Phantom Lover. Rebecca York

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СКАЧАТЬ Was she expected to sleep in the servants’ wing? Bree wondered as she stood again.

      The woman turned to Dinah and issued an imperious order. “Take her upstairs.”

      Under ordinary circumstances, Bree would have vetoed giving such duties to a child. But she was glad she and Dinah were going to be alone soon. That would give them a chance to get acquainted. And they could talk in the schoolroom tomorrow.

      If the schoolroom wasn’t bugged. As that thought flitted into her mind she almost laughed. The idea of a bug in a six-year-old girl’s classroom was pretty farfetched. Yet the laugh died before it reached her lips.

      She knew that when the guys from the Light Street Detective Agency went into a covert surveillance situation, they were always prepared for bugs. And she’d better remember that things could be similar here. Helen had sent her to Ravencrest because neither one of them knew what the Sterlings had done, and what they might do to protect their position.

      Before she had time to consider the possibilities, she heard a door slam, then heavy footsteps pounding down the hall.

      Troy?

      The child’s face went white.

      A look of mixed fear and exasperation plastered itself across Nola Sterling’s features.

      All eyes, Bree’s included, focused on the hallway.

      Seconds later, a man burst into the foyer, a man whose face was flushed and whose glaring gaze lit on Bree.

      Chapter Two

      The man stood with his hands balled into fists and his arms bent, like a street fighter ready to take on a crowd. His hands were large—large enough to have created the pressure she remembered on her shoulder. The thought of his having touched her made Bree’s stomach knot. Yet it couldn’t be him, she told herself. He didn’t smell right. His body gave off the scent of sweat, not clean aftershave.

      Dinah cringed against her, and she slung her arm around the girl’s shoulders, holding her protectively against her side.

      “I was doing my regular check of the grounds, and I saw a car out front,” he bellowed. Still looking at Bree, he demanded, “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

      “I’m Bree Brennan, Dinah’s new teacher.” She repeated the information she’d already given several times since arriving, letting her voice slur into a soft drawl.

      The tactic didn’t have any effect on the man. “Says who?” he demanded.

      “Says Helen London,” Bree answered, striving to sound a good deal more confident than she was feeling. “I believe she’s still part owner of the property with her brother, Troy,” she added for good measure.

      The man’s mouth opened, then closed again as he apparently thought better of his outburst. It seemed the London name still functioned as some kind of deterrent.

      Bree raised her chin and blinked her large blue eyes. “Do I have the pleasure of addressing Abner Sterling?”

      “Yes, and don’t get smart with me, missy,” he snapped.

      “That certainly wasn’t my intention, sir,” she replied.

      The fiftyish man looked her up and down, from her damp blond hair to the red slingbacks she’d picked to go with her navy slacks and beige knit top. “You don’t look much like a teacher,” he said.

      She spread her hands and drawled, “I’m hoping you’ll find me satisfactory. I came all the way from Baltimore to teach Dinah. She’s such a lovely little girl, and I’m sure we’re going to get along famously.”

      “How do you know she’s lovely? You just got here,” Abner pointed out. “I’m betting you change your opinion after you’ve been here a little while. She drove the last teacher away, and she’ll drive you away, too.”

      “No, I didn’t,” Dinah protested.

      “That’s enough out of you.”

      The child cringed, and Bree wanted to spring across the space separating her from Abner Sterling and belt him. But she stayed where she was, since she didn’t want to get tossed out the door.

      “So let’s go find my room,” she said to Dinah.

      The girl nodded solemnly, putting on a burst of speed as she crossed in front of the Sterlings.

      What must it be like to live with these people? Bree wondered. Nola was cold, brittle and hostile. Abner was belligerent and probably stupid, although she knew it would be dangerous to underestimate him.

      As the girl started up the stairs, Bree picked up her bag and followed, her heels clicking smartly on the marble.

      Glancing back at the Sterlings, she said, “Well, good night. I’ll see you in the morning. I assume you don’t have breakfast too early for Dinah.”

      She caught up with the child at the top of the steps and they started down a wide, dimly lit hall. For the first fifty feet the paint and carpet looked new and expensive. After turning a corner, they were suddenly walking on worn boards, between gray, dingy walls.

      Several paces along the uncarpeted hallway, they turned another corner. Behind her, Bree heard a floor-board creak, and the skin on the back of her neck tingled.

      Was Abner Sterling behind her ready to attack? Stopping, she whirled, only to confront a tall, gaunt man who glared at her. His face was lined with vertical wrinkles, but he stood with shoulders squared. His clothing was scruffy—a dark wool jacket, a dirty shirt, blotched pants.

      Feeling a sudden pressure against her side, Bree looked down to see that Dinah had also turned and was squeezed very close to her, her free arm still clutching the stuffed kitten. Obviously she, too, was alarmed by the newcomer.

      The man ignored the child, his deadly gaze fixed on Bree.

      “Who are you? And what are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice low and raspy.

      The questions were starting to get tiresome, she thought. “Dinah’s new teacher,” she answered. “Who are you?”

      “Foster Graves.” He kept his gaze steady, his stance rigid.

      “You work here?”

      “I take care of some things, yeah” was his cryptic reply.

      Beside her, Dinah stirred.

      Bree bent to the child. “Are you all right?” she questioned.

      “I don’t want to stay here,” the little girl whispered.

      “We won’t.”

      The child made a small sound, her eyes going wide. Bree turned again, following her gaze, and discovered that Graves had vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

      She took several steps down the hall, trying to figure out how he’d managed such a quick escape. Like the man outside in the driveway!

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