Read Online A Man To Tame - Rachel Lindsay (Roberta Leigh) by Rachel Lindsay - Free Book Online
Authors: Rachel Lindsay
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her
employer—albeit an unwilling one—and it seemed politic to be polite.
'Yes, we're great tea-lovers,' he
said, 'and home-lovers too.
It's
a throwback to the past when we were
hemmed in by the mountains and turned our homes into our world.' He glanced
round the dingy kitchen. 'I suppose medicine interests you more than
domesticity?'
'I like both.'
His look was sceptical
and she knew he was thinking of the milk less coffee she had offered him. As
she watched him his eyes rested on the boiler, cold and unlit behind her.
'No wonder It's like an iceberg
here!' he exclaimed. 'Don't you ever intend to light that thing?'
'I haven't got round to it yet.'
‘You don't-appear to have got round
to anything.' He was staring past her shoulder at the half-open larder, its bare
shelves clearly visible. ‘You do intend to settle here, don't you, Dr Gibson,
or are you planning Uptake my advice and return to London after all?'
'I have every intention of settling
here, Mr Howard. But it's a question of priorities,
and I consider that my first one is to establish myself in the factory.'
‘You have nothing to establish
there except to take up your position behind
a desk!'
he replied. 'If
you don't do something about heating this house you'll end up with pneumonia.
It will be a case of the doctor being doctored.' His lips
quirked. That wasn't what I meant,' he added quickly.
'I know exactly what you meant, and
you're worrying needlessly. I'm quite happy living here like this.'
'Am I?' Abruptly he stepped past
her and opened a couple of the kitchen cupboards. ‘Not a thing in them. What on
earth have you been living on?'
‘I’ve only been here three days,'
she stormed. 'I intend to go out tomorrow and do some shopping.'
‘You'll need a van!'
'I know exactly what I need. Now if
you don't mind, Mr Howard, I have things to do.'
‘Like making
yourself a dinner of coffee grains and stale biscuits!' One hand in the pocket of his jacket, he surveyed her.
'You disappoint me, Dr Gibson. You look so frail and feminine I thought you
would at least have some of the fair sex's interest in making a home around
yourself. But obviously you're happy to live like an impoverished first year
student.'
Anger choked her and she longed to
tell him how wrong he was; that she hated living in this dreary atmosphere; that
she wanted the house to be warm and bright and the kitchen full of the homely
smells of cooking. But she dared not tell him of her lack of energy. He must
never know the effort it cost her to get out of bed each morning nor the
weariness with which she crawled back into bed at night.
‘Please go,' she said huskily.
Implacably he returned her gaze, then with a shrug he walked out. Kate remained in the
kitchen until she heard the sound of his car die away, and only then did she
return to the sitting room. It was still aromatic from the scent of his Havana
cigar and she longed to open a window and get rid of it. But it was too cold
and instead she went back to the kitchen. These was nothing for her to eat, and
whereas the Kate of four months ago would have found the situation funny and
burst out laughing, the Kate of today found it intolerable and burst into
tears.
At ten o'clock on Saturday morning
Dermot Kane presented himself at the house, disconcerted to find that Kate had
forgotten her promise to go to town with him. 'But we're going shopping for the
house,’ he exclaimed. 'I refuse to believe a woman can forget she's going out
to spend money.'
'I don't feel I have the right to
spend any money on this place.'
‘Why not?'
Reluctant to tell him of her
meeting with Joshua Howard last night, she shrugged aside the question.
'Boiler still not
working?' Dermot asked.
'Don't you start about the boiler,'
she said unthinkingly. 'I had enough of that from Mr
Howard.'
‘When?'
'Last night,' she said shortly.
'He—he called round to collect some papers and said how cold it was here.'
'I'm not surprised. It is cold
here. I
employer—albeit an unwilling one—and it seemed politic to be polite.
'Yes, we're great tea-lovers,' he
said, 'and home-lovers too.
It's
a throwback to the past when we were
hemmed in by the mountains and turned our homes into our world.' He glanced
round the dingy kitchen. 'I suppose medicine interests you more than
domesticity?'
'I like both.'
His look was sceptical
and she knew he was thinking of the milk less coffee she had offered him. As
she watched him his eyes rested on the boiler, cold and unlit behind her.
'No wonder It's like an iceberg
here!' he exclaimed. 'Don't you ever intend to light that thing?'
'I haven't got round to it yet.'
‘You don't-appear to have got round
to anything.' He was staring past her shoulder at the half-open larder, its bare
shelves clearly visible. ‘You do intend to settle here, don't you, Dr Gibson,
or are you planning Uptake my advice and return to London after all?'
'I have every intention of settling
here, Mr Howard. But it's a question of priorities,
and I consider that my first one is to establish myself in the factory.'
‘You have nothing to establish
there except to take up your position behind
a desk!'
he replied. 'If
you don't do something about heating this house you'll end up with pneumonia.
It will be a case of the doctor being doctored.' His lips
quirked. That wasn't what I meant,' he added quickly.
'I know exactly what you meant, and
you're worrying needlessly. I'm quite happy living here like this.'
'Am I?' Abruptly he stepped past
her and opened a couple of the kitchen cupboards. ‘Not a thing in them. What on
earth have you been living on?'
‘I’ve only been here three days,'
she stormed. 'I intend to go out tomorrow and do some shopping.'
‘You'll need a van!'
'I know exactly what I need. Now if
you don't mind, Mr Howard, I have things to do.'
‘Like making
yourself a dinner of coffee grains and stale biscuits!' One hand in the pocket of his jacket, he surveyed her.
'You disappoint me, Dr Gibson. You look so frail and feminine I thought you
would at least have some of the fair sex's interest in making a home around
yourself. But obviously you're happy to live like an impoverished first year
student.'
Anger choked her and she longed to
tell him how wrong he was; that she hated living in this dreary atmosphere; that
she wanted the house to be warm and bright and the kitchen full of the homely
smells of cooking. But she dared not tell him of her lack of energy. He must
never know the effort it cost her to get out of bed each morning nor the
weariness with which she crawled back into bed at night.
‘Please go,' she said huskily.
Implacably he returned her gaze, then with a shrug he walked out. Kate remained in the
kitchen until she heard the sound of his car die away, and only then did she
return to the sitting room. It was still aromatic from the scent of his Havana
cigar and she longed to open a window and get rid of it. But it was too cold
and instead she went back to the kitchen. These was nothing for her to eat, and
whereas the Kate of four months ago would have found the situation funny and
burst out laughing, the Kate of today found it intolerable and burst into
tears.
At ten o'clock on Saturday morning
Dermot Kane presented himself at the house, disconcerted to find that Kate had
forgotten her promise to go to town with him. 'But we're going shopping for the
house,’ he exclaimed. 'I refuse to believe a woman can forget she's going out
to spend money.'
'I don't feel I have the right to
spend any money on this place.'
‘Why not?'
Reluctant to tell him of her
meeting with Joshua Howard last night, she shrugged aside the question.
'Boiler still not
working?' Dermot asked.
'Don't you start about the boiler,'
she said unthinkingly. 'I had enough of that from Mr
Howard.'
‘When?'
'Last night,' she said shortly.
'He—he called round to collect some papers and said how cold it was here.'
'I'm not surprised. It is cold
here. I
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