Winter Is Past Read Online Free PDF Page A

Miss Althea.”
    Simon glanced at Althea’s kneeling figure. “Is that so? Well, I have an idea. Have you dined yet, Miss Breton?”
    She shook her head, taken unawares. “No, sir.”
    â€œWell, then, that’s it. We shall dine here with Rebecca and I shall tell you all about my trip—if you promise to finish up everything on your tray.”
    Before Althea could voice any objections, he rose and grabbed the bellpull.
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    When the maid appeared, Simon asked for a card table set up with two more supper trays. As these preparations were taking place, he excused himself to freshen up from his trip.
    He removed his coat and handed it to his valet, who had been unpacking Simon’s portmanteau.
    â€œFeels good to be home, doesn’t it?”
    â€œThat it does, sir,” answered the manservant, holding out his arm for Simon’s shirt and cravat.
    â€œThank you.” Simon bent over the washstand and soaked a washcloth. He realized he was humming. What he’d told Ivan was true. For the first time in a long time it felt good to be home. His house had known nothing but illness and death for what seemed forever. As he scrubbed his torso and neck he analyzed what was different.
    He pictured his daughter’s cheerful demeanor, her enthusiastic chatter. She certainly was looking good. Simon had felt a welcoming warmth as soon as he’d entered her bedroom.
    Perhaps Sky had been right in recommending his sister as Rebecca’s nurse. Simon remembered how it had come about. He hadn’t seen Sky in several years. They’d lost touch after university. As the second son, Sky hadn’t had many prospects, and he’d been wild in those days. His father, the Marquess of Caulfield, had finally said he’d pay no more of the young man’s gambling debts. Sky would have to make it on his own out in the Indies, managing one of the family’s lesser estates.
    Simon had run into Sky only a few weeks ago and found a wholly different man. Gone was the arrogant wastrel. In his place was a married man who radiated happiness and well-being. When he’d heard about Rebecca, he’d immediately launched into accolades of his younger sister, Althea. Told Simon she’d nursed him through a deadly tropical fever. Simon hadn’t even known Sky possessed a sister, and thought once again they didn’t look anything alike.
    Taking a towel and rubbing his face, he contrasted the two—Skylar with his tall, lithe body, and lean, dark good looks, and Althea Breton, of middlish height and golden-haired. She gave the impression, he considered a moment, of a quiet, composed creature but with an inner fire. He’d lay odds that she’d bitten her tongue more than once during their interview at his deliberately provoking statements.
    He still couldn’t figure out why she should wish to be a lowly nurse when she was a daughter of Caulfield. As long as she made Rebecca happy, it really didn’t matter, he supposed.
    He took the clean shirt Ivan handed him and pulled it over his head, then turned to his man to deal with the complications of a cravat. He himself had no patience with their intricacies. Finally he shrugged into the coat held out for him.
    â€œTake the evening off when you’ve finished here,” he told the valet as he exited the room. “You deserve it after the journey we’ve had.”
    He returned just as a footman and maid were finishing laying the table. Althea prepared a chair for Rebecca, and Simon carried her over to it.
    When the three sat down, Althea bowed her head. She heard Rebecca say, “Stop, we’re going to say grace.”
    Miss Breton said a short grace, as Simon sat with his spoon lifted in midair in one hand, the other tapping a rhythm on the cloth. She flushed when she noticed his position, and lifted her own spoon.
    â€œIsn’t it funny how Miss Althea blesses the food before the meal, and Grandpapa