Three Little Secrets Read Online Free PDF

starving artist to win such acclaim. Once you are rich, that is thought to be reward enough.”
    “Ah!” Wynwood’s tone was disconcertingly insightful. “And is it?”
    Merrick hesitated but a heartbeat. “Aye, you’re damned right it is.”
    “I see,” said Lord Wynwood. “Then you will have luncheon with me tomorrow at the Walham Arms, and give me a tour of the village?”
    “If that is your wish,” said Merrick, casually lifting one shoulder. “Meet me there shortly after one. And Wynwood, if you are serious—”
    “I am.”
    “Aye, then bring a bank draft. I am, as you say, a Scot.”
    Wynwood laughed again and melted into the mob which still surrounded his beautiful new wife.

Chapter Three
    If ye canna see the bottom,
dinna wade in.
    A fter residing in Walham Green all of a sen’night, Lady Bessett found that late morning in the pretty village had already become her favorite time of day. Shortly after daylight, the busy market garden traffic—the vegetable-laden carts rumbling into the city, the tumbrels heaped with hay, the crates of flapping, squawking poultry—all of it vanished into the fringes of London, leaving the little village on its outskirts blissfully serene.
    On this particular morning, the countess sat in the tiny rear garden of her cottage nibbling at tea and toast. She closed her eyes, and listened to the birdsong as she sipped the last of her cup. The scents of spring were redolent in the air—the smell of fresh-turned earth, and the fragrance of the season’s flowers. Yes, she could almost imagine she was back in Yorkshire again.
    She really did miss it dreadfully. She opened her eyes, and took in the tiny walled garden with its rosebushes, its neat little path, and the ancient swath of wisteria which rambled up and over the kitchen window. Since coming to this charming place, she had not allowed herself to think about Yorkshire—not until she had been required to explain her circumstances to Lady Treyhern.
    The truth was, however, the Yorkshire dales had been her home for just four short years. But in that time, she had come to love the vast, rich, rolling emptiness of the place. And she had come to love the freedom which widowhood had brought her. A newfound sense of self-esteem had slowly settled over her as Loughton Manor came back to life after long years of her husband’s absence and neglect.
    Perhaps more importantly, she had come to love Loughton and its people. They would miss her, she thought. Mrs. Pendleton had cried quite shamelessly as she and Geoff had climbed into the carriage for the long trip down to London. Even Simms, the old butler, had twice been compelled to blow his nose. Yes, they would miss her—and they were not pleased to be gaining a new mistress.
    The Earl of Bessett, her stepson Alvin, had chosen a wife immediately upon his majority. Unfortunately, he had chosen one of whom the staff was not fond. Miss Edsell was the daughter of a neighboring squire, and had often been a guest at Loughton. She had set her cap at poor Alvin early, and openly. She had made it plain, too, that things would change at Loughton when she became its mistress.
    For his part, Alvin wished only for a placid existence of farming and shooting. He was not unkind, but he was a little dull. So far removed was Alvin from the fervent, single-minded scholar his father had been, that people often marveled they were kin at all.
    Perhaps a childhood spent roaming through Italy and Campania had made Alvin long to put down roots. He wanted neither adventure nor travel in his life now. “And after all, Cousin Madeleine,” Alvin had said, “why go down to London for a season when a local girl will suit me well enough?”
    So he married Miss Edsell. Madeleine had helped Mrs. Pendleton supervise the washing-up after the wedding breakfast. Then she went upstairs to pack.
    Oh, Alvin had not asked her to leave. Indeed, he was fond of her—they were first cousins once-removed, and she had been