Wendy Soliman Read Online Free PDF Page B

the time he regained control, he’d drawn to a halt at the front of the steps. To his considerable surprise, no groom or footman came running to take the horses, nor did the front door open to offer him admittance. Felix scratched his head, wondering what sort of hotel left arriving guests to fend for themselves. With a resigned sigh, he alighted from his curricle, leaving it where it stood. The horses fell to cropping an untidy patch of grass to the left of the steps, which Felix ascended, still expecting at any moment to be greeted with a profusion of apologies for the delay.
    No one appeared.
    He rang the bell…
    And waited.
    He’d rung three times before the door finally creaked open — but no one was there. It was a moment before a movement caused him to glance downwards…which was when he observed two small heads sporting identical red curls glancing curiously up at him.

    Saskia Eden’s day started badly and was getting progressively worse. She had risen at her habitual early hour, only to enter the kitchen and find it completely deserted and as cold as the grave. Not only had that wretched new girl allowed the range to go out, in spite of Saskia’s dire warnings as to the consequences if she were careless enough to permit such an eventuality, but she’d obviously overslept as well. Saskia had to waste precious time raking over the ashes in the damned range and coaxing it back to life. Then, stepping into the kitchen garden, she’d been horrified to discover that the coop door had been left unlatched and a fox had killed one of their precious hens. That new girl again!
    Saskia restored order, holding on to her patience by the merest sliver, and breakfast had somehow been served on time. But now she was about to serve afternoon tea, only to discover that the new girl, trusted to bake scones on cook’s one precious afternoon off, had carelessly allowed them to burn. It was the last straw, and Saskia was seriously beginning to wonder if the girl had been planted in the house deliberately, to exacerbate the demise of their business. Goodness only knew, her father had tried everything else.
    She dismissed the idea almost at once, feeling slightly guilty. Betty was a little simple, that was all, and her family had been pathetically grateful that she’d been given this chance of employment. Huh, what choice did they imagine that Saskia and her aunt had in the matter? After all, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Saskia’s father had effectively banned anyone half-decent from working at Riverside House, and he wielded sufficient influence in the area to make people take his threats seriously.
    Saskia felt ready to explode as she acknowledged this truth, a familiar feeling of injustice fuelling her anger. How petty-minded could one man be when it came to getting his own way? It was, Saskia acknowledged, hardly a question she needed to ask herself, being well aware that he didn’t care to be bested by anyone, least of all his own flesh and blood. She’d long ago accepted that he was never likely to give up on her. It was her birthday soon. Doubtless she would receive a curt letter from him, just as she did every year, asking if she was yet ready to beg his forgiveness and return home. Welcoming the renewed sense of purpose that surged through her, Saskia squared her shoulders. Never!
    But was she being selfish? Look at the dire straits she’d reduced her beloved aunt to, through her stubbornness: she had burst uninvited into her well-ordered, comfortable household and turned it on its head. But the older lady had never uttered so much as one word of complaint. What’s more, she had refrained from asking Saskia any awkward questions about the circumstances surrounding her arrival and the rift with her father. Instead, she constantly reassured her niece that things would eventually improve. She wouldn’t hear of Saskia leaving, and insisted that she adored having her niece and the twins in her house, claiming they