Read Paradise Park for Free Online Page B

grateful to you for your kindness.’
    â€˜I’m sure Hetty or Vi would have done the same if you’d asked them, they’re not bad girls.’
    â€˜No, but they would have pulled a face. Last time I asked Hetty for a bowl to soak my feet in she told me it wasn’t part of her job, cheeky dab.’ She watched as Rhiannon built up the fire. ‘Sit down, girl, you’re looking tired yourself.’
    â€˜I think I will, Mrs Jones.’ Rhiannon sat at the table and rested her elbows on the white-scrubbed top. ‘I am tired, but I’m enjoying the work much more than I thought I would. Sometimes I can pretend I’m keeping house for myself.’
    â€˜Some hope, Rhiannon. You’ll never own a house like this, unless you get a rich man for a husband.’
    â€˜I won’t ever depend on any man,’ Rhiannon said. ‘Sometimes I feel sorry for Mrs Buchan. She’s not happy, is she? She never shares a room with Mr Buchan.’
    â€˜Don’t blame her neither!’ The cook fanned her face with her apron. ‘That man has bedded more women than we’ve had roast dinners.’
    â€˜Well, we don’t know that for sure, do we?’
    â€˜Yes, we do.’ Mrs Jones smiled wickedly. ‘The girls come back to me with plenty of gossip from the maids of other big houses. And I’ve heard the pair of them quarrelling. Mrs Buchan was telling him to sling his hook one day, but he won’t go – not him! He’s too keen to get his hands on Mrs B’s railway shares, whatever they are.’
    â€˜How do you know that?’
    â€˜Because he keeps on about them. He asks her all the time to give him some and she always refuses. In a ladylike way, mind.’
    The cook leaned closer to Rhiannon and lowered her voice. ‘That Mr Fairchild’s been round here a lot.’ She nodded, and her chins wobbled. ‘I think he’s got a liking for Madam and she for him.’
    â€˜Oh, I don’t think Mrs Buchan would do anything improper,’ Rhiannon said. ‘She’s a nicely brought-up lady, isn’t she?’
    â€˜Aye, well, a woman gets lonely when she goes to an empty bed every night. Mrs Buchan’s got hot blood in her veins, I’ll wager.’
    Rhiannon sipped her tea. It was hot and sweet and she savoured the taste as she tried to imagine Mrs Buchan in bed with a fancy man. Rhiannon wouldn’t blame her: she had seen for herself how the woman’s husband treated her. It was strange how fate wove its web: she had known many men and Mrs Buchan only one – perhaps it would do her good to find a lover.
    â€˜Doesn’t Mr Buchan notice that this Fairchild man is interested in his wife?’
    Mrs Jones shook her head. ‘Don’t seem to care. I wouldn’t be surprised if he planned it all.’
    â€˜Why would he do that?’
    â€˜I don’t know. Perhaps it would ease his conscience if Mrs Buchan was to fall from the straight and narrow like he’s done.’
    Rhiannon doubted it: men were not made like that – at least, not the men she had known. They guarded their women with a ferocity that had nothing to do with love. It was all about holding on to what was theirs.
    A sudden clanging of saucepans from the scullery made Mrs Jones jump. ‘
Duw
, those girls are noisy.’ She chuckled. ‘Just as well, mind. I was about to drop off.’ She pushed the bowl of water away gently with her foot. ‘Get Hetty to empty that out the back then give it a good scrubbing. Oh, and pass my shoes and stockings. It’s time I got back to work.’
    â€˜Have another cup of tea and rest yourself for a while longer – you deserve it.’ Rhiannon took the bowl into the scullery. ‘Hetty, will you throw the water out in the yard then wash the bowl, please?’
    â€˜What’s wrong with you doing it, then?’ Hetty said sharply.
    â€˜Because I’ve other work