The Flower Girls by Margaret Blake Read Free Book Online Page A

girl. Poppy went to college to take business studies and also took a secretarial course part-time. It wasn’t what she saw herself doing for the rest of her life but she thought it might be useful. It wasn’t that she was plain; that she didn’t have a personality, that she wasn’t fun to be around. It was just that no one saw her when Jasmine was there. Sighing, not liking where this indulgence was leading, Poppy left the seat; she stretched up her hands and started to do a couple of exercises. Not enjoying it without the music, she went and rummaged in her bag until she found her i-pod. That was much better. Salsa tunes always got her going. Anything with a fast Latino beat was good; soon she felt the warmth of perspiration breaking out all over her body, her breath came in little gasps. This was good.
    A hot shower revived her. She’d been here just short of a week, Jasmine hadn’t been in touch, and it was time to go.
    I have to be strong, she counseled herself, and not get sucked in. I could so easily get sucked in here, staying until Jasmine decides to come back, but what good would that do?
    It was painful to admit that she was very attracted to Seth Sanderson but that she had to walk away. It didn’t matter what he said, he was her sister’s husband. They had to sort out their problems. She wasn’t going to push between them and make matters worse. Besides, she knew Seth couldn’t be serious about her. Who would be while married to Jasmine? Jasmine might not be playing fair but she was Jasmine. He had to come to terms with that. He’d never be able to tie that particular bird down and he had to have known that anyway. He wasn’t an idiot, he’d travelled the world, and he had to be good at sizing up people.
    Trying to find where Seth was proved difficult. Mrs. Carrington wasn’t communicating, stating she didn’t know. Poppy tried the library; he wasn’t there. Other rooms too were empty. There was his bedroom but she didn’t know where that was and anyway wouldn’t dare that particular den.
    Outside it was fresher than it had been since she arrived. The sun was warm on her back as she crossed the forecourt. Going to the back of the house, she looked in the stables. No horses were kept now. The buildings were used for garaging cars. Seth’s Range Rover was there but she knew he also had a smaller car that Mrs. Carrington often used. That wasn’t there. Obviously he’d gone out, but somewhere local.
    It was too pleasant to go back inside so she strode along the lane. This time she turned left. The road was steep after a while and then it dipped down into a deep valley. There was a large house in the valley. Smoke curled from the chimneys. Surmising this was the Donnington home, Poppy turned on her heels and marched back towards Heaton Grange. She was only about a quarter of an hour’s walk from the house when she heard a car. A steady thrumming, not the roar of Edward’s car, thank goodness. Pressing herself into the wall, she waited for the car to pass. The car eased by, and as she saw the rear of the vehicle she realized it had to be Seth. It was a dark green popular make for sure, but it had to be him on this lonely road. Yet he hadn’t stopped to offer her a ride. She’d jumped well into the side of the road, pressing herself into the wall; perhaps he’d not even noticed her.
    Setting off at a brisk pace, she heard the hum of an engine. Remarkably the car was backing up.
    He did see me!
    She waited to be sure, standing well into the side of the road; once the car pulled alongside her she saw it was indeed Seth Sanderson.
    “Sorry, I was miles away. I saw someone and thought they were working on the wall… I only realized it was you when I checked my rear view mirror. Want to hop in?”
    Not really, she was about to say, I want to walk .
    But she weakly acquiesced and slid in beside him. He was wearing a check shirt, the sleeves rolled up, dark green cords, and lightweight