The Folly by M. C. Beaton Read Free Book Online

paused in the doorway. “Perhaps I should mention one little thing.”
    “Go on.”
    “Now that the Mannerling children are here every weekday and dine with us, perhaps the food supplied could be more appropriate fare for the children of Mannerling.”
    “The food is good and nourishing.”
    “I heard Mark telling his grandfather that he had sat down to rook-pie for the first time. I just thought I would mention it.”
    Miss Trumble smiled sweetly and left, closing the door very quietly behind her.
    Lady Beverley could not know her governess had been lying and that Mark had said nothing of the kind. She turned pink at the idea that the Blackwoods might think her parsimonious or, worse, poor. Josiah, the cook, must be ordered to spend more money on his cooking.
    Lady Beverley thought about getting out the accounts books to see if the extra money required could be pared from some other household expense but she caught the reflection of her face in the mirror over the fireplace. She thought she looked faded and tired. Lady Beverley had once been a great beauty, but lines of petulance, added to the lines of age, had given her face a crumpled look. Shemust start using proper washes and lotions. Her hand reached for the bell. Miss Trumble would know what to do. Then she hesitated. With any luck, Miss Trumble would soon not be around for very much longer, so it was better to get used to doing without her.
    In her room, Miss Trumble sat down before her travelling writing-desk and began to write busily. While she wrote, she decided to call on Lady Evans the following day.
    “Letitia!” exclaimed Lady Evans the following afternoon as Miss Trumble was ushered into the drawing-room of Hursley Park by the butler.
    “You look a trifle guilty,” said Miss Trumble, stripping off her gloves, “as well you should.”
    “What can you mean, my dear? Come, be seated and tell me your news.”
    “My news is that General Blackwood and his son, Charles, called on you and you saw fit to warn them against the Beverleys. Considering the totally criminal behaviour of your little friend Prudence Makepeace, I am surprised at you.”
    “You must admit, Abigail Beverley’s behaviour in snaring Lord Burfield was disgraceful.”
    “The thing you will not admit is that Burfield was and is madly in love with Abigail.”
    “Pooh, love is all a fancy.”
    “It seems to me that you must think so. I, on the other hand, love my charges dearly and do not want anything, or any malicious gossip, to stand in their way.”
    Lady Evans bridled. “‘Malicious’ is too strong a word. The general is an old friend. Even youmust admit, Letitia, that the Beverleys have been guilty of blatant plotting and manipulation to regain Mannerling.”
    Miss Trumble gave a little sigh. “That is in the past.”
    “And so it should be. Charles Blackwood is too old for any of them. Come, let us not quarrel. I swear I will not say a word against the wretched girls again. There. You have my promise. Are you still bent on keeping on such a demeaning job, one which is well below your position in life?”
    “No one knows about me except you, and no one must.”
    “Oh, very well. But it is all very strange.”
    “Lady Beverley is demanding my references.”
    “Awkward. Do you want one from me?”
    “No, I have written to several ladies who will supply me with the necessary letters.”
    “Why should she ask for them now?”
    “I do not know,” lied Miss Trumble, who had no intention of telling Lady Evans that Lady Beverley was setting her cap at the general and did not want competition.
    “I saw you arrive and driving yourself! Where is that servant, Barry?”
    “Oh, he is on an errand,” said Miss Trumble vaguely, and then began to wonder again how Barry was getting on.
    Barry was bored. He had slipped down the back stairs and had hidden on the grounds while the maids came in during the morning to clean the boy’s room. He planned to creep back when the coast was