Withering Heights by Dorothy Cannell Read Free Book Online

gathering up the tea things. Time for bed.
    I was thinking it was nice that Mrs. Malloy had Lord Rake-hell waiting for her upstairs when an ill wind blew my cousin Freddy into the room. With his long hair, beanpole figure, and dangling skull-and-crossbones earring, he never projects the image of a young man about town, but women—including Mrs. Malloy—for some impenetrable reason dote on his every leer.
    “Hello, my nearest and dearests!” He spread his arms wide, his scraggly beard parting in an ecstatic grin.
    “Keep creeping up on us like this and I’ll ask for your key back.” I eyed him severely. “You almost made me drop theteapot, and it’s irreplaceable. Woolworth’s doesn’t sell this pattern anymore.”
    “You’re all wet from the rain. You need to dry off, Freddy dear.” Sounding ridiculously motherly, Mrs. Malloy looked around as if hoping to find an assortment of freshly aired towels at her elbow.
    “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Ben asked the source of the wet footprints.
    “I thought with the children gone from the nest, an evening down at the pub might be in order. Who’s game?” Freddy swept us with his beneficent gaze.
    “Well, I would be,” said Mrs. Malloy, “but the thing is I need to get a decent night’s sleep, so’s to be up with the birdies to get me packing done before setting out for Yorkshire to see me sister.”
    Before Freddy could say he didn’t know she had a sister, I explained I was accompanying her and also needed my full ration of slumber. That left Ben to take the hint and graciously bid Freddy adieu. But that didn’t happen.
    “Sure, I’ll come along.” No sign of a yawn anywhere close to his face now. He exuded energy. “You don’t mind, do you, Ellie?”
    “Of course not! I’ll be happy knowing you’re having fun.” And then I’ll go to bed and look at the ceiling, I thought.
    “ ’Right then! We’ll be off.” He kissed the top of my head. “Ready, Freddy?”
    Did he have no idea that I wanted to pull off his ears? In all fairness, probably not. The sunny smile I gave him would have done wonders for my acting career, had I had any aspirations to go on the stage. As Mrs. Malloy had so profoundly said, it didn’t do to be a spoilsport.
    “Are you sure you’re all right with this, Ellie?” He had turned around and taken hold of my hand.
    “Absolutely.” I prodded him toward the door. “I’ve got a book,
Lord Rakehell’s Redemption
, that I’m dying to read, if I can just lay my hands on it. I’m hoping there’ll be a murder. That’s always the best part, isn’t it, Mrs. Malloy.”
    When would I learn to keep my mouth shut?

3

    S hortly after Ben and Freddy left, Mrs. Malloy headed upstairs—supposedly to prepare mentally for her reunion with Melody but probably to lose herself in machinations that would ultimately result in Lord Rakehell’s transformation from villain to devoted husband. Ha! I stomped into the kitchen to bewail the treachery of men in general and Ben in particular.
    Feeling abandoned and heartily sorry for myself, I got busy at the sink, sloshing cups and saucers around in water both too hot and too soapy. My children were gone. My husband had left me. Even my cat had turned tail and gone outside, refusing to come back in when I called, in spite of the rain. Why hadn’t I gone with Ben and Freddy to the Dark Horse?
    The answer rumbled down from the thunderous night sky. Because I’d relished cutting off my nose to spite my face. Havinglaboriously dried the last plate, I was left with nothing to do beyond kicking myself in the shins. To go up to bed leaving Tobias outside was not an option. After another futile endeavor to lure him back inside with the promise of taking him to see
Cats
for his birthday, I trailed disconsolately back to the drawing room, where I was made further despondent by finding the dismembered feather duster buried under a chair. Reflecting that with my luck it would turn out to be on the