True Story (The Deverells, Book One) Read Online Free PDF

heard her
first husband Freddy exclaim in his booming voice.
" Always walk with your head high and don't
you look down. Don't ever look down ."
    That was how he had walked too, with
his chest thrust out, a merry smile on his face for everyone he
met. And if, as often happened, he stepped in horse dung because he
didn't look where he was going, he'd shout, "Muck means luck, Mrs.
Ollerenshaw! See, we're coming into a bit of fortune soon, mark my
words."
    They never did, of course. No matter
how much horse manure he gladly stepped in.
    But his irrepressible high spirits had
not had enough time— during that brief, twelve-day marriage— to
wear out their welcome on her nerves, and since Olivia had never
seen Captain Freddy Ollerenshaw downcast, she followed his example,
keeping her own insignificant chin well raised.
     

Chapter Four
     
    "The secretary has arrived, sir," Sims
intoned with somber apology.
    The deep emphasis placed on
"secretary" had not escaped True's notice every time it was
uttered, but he had no intention of rising to the inquisitive
butler's bait. He made it a rule never to explain himself, nor did
he feel it necessary to defend his actions.
    Besides, if Sims suspected this woman
came to Roscarrock for some other, more pleasurable purpose, the
butler ought to realize by now — having seen her with his own two
eyes— that this was not the case.
    "She's here already?" True shoved a
mess of papers aside to look at his ledger and check the date—
something he never could find these days.
    "It is the thirty first,
sir."
    "Then she's bloody prompt."
    "Indeed, sir."
    "What did she do, fly here with her
own little wings?" he marveled with a low chuckle.
    Sims looked sorrowful. "The lady
assures me she is always punctual, sir. And I suspect she is, in
the same way that indigestion is prompt after bad
oysters."
    "You took a dislike to her
already?"
    "I'm not entirely certain what I took.
I shall let you see for yourself, sir."
    He leaned back in his chair. "I'm
intrigued. Where did you put her?"
    "Currently she is in the kitchen, and
I will prepare a bed in the old nanny's room if that is acceptable,
sir. She'll be out of the way there. Unless... of course... you
would prefer a room in your wing? Perhaps, for your purposes, that
might be more suitable?"
    True smirked, quietly amused by his
butler's continuing curiosity about the new arrival's role there.
"I'm sure the arrangements you've made will be adequate, Sims. I
wouldn't want to put you to any further trouble." He held out his
empty brandy glass for a refill, and the butler turned away to
reach for the decanter.
    But when the old fellow's white-gloved
hand picked up the sherry instead of the brandy, True knew his
faithful Sims was definitely in a perturbed state of mind.
Muttering something low to himself, shaking his grey head, the
butler replaced the sherry and hurriedly took up the correct
decanter, making the stopper rattle, crystal chinking against
crystal and setting True's teeth on edge.
    Sims didn't generally do a lot of
hurrying and he didn't make mistakes.
    The quiet, still evening suddenly took
on a new air. The spirits of the house were playful tonight, as
they hadn't been for a while. Stirred up, one might call
it.
    "What's she like then?" True demanded
of the butler, his interest piqued.
    Sims considered for a moment and then
said, "Small, but...sturdy."
    "Is that the best you can
do?"
    The butler poured both the brandy and
his words with equal caution. "The woman is much as promised in Mr.
Chalke's letter. Mostly."
    "Excellent." True had specified that
she be plain and have a neat hand.
    "She asked to see you, sir, but I told
her you would not want her until the morning." Sims had half turned
toward the door, but now he hesitated, hovering.
    "What else?" True demanded. "Something
wrong?"
    "I must say, she seems a
trifle...opinionated."
    "Opinionated?" That certainly wasn't
one of his requirements. She'd better not be trouble. He didn't
want