A Pattern of Lies by Charles Todd Read Free Book Online Page A

worked.”
    â€œYes, well, Aunt Helen seldom mentions them.”
    I said, turning to look straight at her, “I’ve nursed hundreds of men since I finished my training. Mark was special because his mother had come to help us in any way she could, and we didn’t want to let her down. We didn’t want to have to tell her one morning that her son hadn’t lived through the night.”
    She stared at me as if I’d bitten her.
    â€œI see” was all she could manage before she turned away. Then, without looking at me, she added, “I’m so sorry. It’s just that she’s so very happy to have you here. And Mark is as well.”
    â€œI expect my arrival helped to take their minds off what’s been happening. What’s the old expression? A change of trouble is as good as a holiday? Sometimes it’s true.”
    To my surprise, she flushed, saying again, “I’m so sorry. I—­Mark and I—­I’ve been in love with him since I was fourteen.”
    â€œThen you’ve nothing to fear from me.”
    â€œThank you,” she said ruefully. But we both knew that Eloise was her rival still. And that was as it should be. Mark would have to mourn before he could turn elsewhere.
    We walked on, down to the terrace, where I admired the small pools that had been put in on either side.
    â€œThe monks would have kept fish in the pools,” she said. “Stocked for use as needed on holy days. Alas, there are none in here now. There was a story I read once, when I was a child. About a monk who had made friends with the carp in the fishpond, only to discover that a curse had been put on it, and when the curse was lifted, a prince stepped out of the water. In gratitude, the prince built a great abbey where only a poor wooden one had stood. I remember coming here as a little girl, looking for the fish, determined to find the prince.”
    We laughed together as we turned back toward the house. But her prince had found another princess. Eloise had got there first.
    Over the wall, toward the front of the house, came the sounds of carriages coming up the drive. Their pace didn’t sound like that of casual visitors. Too brisk, the wheels rattling loudly. I could hear one of the drivers reining in the horses.
    Clara’s face was white. “Oh, God, who can that be?”
    Side by side we hurried up the garden to the door into the house. I could hear someone coming down the stairs. Mrs. Ashton. She called to her housekeeper, and there was fear in her voice.
    We reached the hall just as a fist pounded on the door.
    Clara started forward. Mrs. Ashton barred her way. “Let Mrs. Byers open the door. Come with me to the study.”
    Mark was already standing there on its threshold, listening, his gaze going to his mother’s face as the three of us hurried toward him. Behind him, Mr. Ashton had risen from his desk.
    I watched as the housekeeper came up from the kitchen, walking steadily toward the sound of the knocking, but before Mark could shut the study door behind us I saw that Mrs. Byers’s hands were clenched in the fabric of her dress.
    Mr. Ashton was at the window now. He said to his wife, “It’s nothing to worry about, my dear. I expect it’s the police. They’ve found our young vandals.”
    â€œThey’ll want us to be magnanimous and not press charges,” Mark answered him, but there was bitterness in his voice.
    As if by agreement, we took chairs, trying to look as if this was no more than a social call. Mark replaced his father by the windows, his back to the room, while his father resumed his seat behind the desk. As voices reached us from the hall, I heard a low growl and realized that the spaniel was under the desk at its master’s feet. Mr. Ashton spoke to it, and it was quiet again.
    After what seemed an eternity, we heard Mrs. Byers’s tentative tap on the door, and then it swung open.
    All of