The French Gardener by Santa Montefiore Read Free Book Online Page A

very lucky to have you. Tell me, how well does she cook?”
    He rubbed his belly. “The little wife? She’s a good woman. No one can cook like Mrs. Underwood.”
    Miranda decided to take a gamble. Desperation compelled her to be impulsive. “We’re looking for a cook,” she said. Mr. Underwood’s weathered face widened into a smile and his round cheeks shone pink.
    “Look no further, m’lady. Mrs. Underwood will feed you all up good and proper. Used to cook for Mrs. Lightly when she had visitors.”
    “So she knows the place?”
    “Aye, she does.”
    “Would she have the time?”
    He nodded eagerly. “Aye, she’s got time all right. Little nippers are grown up now with nippers of their own.” Miranda’s mind was racing.
    “I’d like to meet Mrs. Underwood,” she said firmly. “Perhaps she could come up tomorrow and cook Sunday lunch for thefour of us. As for you, Mr. Underwood, let me speak plainly. This place is a mess and you clearly know a thing or two about gardens. Perhaps you could start sweeping leaves and chopping logs so we can light our fires and I’ll keep looking for someone”—she hesitated, anxious to find the right word so as not to offend him—“to work with you on the landscaping side. I think this place requires two pairs of hands, don’t you?”
    Mr. Underwood nodded slowly. He didn’t quite understand what she meant by landscaping. However, he loved chopping logs and lighting fires, and was already envisaging vast mountains of leaves.
    “I’ll pay you eight pounds hour and you do as much as you’re able.”
    “That’s as good to me as plum pudding, m’lady,” he replied, clearly pleased.
    “Call me Mrs. Claybourne,” she added.
    “Mrs. Claybourne, m’lady.”
    She sighed and let it go. “You can start on Monday and don’t forget to tell Mrs. Underwood to come up tomorrow, if she can—perhaps she could call me to discuss details.”
     
    David returned from Cate’s Cake Shop in a good mood. He strode into the kitchen where Miranda was roasting a chicken and grabbed her around the waist, kissing her neck behind her ponytail. “You were right about that coffee. It’s given me a real buzz. Charming people, too. I can’t think why we never explored before. It’s a quaint place.”
    “Do you like it?” She turned to face him, leaning back against the Aga.
    “I had a little chat with the locals, gave them a bit of advice about their businesses.” He smiled mischievously.
    “Oh, David, you didn’t?”
    “Of course I didn’t. What do you take me for, a pompous ass?”
    “I should hope not!”
    “I chatted to Cate, who’s definitely hot for me. Colonel Pike—asked him a bit about the war. They all knew who I was. Of course, I can’t remember them all by name, but they were suitably deferential. I think I’m going to enjoy being lord of the manor. Should spend a little more time down here. It’s like living fifty years ago. Can’t think why we didn’t move out sooner.”
    “That Cate’s a snake in the grass. Watch out for her.”
    “Saw your notice up on the board. Sweet!”
    “It’s not sweet. It’s practical. You’ll see, it’ll do the trick.”
    “Let’s hope so. The lady of the manor shouldn’t be getting her fingers dirty in the garden and cleaning the house. I want my wife to have the smooth hands of a duchess.”
    “Lucky my work is all at the computer then, isn’t it?”
    “How did your meeting with Mr. Underwood go?”
    “He’ll do, for the moment. We still need a proper gardener. He can do odd jobs, raking leaves, mowing, logs, that sort of thing. His wife is coming to cook lunch tomorrow. She used to cook for the previous owners.”
    “I’m impressed, darling.” He lifted her chin. “I never thought you’d pull it all together.”
    “I’ve been so busy…” He silenced her with a kiss.
    “Shhh. Don’t forget your biggest client!”

IV
The crab-apple tree laden with fruit
    Miranda awoke in the middle of the night. David