King Devil by Charlotte MacLeod

Author:Charlotte MacLeod
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504045063
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2017-03-28T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Culinary marvels were being wrought in the kitchen. The dining room table, already laid for four, was a work of art. Lavinia didn’t bother to make a token offer of help. Her part was to make herself presentable before the fly walked into the spiderweb, and that was going to take all the time she had available.

She chose an evening frock of baby-blue silk adorned with tiny pink rosebuds and fluttering ribbons. It would have looked exquisite on some petite, fluffy-haired china doll. On her it was total disaster, which was precisely what she had in mind. Zilpha couldn’t find fault with the gown because she herself had picked it out, yet the effect would have to discourage Roland.

If Athelney noticed, however, he must have been looking through remarkably thick rose-colored glasses. He agreed, with every appearance of sincerity, when Miss Tabard cooed, “How charming you look in that sweet frock, Lavvy dear.”

Making so personal a comment in mixed company must have strained Zilpha’s rules of propriety, but there was no time for niceties if she expected to have dear Lavvy off her hands by the time she was ready to leave Dalby. Lavinia began to wonder if Tetsy’s nasty tricks were entirely her own idea. Could Zilpha have dropped a hint that it might be wise to make Lavvy just a teensy bit uncomfortable, so that she wouldn’t balk at being unloaded on a dull young man with uncertain prospects?

A month ago, even last week, such a thought would never have entered Lavinia’s head. Now she didn’t know what to think, but what difference did it make? She didn’t need to marry anybody’s tame rabbit. She was earning her own keep.

The thought was so exhilarating that, without meaning to, she began to sparkle. By the time they had left the table for the fireside, Zilpha was looking quietly complacent and Tetsy almost stunned.

“You mustn’t mind our informality, Roland,” said his hostess gaily. “We couldn’t bear to leave you alone to take your port at the table. We may even be very daring and join you in a glass. Tetsy, will you start the decanter?”

“Certainly, Zilpha. Port for you, Lav?” growled the companion.

“No, thank you. Roland, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how long has it been since that picturesque old sawmill was in operation?”

“Gosh, Lavinia, I couldn’t say. Not since my time, anyway. From what I’ve heard, it must be quite a while since any lumber was cut here. I believe it was Mr. Jenks’s great-grandfather who built the mill. Then his son became a builder, and that’s how they got into being architects.”

“How did it work? Where did the water power come from? Surely that little trickle that runs through the backyard now couldn’t drive a mill wheel. Did the stream dry up, or what?”

“Oh, no, there’s plenty of water to drive it still, if anybody took the notion. You’ve probably noticed that the stream runs down over the top of the hill, through that little gully?

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