Snare of Serpents by Victoria Holt Read Free Book Online Page A

to use. But she lowered her eyes so that the fanlike black lashes lay demurely against her skin; the full red lips smiled and the little nose and long upper lip looked more kittenish than ever. My father’s look was indulgent. His lips twitched a little as they used to when my mother said something which amused him and at the same time shocked him a little.
    “I hope,” he said, “that you will continue to do so.” I left them together over coffee in the drawing room. It was an extraordinary evening. Everything seemed so different now … even my father.
    D URING THE NEXT WEEKS, although I spent a good deal of time with Zillah Grey, I felt I did not really learn a great deal about her. She seemed like two different people … no, more than two. She appeared to be able to slip into different personalities with the greatest of ease. With my father she played the ladylike person who is suddenly confronted with the need to earn a living. That was characteristic of most governesses; but with her it was different. They were usually quietly retiring, very much aware of their reduced circumstances, unsure where they belonged, poised between upstairs and down. Zillah Grey, although she had a habit of lowering her eyes, did not strike me as modest. I suspected she did it because it was an excellent way of calling attention to those long thick eyelashes. She was certainly not without guile. She knew exactly how to behave with my father and he approved of her wholeheartedly.
    With me her attitude was more volatile. Sometimes she threw off all pretence. She would laugh uproariously and I noticed her accent changed a little—her words became more racy.
    It soon became clear that there were to be no set lessons.
    “What I have to do is prepare you for society, so your father tells me,” she announced.
    I was amazed. I could not imagine her being a great success in Edinburgh society, or even being accepted into it. What was she going to teach me?
    I asked her what I needed to know.
    “Clothes for one thing,” she said. “You have to make the best of yourself. You could be quite good-looking.”
    “Could be?” I said. “Surely one either is or one isn’t?”
    She winked at me. She had a habit of doing that when she was in certain moods. “That’s one of the things I’m going to teach you. Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”
    She said I ought to learn to dance. “Ballroom dancing, of course,” she added. “Is there anyone here who can play the piano?”
    “I don’t think so. I’ve had lessons. Miss Milne, my last governess, played well.”
    “Well, you can’t play and dance at the same time, can you? I’ll have to see what we can do about that. I can knock out a bit of a tune myself. I wonder if there’s someone who could partner you.”
    “You mean one of the maids?”
    “We’ll see about that. I’ll teach you how to walk.”
    “To walk?”
    “Gracefully. How to make the best of yourself.”
    “What about lessons … books and all that?”
    She wrinkled her kitten’s nose and laughed. “We’ll see about that, shall we?”
    She made her own rules. Often she went out and stayed out for several hours. I had no idea where she went.
    “It’s a funny way of going on, if you ask me,” said Mrs. Kirkwell. “I mentioned it to the master and got a flea in my ear for my pains. I don’t know what the world’s coming to.”
    It was certainly a strange situation.
    Only a week after she arrived she asked that the carriage should take her somewhere one afternoon. Hamish arrived at the door just as though she were a member of the family.
    The Kirkwells were watching from one of the windows when I came upon them.
    “What’s all this about?” she was demanding of her husband, unaware of my presence.
    “It’s a wee bit fishy to me,” he replied.
    Then they saw me.
    “That Miss Grey’s gone off in the carriage,” said Mrs. Kirkwell.
    “Yes, I know.”
    “Seems to think she owns the place. I