Free Betrayal at Blackcrest by Jennifer Wilde Page B

silver— and the coachman my great-great-grandmother on Daddy’s side had just trained? All the first part of the book is devoted to those randy days before I was born. Randy? Is that a proper word to use?”
    â€œIt’ll do nicely,” I said.
    â€œMiss Lane,” Derek Hawke said. He looked at me with a grim expression.
    He had frowned when I mentioned my abilities at the typewriter, and he had grown increasingly more grim after my reference to the job with the taxidermist. He guessed my plan, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t trust me. That was just too bad. I couldn’t afford to let an opportunity like this go by. I had intended to stay in Hawkestown and find out as much as I could there. The opportunity to stay at Blackcrest itself was not to be missed, even if Derek Hawke was suspicious of my motives. I looked at him with wide eyes and gave him my most beseeching smile.
    â€œTo be perfectly frank, I could use the job,” I said. “And I would be on hand in case there were any developments—”
    â€œDevelopments?” Andrea Hawke said.
    Her nephew went pale. He gave me a frantic signal. I knew I had won the first round. He did not want his aunt to know what had happened and would do anything to keep the information from her, even if it meant he must let me take the job. The room was silent. Derek Hawke was fuming, very much in control of himself and determined to hide it from his aunt, yet fuming. He tapped his fingers on the yellow tablecloth. His eyes were burning as they held mine.
    â€œDevelopments?” Andrea Hawke repeated, impatient now. She didn’t miss much, despite her absent-minded chatter and apparently fuzzy comprehension. Behind that frivolous facade Andrea Hawke was as hard as nails, I thought. Her nephew was wary of her, and I felt sure he had good reason to be.
    â€œI think Miss Lane might be ideally suited for the job,” he said. This was spoken very slowly, and his eyes never left mine.
    â€œThat’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, dear,” she exclaimed, thoroughly delighted now. “She’ll be able to help me with my vocabulary, too, Derek. What a divine idea this was!” She took my hand in hers and pulled me toward the door. “Now, don’t forget to speak to Neil about the heating unit, and you must remind me to have a long talk with Jessie about the wine. Come, Miss Lane. You’re going to be delighted with the room I’ve chosen for you. I do hope you like cats.”
    â€œI adore them,” I lied.
    Derek Hawke seemed about to say something more. He restrained himself. He was standing silently by the table when we left the room.

7
    Andrea Hawke was laughing to herself as we left the room. I was reminded of a mischievous child who has just won a squabble. I figured that Andrea Hawke won most of the arguments she participated in. Her method of defeating her foe might be startling, but I had no doubt she was always ultimately the victor. In her own fuzzy way she was a dynamic creature. I would never make the mistake of underestimating her.
    She hurried down the hall, the fur coat flapping dustily, flashes of bright psychedelic color swirling about her knees. We turned a corner and began moving down a long corridor. One side was solid wall covered with dark oak paneling, and the other was made up of a row of windows that looked out over the gardens. The windowpanes were dirty, and there were no curtains. A few of the panes were broken. I was surprised to see cobwebs stretched silkily across the top corners of several. The odor of dust, decay, and mildew was overwhelming.
    â€œBlackcrest is so large,” Andrea Hawke said chattily as we sailed along the corridor, “it’s impossible to keep order—the girls are terribly fussy. Betty and Agnes, you know, just two, one for up, one for down, and then there’s Morris. They complain constantly, but they manage to keep the