The Ring on Her Finger Read Online Free PDF

back.”
    “Is my room close to yours?” Lucy asked hopefully.
    Even having just met Rosemary, she already liked her—with her frank speech and wry smile, it was impossible not to. It would be nice if Lucy had someone to talk to, to help her make the adjustments she was going to have to make over the next few days. Weeks. Months.
    Oh, she really didn’t want to think about it.
    “No, I live in the big house,” Rosemary said. “My room is next to Abby’s. The Coves travel frequently, and the child doesn’t sleep well. Someone needs to be there when she calls out.”
    Meaning the parents evidently couldn’t be bothered with that, Lucy translated, even when they were home.
    “But you won’t be alone out here,” Rosemary continued. “Max also lives in the carriage house.”
    Max, Lucy recalled. The car guy. She formed a quick impression of a wizened, little old man of German descent who knew auto mechanics backward and forward, and who tinkered under the hoods of everything on wheels, murmuring things like, “Hmmm... Hmmm... Ah hah! De problem, you see, iss viss da discombobulator intravector svitch, vich hass gone kablooey.” Except that he would probably use real car words and not discombobulator intravector svitch. But Lucy didn’t know any real car words. So sue her.
    Then another realization hit her: She’d be sharing her quarters with a strange little foreign man?
    “The top of the carriage house is divided into two apartments,” Rosemary told her. Lucy wondered how long it would take for the other woman’s psychic abilities to stop giving her the willies. “Max lives in one, and you’ll be staying in the other as part of the agreement with Dust Bunnies.”
    “So the Coves have lots of servants, huh?” Lucy asked, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. Just how many people was she going to have to deceive while she was here?
    Rosemary nodded. “They have Mrs. Hill to cook for them every day, and Mr. Cadogen, who cares for the stables.”
    Stables? Lucy thought. Just how many acres did the Coves have?
    “And there’s also Dimitri,” Rosemary continued, “who comes a few days a week to see to the grounds. A few others. But it’s only me and you and Max who actually live here on the estate.”
    A second building came into view, which Lucy concluded was the carriage house. She was immediately relieved. She’d be lucky if she ever met Max, because, like the Coves’ primary house, the carriage house was huge for a structure of its kind. It, too, was Tudor in design, and had it not been for the low-slung, cherry red, vintage roadster parked in front with its hood up, Lucy could have believed the building was still intended for housing carriages. Nowadays, it was clearly used as a many-car garage—and, of course, servants’ quarters. The doors spanning the lower level seemed to be original, claiming old-fashioned paned windows and filigreed handles to pull them open manually. Windows lined the entire length of the second floor, as well, where, presumably, her apartment and ol’ Max’s lay.
    All in all, the carriage house was charming. Like the big house, it was beautifully landscaped, bursting around the entire perimeter with fat fuchsia-colored petunias and cascades of purple clematis. Sweeping maples that were probably a hundred years old canopied the entire roof from each side of the building.
    Really, a fugitive from justice could do a lot worse for a hideout.
    “The apartment’s quite charming,” Rosemary continued as they approached the carriage house. “You should be very comfortable. So what is it you’ll be studying at university this semester?” she asked, switching gears effortlessly. “I think Mrs. Cove mentioned you’re working on your master’s degree in—”
    “John Donne,” Lucy piped up without thinking. “I’m studying, uh, John Donne.”
    “Oh, the metaphysical poets?” Rosemary said, clearly delighted. “They’re a favorite of mine. We’ll have much to