Read Online Sins of the Father by Kitty Neale - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kitty Neale
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you need, Emma?’
‘Oh, yes, sir. Well, except I haven’t found any sugar.’
‘Sir! You don’t have to call me sir. I think you’ll find sugar in there,’ he said, pointing to an earthenware jar on one of the shelves. ‘I don’t take sugar in my tea, but you are welcome to use it.’ His eyes then roamed the shelves and he heaved a sigh. ‘We have several fruit trees in the garden and when Isabelle was alive our cook preserved the fruit and made jam. Nowadays I dine out, and they haven’t been touched. If you can make use of anything, Emma, take what you want.’
‘Really, sir?’
‘Yes, really, and please, I told you not to call me sir. There’s a lot of tinned produce, far too much for me, most of it coming from tenants in lieu of rent. Despite the war years and rationing, as you can see, my wife hoarded food.’
Emma felt as though she had died and gone to heaven. She grinned with delight. Bottled fruit, jam and meat, real meat, even if tinned. ‘Oh, thank you, sir, I…I mean, Mr Bell.’
‘It’s only going to waste so there’s no need to thank me. When the tea is made, bring it through to the drawing room.’ On that note he left the kitchen.
Emma was still smiling as she brewed the tea. Mr Bell’s kindness was so unexpected, and to think she’d been nervous about working for him! She arranged some biscuits on his plate, carrying the tray through and laying it on a side table.
‘Well, Emma, I must say you’ve done wonders with this room.’
She smiled with pleasure. ‘Thank you. I’ll have my tea and then start on the kitchen.’
‘Very well, but as I said, you don’t have to do everything in one day. I’ll be going out again shortly, so keep the keys in case I leave before you arrive in the morning.’
Emma nodded, pleased that she was going to have the house to herself again. She ate some biscuits, savouring the buttery flavour, and then drank her tea, still sitting at the kitchen table when Mr Bell stuck his head around the door.
‘Goodbye, Emma. I doubt I’ll be back before you leave.’
‘’Bye, Mr Bell,’ Emma called, but the man had already gone.
Horace Bell was smiling with satisfaction as he left the house. He’d hardly noticed Emma before, but overnight she had grown up, turning into a beauty. One look and he’d been smitten, not only by her glorious looks, but by her obvious shyness and innocence. He had plans for her, but he’d take things slowly. He knew that Tom Chambers was unlikely to pay the rent each week and that suited him, the man unaware that he would be playing into his landlord’s hands.
God, Emma was lovely, but so young. He’d haveto move carefully, gain her trust and liking before making a move. Nevertheless, when the rent arrears mounted again, he would hold all the cards and, knowing how much her family meant to Emma, he doubted she’d say no.
Horace’s lips tightened. Things would be different this time, and he would hold the purse strings. His wife, Isabelle, had property when they married and, due to his business acumen, more had accrued over the years. They raked in profits that Isabelle had enjoyed spending, her dress allowance alone enormous. She’d been far too generous with the staff, something he didn’t approve of, and after her death he’d been determined to cut down on household expenditure, getting rid of the lot of them. Money was to be accumulated, not frittered away, and nowadays his bank balance was a testimony to his thrift.
He continued to walk; after all, it was good exercise and why waste money on transport? It was half an hour later when he turned into Mycroft Road. His mistress lived here, and she had suited him well, playing the role of a meek and biddable woman perfectly. Yet though he had his needs, he resented the expenditure. As Joyce opened the door, her smile was inviting, and Horace smiled back. He’d continue to keep her for now, but if his plans worked out, he’d have no further use for a strumpet.
‘Oh, yes, sir. Well, except I haven’t found any sugar.’
‘Sir! You don’t have to call me sir. I think you’ll find sugar in there,’ he said, pointing to an earthenware jar on one of the shelves. ‘I don’t take sugar in my tea, but you are welcome to use it.’ His eyes then roamed the shelves and he heaved a sigh. ‘We have several fruit trees in the garden and when Isabelle was alive our cook preserved the fruit and made jam. Nowadays I dine out, and they haven’t been touched. If you can make use of anything, Emma, take what you want.’
‘Really, sir?’
‘Yes, really, and please, I told you not to call me sir. There’s a lot of tinned produce, far too much for me, most of it coming from tenants in lieu of rent. Despite the war years and rationing, as you can see, my wife hoarded food.’
Emma felt as though she had died and gone to heaven. She grinned with delight. Bottled fruit, jam and meat, real meat, even if tinned. ‘Oh, thank you, sir, I…I mean, Mr Bell.’
‘It’s only going to waste so there’s no need to thank me. When the tea is made, bring it through to the drawing room.’ On that note he left the kitchen.
Emma was still smiling as she brewed the tea. Mr Bell’s kindness was so unexpected, and to think she’d been nervous about working for him! She arranged some biscuits on his plate, carrying the tray through and laying it on a side table.
‘Well, Emma, I must say you’ve done wonders with this room.’
She smiled with pleasure. ‘Thank you. I’ll have my tea and then start on the kitchen.’
‘Very well, but as I said, you don’t have to do everything in one day. I’ll be going out again shortly, so keep the keys in case I leave before you arrive in the morning.’
Emma nodded, pleased that she was going to have the house to herself again. She ate some biscuits, savouring the buttery flavour, and then drank her tea, still sitting at the kitchen table when Mr Bell stuck his head around the door.
‘Goodbye, Emma. I doubt I’ll be back before you leave.’
‘’Bye, Mr Bell,’ Emma called, but the man had already gone.
Horace Bell was smiling with satisfaction as he left the house. He’d hardly noticed Emma before, but overnight she had grown up, turning into a beauty. One look and he’d been smitten, not only by her glorious looks, but by her obvious shyness and innocence. He had plans for her, but he’d take things slowly. He knew that Tom Chambers was unlikely to pay the rent each week and that suited him, the man unaware that he would be playing into his landlord’s hands.
God, Emma was lovely, but so young. He’d haveto move carefully, gain her trust and liking before making a move. Nevertheless, when the rent arrears mounted again, he would hold all the cards and, knowing how much her family meant to Emma, he doubted she’d say no.
Horace’s lips tightened. Things would be different this time, and he would hold the purse strings. His wife, Isabelle, had property when they married and, due to his business acumen, more had accrued over the years. They raked in profits that Isabelle had enjoyed spending, her dress allowance alone enormous. She’d been far too generous with the staff, something he didn’t approve of, and after her death he’d been determined to cut down on household expenditure, getting rid of the lot of them. Money was to be accumulated, not frittered away, and nowadays his bank balance was a testimony to his thrift.
He continued to walk; after all, it was good exercise and why waste money on transport? It was half an hour later when he turned into Mycroft Road. His mistress lived here, and she had suited him well, playing the role of a meek and biddable woman perfectly. Yet though he had his needs, he resented the expenditure. As Joyce opened the door, her smile was inviting, and Horace smiled back. He’d continue to keep her for now, but if his plans worked out, he’d have no further use for a strumpet.
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