Read Online Wendy Soliman by Duty's Destiny - Free Book Online Page A

learning French and have to know how to say ‘ être ’ by heart or he’ll punish us — ”
    “And it’s very hard to remember it.”
    Felix was thunderstruck. What in the name of Hades was wrong with Fothergill? Six-year-olds conjugating French verbs? His heart went out to them, and, before he could think the better of it, resolved to offer them his help.
    “Well you know, when I was at school I didn’t care for French either, but I found a way to do it that made it easy.”
    “What was that?” asked two eager voices in unison.
    “Well now, let me see. Try this.
    Je suis, came to tea
    Tu Es, couldn’t care less
    Il est, is the best
    Nous sommes, it’s all a hum.
    Vous etes, Hoskins’ a pet
    Ils sont, is all we want!”
    The twins giggled. “Can we say it with you, Mr. Beaumont?”
    “Most assuredly.”
    Amy slipped her hand into Felix’s, making him feel absurdly privileged. He placed his other arm around Josh’s shoulders, and the three of them strolled the lawns, calling out his ridiculous rhyme at the top of their voices. By the time the luncheon gong sounded, Felix was confident that they’d be word perfect for Fothergill that afternoon.
    “We have our luncheon in the kitchen with Mrs. Graham,” Josh explained as they headed together towards the house.
    “She says she doesn’t think it’s hygic…hygenik…clean to have Hoskins in there. Then she pretends not to see him and drops things on the floor for him.”
    “Goodbye, Mr. Beaumont.” They waved as they skipped around the side of the building. “Shall we see you later and tell you how it went?”
    “I wish you would.”
    Felix sat alone in the drawing room after luncheon. He’d not been at Riverside House for a whole day yet, but already he was starting to have doubts about Mrs. Eden’s involvement with her father. There were so many things which didn’t make sense. Her clothes, for instance: he couldn’t think of any reason why a lady would dress so badly through choice. Even if she was keeping up a pretence of having nothing to do with her father, surely she could still clothe herself more appropriately without exciting comment?
    Then there was the state of the gardens, which he’d so recently witnessed at first hand. He’d seen no sign of any gardeners or, come to that, any male staff at all other than the ancient butler. There didn’t appear to be any footmen, boot boys, and the like. There was Mrs. Graham, the cook whom the twins had mentioned, who was married to the butler. Apparently they’d been at Riverside House for more than forty years. Apart from that, Felix had seen only the rather slow-looking girl who had helped to serve dinner the evening before, and a slightly brighter one who’d performed the same service at luncheon today.
    This was not a large house, by Felix’s standards; still, it must require a vast number of staff — certainly more than he’d observed — to maintain it. Reviewing the layout, Felix knew that apart from the best room, which he occupied on the first floor, Mrs. Rivers had two rooms for her private use on one side of him, and Mr. and Mrs. Jennings occupied the large room on his left. Fothergill had a room of his own at own end of the corridor, which interlinked with the schoolroom, and Miss Willoughby and Captain Fanshaw had the only remaining rooms on that floor.
    The twins slept on the top floor, as must the servants. But what of Mrs. Eden? Surely she wasn’t relegated to the top floor as well? If she was acting purely as her father’s go-between, why endure such deprivation? Twice that day he’d come upon her carrying out menial tasks. Just as when he’d found her wheeling the tea trolley the previous evening, she became flustered, insisting upon offering him explanations for her actions.
    Felix was trying to make sense of it all when the door burst open in a manner which he was already starting to recognize. The twins were upon him in seconds, claiming that the French had gone well