The Woman From Paris by Santa Montefiore Read Free Book Online Page B

dog, devouring books he had ordered on Amazon.
    He opened the door, and Rufus, his golden Labrador, bounded out of the kitchen to greet him. Trevor, the farm manager, had taken him off for the day, returning him home after a long walk at six. Rufus loved Trevor, who had two mongrels and a garden full of chickens, but he loved David most of all, and jumped up in his excitement to see him.
    David let him out to stretch his legs, and the two of them walked briskly around the lake. The moon was bright, lighting up the water so that it shone like hematite. The air was damp and sweet with the smell of regeneration. He heard the mournful hooting of a tawny owl calling to its mate, followed by the tinny cough of a pheasant as it was awoken by Rufus and driven into the sky in alarm. David loved the mystery of the night. He looked about him, at the thick shrubs and bushes, and wondered how many eyes were quietly watching him through the darkness. He enjoyed walking through their secret world and forgetting himself.
    As he strode on, his mind wandered to Phaedra and the embarrassed look on her face when Julius had brought up the subject of his father’s will. She was clearly aware she might appear moneygrubbing and keen to show that she wasn’t. Julius, on the other hand, had no shame. As executor of the will, he was concerned only with making sure that George’s wishes were carried out. David wondered whether Phaedra would show up for the meeting—or indeed for the weekend his mother intended to invite her to stay. She had scurried out of thelibrary like a frightened rabbit. He knew there was a good chance he’d never see her again.
    He returned home and made himself a cup of tea. Content in his routine, Rufus curled up on his blankets in the corner of David’s bedroom, closed his eyes, and fell asleep instantly. David showered then climbed into bed to read his book. But his gaze meandered, and he lost track more than once. It was no good. He was unable to concentrate. He put his book on the bedside table and turned off the light. A wave of apprehension washed over him. The world seemed so much bigger without his father in it.
    *   *   *
    On Monday morning Antoinette telephoned Julius to arrange the reading of the will. She told him to invite Phaedra, which seemed to make Julius very happy. “You’re doing the right thing, Lady Frampton,” he said cheerfully. “Lord Frampton would be very pleased.” When she put down the telephone, she felt an unexpected happiness fill her chest with the warm feeling of doing something good. She gazed out of the study window to where Barry the gardener was cutting the winter grass into bright green stripes with his little tractor. There was something reassuring about the rumbling noise it made, and she realized that in spite of such a monumental change, life at Fairfield would continue as it always had.
    She remained a moment at the window. She noticed the phosphorescent color of the new grass and the promise of red tulips peeping through the earth in the lime walk. A pair of blue tits played about the viburnum. Spring had found her stride once more, and the sun shone with a bright new radiance. Antoinette inhaled deeply and realized that she’d forgotten how soothing it was to observe the wondrous work of Nature.
    Barry waved as he motored by. She waved back and smiled wistfully. It had been so long since she’d taken an interest in the gardens. Barry was always coming in to ask her this or that, but her response was always the same: Whatever you think, Barry . She knew she disappointed him, because his feelings showed all over his face. But shehadn’t had any surplus energy to put into the gardens. George had been very demanding, requiring her to be in London when he wasn’t traveling, to entertain friends at the ballet or the opera or just for dinner, and at weekends the house had always been full. She gazed out onto the world with new eyes and couldn’t help feeling that, in