The Tutor's Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page B

hall’s darkly paneled walls were hung with crossed swords and shields.
    Sir Giles led the way over the flagstone floor to an open door across the hall. “Do come into the drawing room here.” He turned to his wife. “My dear, would you mind terribly calling for tea and something to eat? I am certain Mr. and Miss Smallwood must be hungry after their long journey.”
    Lady Weston’s smile was brittle. “Very well, my dear.” She turned back. “Any preference as to which rooms I have made up?”
    Sir Giles appeared embarrassed, no doubt wishing he might have spared his guests the realization that no rooms had yet been prepared for them. He escorted the Smallwoods into the drawing room, gave them another apologetic look, and asked them to excuse him for just a moment.
    Even though Sir Giles closed the doors behind him, Emma heard a few words of the tense conversation beyond.
    â€œÂ . . . north wing.”
    â€œNo way to foresee . . .”
    â€œÂ . . . nothing about a young woman . . .”
    â€œFor now.”
    A moment later, Sir Giles stepped back into the room. Emma pretended to study a framed map of Cornwall on the wall.
    Sir Giles smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Tea and refreshments shall be arriving soon. Might I offer either of you a glass of something while we wait?”
    â€œI wouldn’t say no to a cheerful glass,” her father said.
    Emma added, “I shall wait for tea, thank you.”
    Sir Giles unstopped a crystal decanter and poured two glasses of brandy. “I imagine it has been quite a taxing day for you. First the journey, then a slapdash reception. I do hope to make it up to you.”
    John Smallwood said, “Think nothing of it. We only hope we did not presume in coming.”
    â€œNot at all. Not at all. I am only surprised and delighted you would come.”
    â€œBut . . . did you not receive our letters in reply?”
    â€œOh . . . uh . . . yes. But, well, they reached me at a busy time, and I’m afraid I was not able to give them my full attention. But all shall be taken care of now that you’re here.”
    Sir Giles carried a glass to her father, then said, “You will be glad to know we have not neglected the boys’ education entirely. The local vicar has been tutoring them in Latin and Greek, so they are not complete savages.” He chuckled awkwardly.
    Her father smiled. “I am glad to hear it.”
    Sir Giles carried his own glass to an armchair, where he settled himself comfortably against the cushions. “You mentioned Henry and Phillip.”
    â€œHow are they?” her father asked. “Will we be seeing them while we are here?”
    â€œYes. Phillip is away in Oxford, but he will return home at term end. Henry has just left for a few days on . . . em, family business, but he shall be returning soon.”
    Her father beamed. “Excellent.”
    Emma forced a smile, even as her stomach knotted at the thought.

Such a trip as we had into Cornwall. . . . If you could have followed us into the earthy old churches . . . and into the strange caverns on the gloomy seashore, and down into the depths of mines, and up to the tops of giddy heights, where the unspeakably green water was roaring.
    â€”Charles Dickens
Chapter 3
    E mma and her father were left alone to eat a light supper. Then the housekeeper appeared to lead them to their rooms, candle lamp in hand to light the way.
    â€œYou are to have rooms in the south wing,” Mrs. Prowse said as they crossed the hall to a simple Georgian staircase, another addition to the far older main hall.
    When they reached the half landing, her father paused, looking up. Emma followed his gaze as he surveyed the soaring ceiling striped by ancient roof timbers, massive and black as pitch.
    He asked the housekeeper, “How old is the manor?”
    Mrs.