Read Gracie's Sin for Free Online

it seemed. No, what Rose did object to, quite strongly, was finding herself waiting on the ubiquitous Gertie, in addition to her brother.
    On this subject, at least, Rose made no attempt to hold her tongue. Only the other day she’d had call to remind her that it was the housekeeper’s responsibility to wash the curtains, and not her job at all.
    ‘Why do it then?’ Had been Gertie’s swift response. ‘Nobody asked you to.’
    ‘On the contrary, Eddie asked me to. He’s as sick as I am of windows festooned with cobwebs. We can hardly see out.’
    Gertie had given a careless shrug. ‘’Oo is there to do the lookin’, ‘ceptin us?’ On the wrong side of forty she was plump, bone idle, took too few baths and had the kind of raucous laugh and loud voice which filled Rose with embarrassment every time the woman opened her mouth. On this occasion as on many another, she’d flounced off in high dudgeon, no doubt to complain to Eddie that his sister was picking on her again.
    This morning she stirred, grunted, lifted her tousled head and blinked at Rose, before sinking back under the covers.
    ‘You haven’t forgotten about lunch,’ Eddie sharply reminded her as Rose slid the tray over his lap, and she flushed bright pink because of course she had forgotten. Entirely. She’d planned to spend this unexpectedly glorious autumn day cutting out the old raspberry canes and tying up the new ones. Now she would have to waste the whole morning sweating over a smoky kitchen stove, cooking for his layabout friends, and no doubt cleaning up after them for the rest of the day. He would also expect her to be suitably agreeable, laugh at their jokes, simper and flirt, as he did with all the other misfits he brought to Clovellan House. Rose shuddered at the prospect.
    ‘No, no, of course I hadn’t forgotten. How many did you say were coming? Three?’
    ‘There’ll be six of us. For God’s sake Rose, can’t you remember a damned thing?’ He tapped his egg, growled about its hardness and demanded to know what she planned to cook for them.
    ‘Sorry, but it’ll have to be good old Woolton Pie again. We’ve loads of vegetables at least,’ Rose said, thinking of her empty cupboards. No doubt his guests would also use up the last of the parsnip wine, leaving them bereft before winter even started. Though that might be no bad thing. Eddie had been plundering Lord Clovellan’s wine cellars even more recklessly than usual of late, and Rose wondered if something was troubling him. He’d certainly become increasingly irascible.
    She plumped up his pillows, hoping to keep him in a good mood, thinking how he seemed older than his years, tired looking, hair dark and greasy, a stubble of several days growth on his sunken cheeks and sharply jutting jaw. The eyes bore dark bruises beneath the reddened rims.
    ‘Vegetable pie! Not again,’ he complained, his voice tetchy. ‘It’s time you got yourself better organised, girl. I told you to get beef steak or chops. Or chicken would be nice.’
    ‘It would also be quite impossible. If you want to continue to have eggs for your breakfast, hard or not, we can’t start killing off the hens, we’ve barely a dozen left.’ Rose paused at the bedroom door long enough to offer him her most stunning smile and, as so often before, he was startled by her loveliness. The heart-shaped face with its olive-skinned perfection framed by a mane of wildly curling black hair and eyes as blue as a Cornish sea, was a sight worth seeing. But if such beauty was wasted on himself, he had plans to put it to good purpose. She owed him that much at least. He realised she was still talking. ‘Don’t worry, I shall liven it up with powdered egg and tomatoes, we’ve plenty of both of those. Followed by lovely apple dumpling. I’m sure your friends will be very happy with that.’
    Eddie felt a stirring of unease as he struggled to imagine the fastidious Dexter Mulligan happily tucking into homely pies and