to
read.
Tuesday passed slowly for Wendy. She forced
herself to write a letter to her father. She hoped it did
not convey any of her own misgivings. She did not
want him to worry. That evening, she wore the chiffon
dress and Lord Richard was pleasant again. Perhaps,
she told herself hopefully, he is beginning to realize his
suspicions are absurd.
Wednesday, however, was quite different. Gwen,
when she came to remove the breakfast tray, said,
“Lord Richard wants to see you in the library right
away, Miss Pratt.”
Puzzled, Wendy thanked Gwen for the message and
took up her crutches. What on earth could he want?
The library door stood open, but she knocked anyway.
“Come in!” the familiar, deep voice called.
Lord Richard stood by his desk. Wordlessly, he
indicated a seat and she took it. He hesitated a
moment, then tapped a package on his desk. “This
came for you. From your publishers.”
“Oh, good!” she exclaimed. “I assume it’s some
translating to be done. I was in the middle of a Spanish
manuscript.”
Lord Richard handed it to her. Wendy’s guess was
correct. The manuscript and her notes were there.
Watching her, the Earl finally said, “I suppose you
will need a place to work.” He pushed a button and, a
few minutes later, Charles appeared. “Charles, in the
third guest room is a small desk. Please have it moved
into the library at once. At the far end of the room.”
“Very good, sir.”
As Charles left in search of the desk, Lord Richard
frowned. Then he moved among the bookcases.
Wendy, concentrating on the manuscript, seemed
oblivious to all this. She looked up with a start when
Lord Richard’s shadow fell across her. He was holding
a heavy book and frowning. “It’s a bit old,” he said,
“but the best I can manage.”
Wendy took the book he handed her. It was a
Spanish dictionary, circa 1900. She smiled. “Thank
you! I’m certain it will suffice.”
At that moment, Charles returned with another
servant. The two men were carrying an oak desk which
they put near the window farthest from Lord Richard’s
desk. Quietly, he took the book and papers from
Wendy and put them on the desk. Then, when Charles
returned with a chair, he said, “There you are, a place
to work. But please do so quietly.”
Wendy nodded and moved to the desk, the sound of
her crutches muffled by the thick carpet. Then there
was the clatter as the crutches slipped from her hands
and fell to the floor. Flushing, Wendy turned to see if
Lord Richard had noticed. He had and he looked
angry. He turned away as her sheepish glance met his
eyes.
Oh, lord! she thought. Now he thinks I’ve done it on
purpose. She turned back to the desk and tried to work
quietly. But never had paper rattled so loudly. Thank
heavens she used a silent felt-tipped pen. She was very
conscious of Lord Richard’s lack of concentration and,
as a consequence, was unable at first to settle down to
her own work. But at some point, they both became
absorbed in their respective concerns, for it came as a
surprise when Charles came in with a lunch tray.
In answer to his polite request, Wendy cleared off
space on her desk for the tray. Then Charles left. Wendy turned to ask Lord Richard a question and
discovered that he had disappeared. She smiled wryly.
Clearly he was telling her he did not want her company
and that he would not allow it to intrude more than
necessary. Well, that pleased her well enough. She
could work as she ate. This manuscript was important.
Some time later, Wendy looked up to discover that
the lunch tray had been removed. Lord Richard had
not returned, but then she recalled that he rarely
seemed to work in the afternoon. She turned back to
her own work. Really, Lord Richard’s Spanish
dictionary was excellent, better than her own, which
had been an expensive investment.
She wondered whether he had any very old
dictionaries. Some of the translating she was
read.
Tuesday passed slowly for Wendy. She forced
herself to write a letter to her father. She hoped it did
not convey any of her own misgivings. She did not
want him to worry. That evening, she wore the chiffon
dress and Lord Richard was pleasant again. Perhaps,
she told herself hopefully, he is beginning to realize his
suspicions are absurd.
Wednesday, however, was quite different. Gwen,
when she came to remove the breakfast tray, said,
“Lord Richard wants to see you in the library right
away, Miss Pratt.”
Puzzled, Wendy thanked Gwen for the message and
took up her crutches. What on earth could he want?
The library door stood open, but she knocked anyway.
“Come in!” the familiar, deep voice called.
Lord Richard stood by his desk. Wordlessly, he
indicated a seat and she took it. He hesitated a
moment, then tapped a package on his desk. “This
came for you. From your publishers.”
“Oh, good!” she exclaimed. “I assume it’s some
translating to be done. I was in the middle of a Spanish
manuscript.”
Lord Richard handed it to her. Wendy’s guess was
correct. The manuscript and her notes were there.
Watching her, the Earl finally said, “I suppose you
will need a place to work.” He pushed a button and, a
few minutes later, Charles appeared. “Charles, in the
third guest room is a small desk. Please have it moved
into the library at once. At the far end of the room.”
“Very good, sir.”
As Charles left in search of the desk, Lord Richard
frowned. Then he moved among the bookcases.
Wendy, concentrating on the manuscript, seemed
oblivious to all this. She looked up with a start when
Lord Richard’s shadow fell across her. He was holding
a heavy book and frowning. “It’s a bit old,” he said,
“but the best I can manage.”
Wendy took the book he handed her. It was a
Spanish dictionary, circa 1900. She smiled. “Thank
you! I’m certain it will suffice.”
At that moment, Charles returned with another
servant. The two men were carrying an oak desk which
they put near the window farthest from Lord Richard’s
desk. Quietly, he took the book and papers from
Wendy and put them on the desk. Then, when Charles
returned with a chair, he said, “There you are, a place
to work. But please do so quietly.”
Wendy nodded and moved to the desk, the sound of
her crutches muffled by the thick carpet. Then there
was the clatter as the crutches slipped from her hands
and fell to the floor. Flushing, Wendy turned to see if
Lord Richard had noticed. He had and he looked
angry. He turned away as her sheepish glance met his
eyes.
Oh, lord! she thought. Now he thinks I’ve done it on
purpose. She turned back to the desk and tried to work
quietly. But never had paper rattled so loudly. Thank
heavens she used a silent felt-tipped pen. She was very
conscious of Lord Richard’s lack of concentration and,
as a consequence, was unable at first to settle down to
her own work. But at some point, they both became
absorbed in their respective concerns, for it came as a
surprise when Charles came in with a lunch tray.
In answer to his polite request, Wendy cleared off
space on her desk for the tray. Then Charles left. Wendy turned to ask Lord Richard a question and
discovered that he had disappeared. She smiled wryly.
Clearly he was telling her he did not want her company
and that he would not allow it to intrude more than
necessary. Well, that pleased her well enough. She
could work as she ate. This manuscript was important.
Some time later, Wendy looked up to discover that
the lunch tray had been removed. Lord Richard had
not returned, but then she recalled that he rarely
seemed to work in the afternoon. She turned back to
her own work. Really, Lord Richard’s Spanish
dictionary was excellent, better than her own, which
had been an expensive investment.
She wondered whether he had any very old
dictionaries. Some of the translating she was
Similar Books
