The Beekeeper's Daughter by Santa Montefiore Read Free Book Online Page B

hope so.’ She smiled back shyly.
    ‘And you’ll invent a cure for arthritis that will make you rich.’
    ‘I don’t think anyone would pay to be stung by a bee.’
    ‘Then you’ll have to find a way to bottle it.’
    ‘That could prove difficult.’
    ‘Not for a clever girl like you.’ His dark chocolate eyes twinkled warmly. ‘You’d better take back your bee or I’ll be late for lunch.’ He looked across the churchyard to where his parents were graciously extracting themselves from the crowd of townspeople. The Marchioness was wearing the most magnificent fox stole, even though it was summer. It was so intact the creature could easily have been asleep and not dead. Her husband’s face was hidden behind a thick grey beard. He resembled the King. Rufus watched them a moment, as if reluctant to join them any sooner than necessary. ‘Can’t be late for the vicar!’ he sighed.
    Grace gently lifted the bee with her fingers and placed it back on her arm. Rufus stood up and unrolled his sleeve. ‘I’ll tell my grandmother about your father’s remedy for arthritis,’ he said, threading the cufflink through the hole in his cuff. ‘I think the idea is a capital one.’
    ‘Oh, you mustn’t!’ she protested.
    ‘Oh, but I must. She’s an eccentric old bat. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she doesn’t come knocking on your door.’ He shrugged on his jacket. ‘Don’t worry, if it doesn’t work we won’t burn you at the stake for witchcraft. Bye now.’
    Grace watched him saunter off. He was tall and athletic with the bearing of a young man for whom life had been generous and kind. He walked with his shoulders back and his head high, and everyone who saw him smiled with admiration, for he was indeed attractive and charismatic. Grace’s heart began to beat at a regular pace again but her hands were still damp with sweat. She felt very hot. She was flattered that he had bothered to talk to a fourteen-year-old.
    Before she could dwell on it any further she was startled by Freddie, springing upon her from behind. The bee took fright and flew into the air. She rounded on him crossly. ‘Really, Freddie! You’ve scared her away!’
    ‘You and your silly bees,’ he retorted, sitting on the grass beside her. ‘What did he want?’ He nodded in the direction of the grown-ups, who were now beginning to disperse like homing pigeons. Rufus walked with his mother down the gravel path towards the waiting motor cars. Grace didn’t think she’d ever seen a more glamorous woman, even at the flicks.
    ‘He wanted the bee to walk up his arm,’ she replied.
    Freddie swept his auburn hair off his forehead. His skin was damp with sweat. ‘Strange man.’
    ‘He was nice.’
    ‘You’re a soft touch for anyone who shows an interest in your bees.’ He grinned at her mischievously. ‘Fancy a swim in the river after lunch? It’s boiling!’
    ‘Maybe,’ she replied. ‘Depends.’
    ‘On what?’
    ‘On whether you are man enough to let a bee walk up your arm like Rufus.’
    ‘So he’s Rufus now, is he?’ He elbowed her playfully – and a little jealously.
    ‘He said his name is Rufus.’
    ‘He’s the Earl of Melville. Lord Melville to you and don’t you forget it.’
    ‘Then I’m Miss Hamblin to you, Mr Valentine, and don’t you forget it.’
    Freddie laughed and stood up. ‘Find me a bee,’ he demanded, keen to show that he was as brave as Lord Melville.
    ‘All right. Let’s see.’ She ran her eyes over the daisies and buttercups that grew among the grass and spotted what could easily be the same fat bee which had only a moment ago walked up her arm. She bent down and picked it up as if it were as innocuous as a bird’s egg.
    ‘Come on, Freddie, don’t be a big girl!’ she teased. Gently, she placed the bee on Freddie’s arm. He trembled. She held his wrist as she had held Rufus’s but it didn’t excite her as Rufus’s had, for Freddie’s skin was almost as familiar as her own. Ever since