Rags-to-Riches Bride. Mary Nichols
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Название: Rags-to-Riches Bride

Автор: Mary Nichols

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon Historical

isbn: 9781408900970

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ to find herself thwarted. She would not subject her father to the indignity of being looked after, as if he were a child packed off to the nursery when his presence became inconvenient. And she did not know why Stephen was so anxious she should be one of the party.

      ‘I think you must allow Miss Bywater to decline without bullying her, Grandmother,’ John said. ‘And you know, we are very busy and it is not altogether convenient for me to drop everything to take you home when you arrive unexpectedly.’

      ‘You don’t need to.’ Her voice held a note of asperity. ‘Richard brought me. He has gone to the House of Commons and then he is coming back for me.’

      ‘House of Commons?’ Mr Harecroft senior demanded. ‘Since when has he interested himself in politics?’

      ‘You must ask him that. I am not his keeper.’

      Diana had been inching her way towards the door in order to escape and was reaching for its handle when it was opened and she found herself half-hidden behind it, sucking a little finger that had been caught in the handle.

      The newcomer turned to shut the door and saw her. ‘I beg pardon, I did not see you hiding there.’

      She met his blue-eyed gaze and something inside her turned a somersault. He was a much bigger version of Stephen; he was taller, his shoulders broader, the red-gold of his hair more pronounced—a characteristic she concluded all the family had to a greater or lesser degree—his eyes were bluer and his mouth fuller. She realised with a little stab of guilt that he made his brother look drab and colourless, particularly as in contrast to Stephen’s grey suit, he was wearing a brown frock coat, light brown trousers and a pale fawn cravat. It was not only his size and his clothes, his presence dominated the room. He exuded power and self-assurance. She could easily imagine him as a serving officer, in full command of his men. ‘I was not hiding, I was about to leave,’ she said, finding her voice at last.

      ‘Oh, please do not leave on my account.’ He stopped suddenly, unable to take his eyes from her face. She seemed so familiar he felt he ought to know her. She was plainly dressed and wore an unbecoming cap that hid most of her hair, but her complexion was flawless and her eyes reminded him of the plumage of a dove, a soft blue-grey. Her lips were pink and firm and at that moment were sucking a little finger; it was an incredibly sensuous act, made more so because she appeared totally unaware of the effect she was having. ‘Does it hurt?’

      She took it from her mouth to answer him. ‘No, it is nothing.’

      ‘Richard, may I present Miss Diana Bywater,’ Stephen said, stepping between them. ‘Miss Bywater, my brother, Richard.’

      ‘How do you do?’ he said, wondering why Stephen found it necessary to introduce someone who was so obviously a servant. It did not bother him, but his family were sticklers for form.

      She bowed her head. ‘Mr Harecroft.’

      He nodded towards the table where the teapot and the used cups and saucers were evidence of the refreshment they had been enjoying before he arrived. ‘Are you going to pour me a cup of tea?’

      ‘I am afraid it must be cold by now. I will make a fresh pot if you like.’

      ‘Miss Bywater, you have those accounts to complete before the end of the working day,’ John reminded her.

      ‘Accounts?’ Richard queried. ‘Oh, you must be the young lady who had the temerity to apply for a man’s job. I heard all about it from Great-Grandmother.’

      She smiled. ‘Yes, though why it should be called a man’s job I do not know. It is mental work and does not require strength. I do exactly the same work as the gentlemen clerks without concessions to my gender. Now, please excuse me, I must return to it. Good afternoon, Lady Harecroft.’ She turned to go and Stephen sprang to open the door for her.

      She thanked him and escaped to the sanctuary of her own room. Arriving breathless, she shut the door behind her and stood leaning against it. The encounter with the elder of the two brothers had shaken her. She did not know what she had expected, but she felt she had been buffeted by a whirlwind, and all in the space of a few fleeting minutes.

      She crossed to the window just in time to see her ladyship being handed into her carriage by Richard. He was taking enormous trouble to make sure she was comfortable before getting in himself. She watched as the carriage made its way down the busy street and disappeared round the corner, before returning to the ledger she had left an hour before.

      It was difficult to concentrate. Quite apart from that strange encounter with Mr Richard Harecroft, the invitation to the party, the assumption that she would foist the care of her father on to someone else in order to enjoy herself with a group of people who were materially and socially way above her, vexed her. She cared too much for her father to do that to him. She would have to be firm, but would that cost her her job? She could not afford to lose it, for where else could she find something so congenial and so well paid? Without her wages, she and her father would sink even lower in the social scale.

      Stephen came into the room and sat on the corner of the table at which she worked. ‘Do not let my brother upset you, Miss Bywater.’

      ‘He did not upset me, whatever gave you that idea?’

      ‘Good. Every family is supposed to have a black sheep and I suppose he is ours.’

      ‘He did not look like a sheep to me.’

      ‘No, perhaps I should have said wolf.’

      ‘Not that either,’ she said, though when she remembered those blue eyes almost devouring her, she did wonder. ‘More like a lion with that mane of golden hair.’

      ‘Hmm.’ He seemed to consider this and then dismissed the idea. ‘Whichever it is, we do not need to see much of him at Borstead Hall. He lives in the dower house.’

      ‘He lives with your great-grandmother?’

      ‘No, Great-Grandmama lives with my grandfather in the big house. He says she is too old to live by herself and he needs to keep an eye on her, so she told Richard he could use the dower house. He shares it with a couple of penniless artists and his mi—’ He stopped suddenly, his voice so twisted with bitterness, she looked at him sharply, but he quickly recovered himself. ‘I do not suppose we shall see anything of them.’

      She wondered what he had been about to let slip; it sounded as if he were going to say mistress, but surely his brother would not live with such a one so close to the family home? ‘What does your great-grandmother think of his friends?’

      ‘Oh, she does not mind them. She has a soft spot for Richard.’

      ‘He seems very fond of her.’

      ‘Yes, she is the only one who can get Richard to do what she wants.’

      She realised suddenly that he was jealous of his brother, even though he enjoyed more of his father’s favour. It was all to do with the old lady. ‘I wish you had not asked her ladyship to invite me to her party,’ she said.

      ‘Why not? We will have a splendid time.’

      ‘We will not, because I cannot accept the invitation.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘I have СКАЧАТЬ