Read Online Seduction Becomes Her by Shirlee Busbee - Free Book Online
Authors: Shirlee Busbee
Ads: Link
relate a few hair-raising stories about Beaumont Place that dated back to the bloody time of the Cromwell’s Roundheads and Charles the First. The tales proved to be very exciting and thrilling, but there was nothing in them that Daphne felt shed any light on what she had experienced, although she did perk up when the vicar mentioned legends of hidden staircases and concealed panels…. But since the ghost, or whatever, remained silent, she was perfectly happy to push it aside and simply enjoy her new friends and life.
The holidays were a giddy time for the three Beaumonts. For the first time in memory, money was no object, and they spent freely, even a little foolishly, on each other. They entertained their tenants and their families lavishly, as well as their new friends, and threw themselves happily into an orgy of parties and balls and soirees that were held at the various homes in the neighborhood. There were additions to the staff: Adrian’s valet was hired, and a pair of lady’s maids for Daphne and April.
But best of all had been the arrival of their beloved Ketty on a blustery December night near the end of the year. The moment she had received Daphne’s letter, Ketty explained, she had given her notice and made plans to travel to Cornwall. Seeing her small, sturdy frame standing bemused in their elegant entryway brought a lump to Daphne’s throat. Still wearing her old brown coat, her ginger-colored hair escaping from beneath the worn felt hat upon her head, and holding her threadbare tan gloves, Miss Ketty stared around her in astonishment.
Miss Ketty’s pale blue eyes filled with tears. “The Lord answered my prayers,” she said. “I prayed and prayed for my three little birds to be safe and with me again. And look at this wonderful place.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I am on my head or my heels!” She glanced at Adrian. “And look at you, Sir Adrian, all dressed up like a young lord. Why I could pass you on the street and never recognize my dear little boy. Never in my dreams did I expect such a thing.”
“It’s no dream, Ketty,” exclaimed Adrian with a laugh, and scooping her up, he danced with her in his arms around the entryway. “It’s a dashed miracle.”
“Now put me down, Sir Adrian. This is no way for a proper young man to act,” she scolded, flustered. “Wherever did you learn such manners—certainly not from me!”
Adrian only grinned, but he did set her down. Her feet on the floor again, Miss Ketty looked over at Daphne and April. Her eyes filled with tears again, and she groped for her handkerchief. Her nose buried in it, she cried, “Oh, never did I expect to see my sweet doves again. I worried so about the pair of you, alone in the world, and I was fearful what the future would hold for you.”
April ran to her and hugged her. “Dear Ketty, we are so glad that you are here. I have missed you so.”
“And I you.” Ketty gave a great gusty sigh. “The Lord is good.”
“Indeed, He is,” Daphne said as she walked up to Ketty and kissed her cheek. Smiling into her worn face, she added, “He brought our own dear, dear Miss Ketty back to us.”
Miss Kettle’s arrival made their transition complete, and by the time late January rolled around, with Miss Ketty firmly settled in the household, scolding and fussing over them, they were comfortable in their new life. Staring out the window of the library one sunny January morning, it seemed to Daphne as if they had always lived at Beaumont Place. The past seemed like a dream, she thought as she sipped a cup of freshly poured tea. No more worries. No more cares.
The day was so fine, in fact, that Daphne gave into Adrian’s pleas for a picnic on the beach. In addition to the farms found in the long coombes and valleys that descended from the upper moorland, his estate ran down to the wave-tossed English Channel. The cliff sides leading down to the shore were pocketed with caves and indentations,
The holidays were a giddy time for the three Beaumonts. For the first time in memory, money was no object, and they spent freely, even a little foolishly, on each other. They entertained their tenants and their families lavishly, as well as their new friends, and threw themselves happily into an orgy of parties and balls and soirees that were held at the various homes in the neighborhood. There were additions to the staff: Adrian’s valet was hired, and a pair of lady’s maids for Daphne and April.
But best of all had been the arrival of their beloved Ketty on a blustery December night near the end of the year. The moment she had received Daphne’s letter, Ketty explained, she had given her notice and made plans to travel to Cornwall. Seeing her small, sturdy frame standing bemused in their elegant entryway brought a lump to Daphne’s throat. Still wearing her old brown coat, her ginger-colored hair escaping from beneath the worn felt hat upon her head, and holding her threadbare tan gloves, Miss Ketty stared around her in astonishment.
Miss Ketty’s pale blue eyes filled with tears. “The Lord answered my prayers,” she said. “I prayed and prayed for my three little birds to be safe and with me again. And look at this wonderful place.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I am on my head or my heels!” She glanced at Adrian. “And look at you, Sir Adrian, all dressed up like a young lord. Why I could pass you on the street and never recognize my dear little boy. Never in my dreams did I expect such a thing.”
“It’s no dream, Ketty,” exclaimed Adrian with a laugh, and scooping her up, he danced with her in his arms around the entryway. “It’s a dashed miracle.”
“Now put me down, Sir Adrian. This is no way for a proper young man to act,” she scolded, flustered. “Wherever did you learn such manners—certainly not from me!”
Adrian only grinned, but he did set her down. Her feet on the floor again, Miss Ketty looked over at Daphne and April. Her eyes filled with tears again, and she groped for her handkerchief. Her nose buried in it, she cried, “Oh, never did I expect to see my sweet doves again. I worried so about the pair of you, alone in the world, and I was fearful what the future would hold for you.”
April ran to her and hugged her. “Dear Ketty, we are so glad that you are here. I have missed you so.”
“And I you.” Ketty gave a great gusty sigh. “The Lord is good.”
“Indeed, He is,” Daphne said as she walked up to Ketty and kissed her cheek. Smiling into her worn face, she added, “He brought our own dear, dear Miss Ketty back to us.”
Miss Kettle’s arrival made their transition complete, and by the time late January rolled around, with Miss Ketty firmly settled in the household, scolding and fussing over them, they were comfortable in their new life. Staring out the window of the library one sunny January morning, it seemed to Daphne as if they had always lived at Beaumont Place. The past seemed like a dream, she thought as she sipped a cup of freshly poured tea. No more worries. No more cares.
The day was so fine, in fact, that Daphne gave into Adrian’s pleas for a picnic on the beach. In addition to the farms found in the long coombes and valleys that descended from the upper moorland, his estate ran down to the wave-tossed English Channel. The cliff sides leading down to the shore were pocketed with caves and indentations,
Similar Books
