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

boots.
    “It’s a lovely day,” he said. He smelled good, part fresh air with just a little lemony smell from his shaving lotion. Her toes curled automatically.
    “Yes it is.” Now she was regretting her jeans and sweater, her hair scrunched up into a ponytail, her face make-up free. “I really need to talk to you.”
    “Okay,” he said pleasantly. “We can have coffee in the drawing room.”
    “That big house in the valley, is that the Donnington’s place?”
    He gave her a sharp-eyed glance. “No.”
    “Oh.”
    “They live on the edge of the village. In a converted school house.”
    “Oh really.” She folded her lips together. Damn it, he would think she wanted to know where Edward Donnington lived!
    “They retired here. My Aunt Caroline’s husband was something important in the diplomatic service.”
    “Oh, I just assumed…” She shrugged.
    “I’m surprised Edward didn’t tell you. He enjoys boasting about the people his father associated with.”
    “He didn’t say anything about his parents.”
    “Curious.” But his tone was light as he said that word. “We’re not close. My aunt didn’t want to come back here but her husband did. He’s not from around here but he does like it and actually he fits in. People like him; he’s a bit of a doer, if you know what I mean.”
    “No.”
    “Parish council, caring for the community, that kind of thing. You’d think that would be Caroline’s thing but it isn’t.” The car turned into the stables. After it was parked they walked leisurely towards the house; he slowed his long-legged to stride to accommodate her.
    “You go into the drawing room; I’ll ask Mrs. Carrington for coffee.”
    That’ll make me popular, she thought, we’re having coffee alone instead of in the kitchen.
    That was where she knew he usually took his coffee. There was no real formality in this house, that much she’d gathered.
    However, it wasn’t Mrs. Carrington who brought the tray, but Seth. “She had it all ready!” he announced. “That’s what I call efficient.”
    “Mm, yes.” She thought it better to say something, Mrs. Carrington, efficient or not, was not one of her favorite people. It was, Poppy knew, because the woman was hostile. And hostile without cause. After all she wasn’t Jasmine and Poppy thought the woman should have given her a chance to prove that. But she’d assumed they were the same, which was what was so unfair.
    “Now,” Seth announced, when he’d poured the coffee and spread himself in the easy chair. He had that easygoing confidence she liked. He was a man comfortable in his own skin and he wasn’t going to change for anyone. What a pity Jasmine hadn’t recognized that about him.
    “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
    “About my leaving.”
    “About that.” He smiled a warm all-encompassing smile. “Funnily enough I was going to talk to you about that as well.”
    “Oh.” She flushed. He wanted rid of her. “That’s a coincidence.”
    “Yes.” He leaned forward. “Look, Poppy, you gave up a lot to come here, mostly your job. I imagine you have to work?”
    “Yes,” she confirmed but quietly, almost with a question.
    “I need someone to help me with my latest book.”
    She swallowed. “About that. What kind of books do you write?”
    “Well, not porn if that’s what you’re thinking.”
    She managed to let a little giggle escape. “I wasn’t!”
    “Political thrillers. What else? It’s what I know best. The thing is this latest one I wrote by hand. I mostly write straight on the computer but I don’t like working on those tiny keyboards and I was travelling when I started. You know it was almost like being reborn; I really enjoyed doing it that way. Trouble is the idea of typing it up leaves me cold. My agent’s baying at my door. He wants it. Could you type it up for me? I’d pay you the going rate. It would give you an excuse to stay on for a bit. I’m sure Jasmine can’t be away much