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

any distractions while he worked on his memoirs, as he'd
explained when he wrote to his solicitor in London, asking him to
find a secretary. Of course, he could have hired a man and removed
any chance of such distraction. Abraham Chalke, however, had highly
recommended this woman— the daughter of an old friend— and sworn to
her absolute trustworthiness. At first, True wasn't certain about
the idea of a parson's widow. She may be too prudish for the story
he had to tell, but Chalke had insisted she was the best he could
get, and the only one willing to leave their life behind for six
months.
    The solicitor had also mentioned Mrs.
Monday's difficult financial circumstances, and True was glad the
fee would go to somebody who really needed it. Remembering his own
humble start in life, he liked to give a hand up whenever he could,
to those deserving and in difficulties.
    "She boldly expressed her approval of
the former wife's retaliation against your portrait in the hall,
sir," Sims complained. "The woman also appeared annoyed that you
would not see her at once. As if she was entitled to an audience on
demand. But I set her straight and she will soon learn her
place."
    "Very good. Thank you,
Sims."
    True had not bathed or changed since
his ride along the beach at sunset and he was in no fit state to
greet a female guest. He hadn't even shaved that day. A properly
raised lady would be appalled by the sight of his scruffy cheek,
untucked shirt and grimy riding breeches.
    But when the butler left the library,
True was seized by a sudden idea. Perhaps it was the fault of Sims'
strange behavior and those mischievous spirits he felt in the air,
but he was very eager to get a look at the new woman in his house,
this "opinionated" parson's widow from the tame, leafy lanes of
peaceful Chiswick.
    Time for a bit of fun. It was overdue,
actually.
    He removed his corduroy riding jacket,
rolled up his sleeves, ruffled his hair into an even worse state,
and went in search of his new employee.
    The old dear would be shocked
regularly anyway, he mused, once he began dictating his colorful
life story. True wasn't about to begin being bashful and polite.
May as well toss her in at the deep end and start as he meant to go
on. If she sank, he'd bundle her off back to Chiswick tomorrow. If
she swam, then he'd know she was right for the post.
     
    * * * *
     
    Olivia had put together a small plate
of cold food for herself and sat at the kitchen table alone to eat
by the light of the fire and a solitary oil lamp.
    "Jameson, the handyman, will be in
shortly, as soon as he's carried your trunk up to the room," the
butler had muttered. "Be advised that he only takes orders from
myself or Mr. Deverell directly. He's not here to do your bidding.
And you'll have to unpack your own trunk. There are no maids about
the place. Don't expect to be pampered. Until recently Mr. Deverell
spent most of his time in London, so this house has never been
fully staffed."
    "Worry not, for I have no such
expectation. I've never been pampered in my life and at my age I
sincerely doubt anyone is going to start for me. Thank
goodness."
    He'd left her alone then, after
another stern glance and a stiff jerk of his head.
    The only sign of a cook was the food
left in the pantry, but perhaps they only came to the island during
daylight hours and did not care to be stuck here when the tide was
in. Understandably. She could guess this house was not a place one
stayed in for long, unless one had a great desire for isolation. Or
the need to hide away like a hunted criminal, as Inspector O'Grady
would no doubt point out. She frowned at her plate, as he crept
into her thoughts again. That odious fellow was like a bulldog with
a juicy bone and if he expected Olivia to sit around waiting while
he tried to build a case against her, he was very much
mistaken.
    Assessing her surroundings with a
quick eye, it occurred to her that there was no evidence of
children about the place, although