Cavendon Hall by Barbara Taylor Bradford Read Free Book Online Page A

bothers me. She’s the type of young woman who’s bold, encourages men, lures them … you know what I mean.”
    Hanson was startled by this statement and frowned, staring at her. “Whatever makes you say that?”
    “I saw her just now. Or rather them. Peggy Swift and Gordon Lane. They were sort of … wedged together in your little pantry near the dining room. She was canoodling with him. I was coming through the back hall upstairs and I made a noise so they knew someone was approaching. Then I went the other way. They didn’t see me. Instinctively I feel that Peggy Swift spells trouble, Mr. Hanson.”
    Hanson didn’t speak for a moment, and then he said, “There’s always a bit of that going on, Mrs. Thwaites. Flirting. They’re young.”
    “I know, and you’re right. But I did see those two, and it seemed a little bit more than just flirting. Also, they were upstairs, where the earl and countess and the young ladies could have easily seen them.” Mrs. Thwaites shook her head, continuing to look concerned. “I just thought you ought to know.”
    “You did the right thing. And we can’t have any carrying on of that sort in this house. It cannot be touched by gossip or scandal. Let us keep this to ourselves. Better in the long run, avoids needless talk that could be damaging to the family.”
    “I won’t say a word, Mr. Hanson. You can trust me on that.”

 
    Seven
    D aphne sat at the dressing table, staring at her reflection in the antique Georgian mirror. And she saw herself quite differently. For the first time in her life she decided she was beautiful, as her father was always proclaiming.
    Unexpectedly, she now had a different image of herself, and it was all due to the two evening gowns she had just tried on.
    She had been taken aback, even startled, by the way she looked in the blue-and-green beaded dress, that slender column glittering with sea colors, and also in the white ball gown. Even though this was stained with ink, it had, nonetheless, made her feel happy, buoyant, full of life, whilst the long, narrow dress of shimmering beads had given her a feeling of elegance and sophistication she had never known before.
    Leaning forward, she studied her face with new interest, and saw a different girl. A girl a duke’s son might find as lovely as her father did.
    She thought he might have someone picked out for her, even though he had never actually said so. But he was determined to arrange a brilliant match for her, and she was certain he would do so. Her father was clever, and he knew everyone that mattered in society. After all, he was one of the premier earls of England.
    A little spurt of excitement and anticipation brought a pink flush to her cheeks, and her blue eyes sparkled with joy. The idea of one day being a duchess thrilled her. She could hardly wait.
    Next year, when she was eighteen, she would come out, be presented at court in the presence of King George and Queen Mary, along with other debutantes. Her parents would give a coming-out ball for her, and there would be balls given for other debutantes by their parents, and she would go to them all. And after the season was over, there was no reason why she couldn’t become engaged to whichever duke’s son her father had selected.
    A little sigh escaped, and she sat with her right elbow on the dressing table, her hand propping up her head. A faraway look spread itself across her soft, innocent face as she let herself float along with her romantic imaginings. Her mind was filled with marvelous dreams of falling in love, having a sweetheart, a true love of her own. A brilliant marriage. A home of her own. And children one day.
    A sudden loud thumping on the door brought her out of her reverie, and she swung around on the stool as the door burst open.
    A small but determined little girl with a flushed red face came storming in, heading straight for her. It was quite apparent the child was angry, and having a tantrum.
    “Whatever’s the