Read Online The Body in the Bouillon by Katherine Hall Page - Free Book Online Page B

breed.”
    Which considering their ages is no surprise, Faith almost replied.
    â€œMen who know the true meaning of service. Who are devoted to their brothers.”
    â€œAnd sisters?” Faith murmured. Pamela Albright’s lips twitched.
    â€œI happen to know we’re in for a little windfall, Tom. Farley mentioned it to me—in confidence, but sadly that no longer applies,” Cyle said fatuously. “And Hubbard House too, of course. Farley was devoted to Hubbard House.”
    The Reverend Fairchild had had enough.
    â€œCatch the Celtics Friday night, Allen?”
    It was a pleasant lunch despite Cyle’s presence, but they all breathed a collective sigh of relief when he announced he had to leave before coffee as he had an appointment.
    â€œSo sorry,” Faith said crisply, and suggested to the others that they take their cups into the living room. If he had such an important appointment, why had he wheedled his way into dinner in the first place? Nowhere else to go? With a passing thought that quickly evaporated in the winter air as to what this appointment might be, Faith led the way through the door into the living room. Tom hastened to see Cyle out.
    Allen sprawled comfortably on the couch. “Talkative young bastard, excuse the language,” he commented as the front door closed. They all exploded in laughter.
    â€œI have half a mind to put him in charge of the pageant. He has so many ideas about how it should be done correctly,” Pamela said.

    â€œAt least get him sewing on the angels’ robes,” Faith advised. “So long as he’s here, let him be useful.”
    Allen stood up. “Come on, Tom, the classy hotel they’re putting me up in gives me guest privileges at some health club. Let’s go knock a few squash balls around. You can give yours whatever name you want and I have a few for mine. Then we can hit the steam room and our troubles will melt away.” Allen was a lawyer, and according to Tom, he wasn’t particularly pleased with the way the case he was working on in Boston was going.
    â€œSounds like heaven,” Tom said. “Give me a minute to help Faith and I’m your man.”
    â€œI’ll help too—it’s the least I can do for such a delicious repast,” Allen offered.
    â€œNo, go on—it sounds like exactly what the doctor ordered, or would have, and I’m going to clean up in a leisurely way—there isn’t that much to do.”
    â€œAre you sure, Faith? Otherwise I have to be going too,” Pamela said.
    â€œOh, stay—not to clean up, but have another cup of coffee.”
    â€œI really can’t. I shouldn’t even have taken the time for lunch, but I can never resist one of your invitations.”
    They left, and Faith reveled in the solitude of the house for almost fifteen minutes before Ben awoke and she took him to the playground. Life at two and a half was an endless round of pleasure.
    She wanted to get out of the house too, she realized. She’d been spending every spare moment finishing she Christmas cards, and last night she and Tom had wrestled with the tree lights for an hour before even starting to trim the balsam fir Faith preferred for the smell that filled the room. A service that untangled the lines, replaced missing bulbs, and strung the lights on the tree so the wires didn’t show would make a fortune. She was sure something like it must exist in New York: S.O.S. Tree Lite, or Baby Let Us Light Your Tree.

    When Tom got home, he called Farley’s niece, whom he had seen the day before, to talk about funeral arrangements. After a brief conversation, he told Faith, “The funeral is set for Tuesday. I suppose you’ll be too busy at Hubbard House to come, but of course the Bowditches will understand.”
    â€œCome on, Tom. It’s not like you to be devious. What did she say?”
    â€œShe didn’t say anything, but you’re