A Christmas Proposal. Бетти Нилс

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

      He smiled. ‘It’s a powerful brew. Wait there while I get someone…’

      Mrs Tyler came back with him. ‘Off you go, dearie. Everyone’ll be here for another few hours and you’ve done more than your fair share. It was good of you and the doctor to come.’

      ‘I liked Mrs Duke,’ said Bertha.

      ‘So did I. She’d have enjoyed this turn-out.’

      ‘Are you expected home?’ asked the doctor as he drove away.

      ‘My stepmother and Clare are at a picture gallery and then going to have drinks with some friends. I expect you’re busy—if you’d drop me off at a bus stop…’

      ‘And then what will you do?’ he wanted to know.

      ‘Why, catch a bus, of course,’ said Bertha in her practical way. ‘And have a cup of tea when I get home.’

      ‘Someone will have it ready for you?’

      ‘Well, no. Crook’s got the afternoon off and so has Daisy—she’s the housemaid—and Cook will have her feet up—her bunions, you know.’

      ‘In that case we’ll have tea at my place.’

      ‘It’s very kind of you to ask me, but really you don’t have to be polite. I’ve taken up a lot of your time, and you must have an awful lot to do.’

      He spoke testily. ‘Bertha, stop being so apologetic. If you don’t wish to have tea with me say so. If not, come back with me and discuss the funeral over tea and toast.’

      She said indignantly, ‘I’m not being apologetic.’ Her voice rose slightly. ‘I don’t care to be—to be…’

      ‘Pitied? The last thing you can expect from me, my girl.’

      He stopped outside his rooms and got out to open her door. She looked up at him as she got out and found herself smiling.

      Cully had the door open before they had reached it. He was introduced to Bertha and offered her a dignified bow before opening the sitting-room door.

      ‘We would like tea, Cully,’ said the doctor. ‘Earl Grey and hot buttered toast—and if you can find a few cakes?’

      ‘Certainly, sir. Shall I take the young lady’s coat?’

      He shuddered inwardly at the sight of the garish dress, but his face was inscrutable; he had until now had a poor opinion of any young ladies his master had brought home from time to time for the occasional drink or lunch, but this one was different, never mind the horrible garment she was wearing. He glided away to arrange cakes on a plate. Made by himself, of course. He didn’t trust cakes bought in a shop.

      Bertha, happily unaware of Cully’s thoughts, went into the sitting room with the doctor to be greeted by Freddie before he went to his master’s side.

      ‘How very convenient,’ said Bertha, ‘having your home over your consulting rooms. I didn’t know you lived here.’

      She gently rubbed Freddie’s head and looked around her. The room was very much to her taste—a pleasing mixture of comfortable chairs and sofas and antique wall cabinets, lamp-tables, a magnificent Georgian rent table under the window and a giltwood mirror over the fireplace. That was Georgian too, she was sure.

      She gave a little sigh of pleasure. ‘This is a beautiful room,’ she told him gravely.

      ‘I’m glad you like it. Do sit down.’ He offered her a small bergère, with upholstery matching the mulberry brocade curtains, and took an armchair opposite her. When her eyes darted to the long-case clock as it chimed the hour of four, he said soothingly, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll see that you get back home before anyone else.’

      Cully came in then with a laden tray. He sat everything out on a low table between them and slid away, but not before he had taken a good look at Bertha—nicely contrived from under lowered lids. His first impressions had been good ones, he decided.

      Bertha made a good tea; she was hungry and Cully’s dainty sandwiches and little cakes were delicious. Sitting there in the quiet, restful room with the doctor, whom she trusted and thought of as a friend, she was content and happy, and if their conversation dealt entirely with the visits she was to make to the nursery school she had no quarrel with that. She had been reminded so often by her stepmother and Clare that she was a dull companion and quite lacking in charm that she would have been surprised if the doctor had been anything else but briskly businesslike.

      She was to go each morning from eleven o’clock until half past twelve, if that suited her, he told her, and she agreed at once. It might be a bit awkward sometimes, if she was needed to take the dog out or to go to the shops on some errand for her stepmother, but she would worry about that if and when it happened; there was no need to tell him.

      ‘There are any number of books there; the children are various ages—two years to around four or five. You do understand that you need only read to them? There are plenty of helpers to do the necessary chores.’

      ‘I think I shall like it very much.’ Bertha smiled. ‘Every day, too…’

      He took her home presently, waiting until she had gone inside and then poked her head round the front door to tell him that no one was home.

      Beyond telling Bertha how fortunate she was that Dr Hay-Smythe had found her something to do, her stepmother asked no questions. It was inconvenient that Bertha had to go each morning, of course, but since he was almost a friend of the family—indeed, almost more than that—she complied. ‘Clare is quite sure that he’s in love with her, so of course we would wish to do anything to oblige him in any way.’

      So on Monday morning Bertha set off to go to the doctor’s rooms. She was to go there first, he’d told her. The nursery school wasn’t far from them and she would be shown the way and introduced to the matron who ran the place. She wasn’t to feel nervous about going, for Matron already knew that she would be coming.

      Mrs Taylor was at the rooms and greeted her with a friendly smile. ‘Just a minute while I get Dr Hay-Smythe—he’s in the garden with that dog of his.’ She picked up the phone as she spoke, and a few minutes later he came in.

      ‘I’ll walk round with you, Bertha.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve time enough.’

      She went with him down into the street and skipped along beside him to keep up.

      ‘You can take a bus to the corner,’ he told her. ‘Go straight there after today.’

      He turned down a narrow street and then turned again into a cul-de-sac lined with narrow, rather shabby houses. Halfway down he mounted the steps to a front door, rang the bell and then walked in.

      The hall was rather bare, but the walls were a cheerful yellow and there was matting on the floor and a bowl of flowers on a table against the wall. The woman who came to meet them was small and stout with a jolly face and small bright eyes. She greeted the doctor like an old friend and looked at Bertha.

      ‘So you’re to be our reader,’ she said, and shook hands. ‘We are so glad to have you—we need all the СКАЧАТЬ