask how much she owed. Nothing, he would say. But she knew that the undertaker didn’t provide coffins for free, or violets, for that matter. She couldn’t let Cousin David bear the whole cost of it.
    How much of a dent would that make in her meager nest egg?
    No point in thinking of it now. She’d sell her watch if she had to. Rachel closed her fingers around it, feeling the engraving on the underside. To Rachel .
    â€œAre you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?” Alice was hovering, her coat over her arm.
    â€œYou’ve made me tea.” Rachel gestured to the anemic liquid in her cup, now cold as well as weak. When Alice still lingered, she added, “And you’ve reminded me that I’m not entirely an orphan. What more could I ask?”
    Alice didn’t need to be persuaded. Her thoughts, Rachel knew, were already