Read Online Storm by Jayne Fresina - Free Book Online

the estate sale at the Putnam farm, is it not?" Olivia asked.
    "Hmm." His mind reluctantly forced back from a pair of rose-embroidered stockings, he grumbled, "Joss Restarick stopped in this morning to let me know he means to bid on the land too."
    "But your father said you have plans for it."
    He nodded. "It's a fine, sheltered spot with good soil. A nice little orchard on the property too. And the buildings are sound, perfect to house more stock." Storm wouldn't tell anyone why he really wanted that farm. Best not let word get out. So he gave the usual answer. "Old Steadfast Putnam built those stone walls with his own hands when he was a young man. I'm sure you've heard how particular he was. He knew stone like no one else."
    "Such a pity he and his wife had no children to inherit the property. They married later in life, I understand. Steadfast Putnam was as resistant to marriage as you are, it seems. He left it too late, sadly, to have offspring."
    Ignoring that broad hint, he said, "I'll make good use of the place and make it pay. The old man couldn't work the land as much these last five or so years and he was too stubborn to get help in. I offered, many a time, to go over and lend him a plow for those two fields, but he'd have none of it. Accused me once of wanting to ‘poke about’ on his land. Fair tore me apart to see those fields left idle. He let his pride get in the way of sound business sense."
    "Sometimes pride is all a man has left."
    "I'm not surprised it's all he had, since he was a mean old bugger with no mind for looking to the future. "
    "One shouldn't speak ill of the dead." She shot him a sly sideways glance. "Besides, pride has been something of a failing in your family too from time to time."
    "Can't think what you mean, stepmother." He squared his shoulders and added briskly, "There's few folk so humble as I."
    "Yes, of course. This would be the insufferable humility that leads you to endure excessive self-confidence, generally ignore advice and always think you know best."
    He sniffed. "As a matter of fact, I have taken your advice recently, you'll be pleased to know."
    "You have? Gracious!"
    "I decided to hire a housekeeper and wrote to Reverend Coles, as you suggested."
    Her eyes widened and she held her hat with one hand as he quickened the horses. "I'm very glad. Now you will have someone to keep you in line."
    "Hmm."
    "I look forward to meeting her. What is she like?"
    "Very... proper."
    "Then I hope you are polite to her."
    "As long as she's polite to me," he muttered.
    "She has good references?"
    "Not a one." Storm couldn't help himself. Olivia's disapproving countenance was always amusing to see and he'd been on the receiving end of it a great deal. One look at that expression reassured him that he wasn't losing his touch.
    "Why would Reverend Coles send you a woman with no references?"
    "Perhaps she was the best he could get to work for a filthy rotten Deverell."
    "Nonsense, I'm sure you're paying a very good wage. Like your father, you've always thrown money about as if it cures all." She shook her head, tut-tutting under her breath, adding to his amusement. "She can cook at least?"
    "Apparently not. Can't sew either."
    "Storm! You should have let me interview her."
    He swiftly changed the subject. "I hear father's making some alterations at Roscarrock."
    She huffed, still shaking her head. "Just adding a few modern comforts."
    He nodded. "Good. It's time the place was dragged out of the dark ages. I know he liked the grimness of it because he thought it suited his image."
    After a while she said, "When I first came to Roscarrock, I found it a drafty place, isolated and dark. Now I've developed such a fondness for that ugly old stone castle that I would never want to live anywhere else." She squeezed his arm. "Strange how finding love can transform everything. It's not nearly so eerie and gloomy now that your father and I are there together every evening."
    He snorted. "Isn't that