Verity and the Villain (Seattle Fire Book 1) by Eloise Alden & Kristy Tate

Author:Eloise Alden & Kristy Tate [Alden, Eloise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-16T22:00:00+00:00

When they arrived at the Michaels’ farm, the food on the dining room table was still warm. Sunflowers had been arranged in a cut crystal bowl. Four white bone china place settings topped with sparkly goblets sat on the white lace tablecloth. The sun peeked through the spotless windows and cast a warm glow over the large dining room and steam rose from chicken stew in the colander.

“How?” Verity squeaked. “She didn’t know we were coming, right?”

Trent shrugged. “She’s always been omniscient.” A wheat roll emitted a fragrant puff when Trent picked one out of the basket and tore it in two. “It’s a little scary, but you get used to it.”

Verity stared at the prepared table, her skin crawling. “Are you sure you should eat that?” she asked, wondering if somehow the display of food could be an etiquette test or trick. “She must plan on returning momentarily.”

Trent popped the roll into his mouth and headed through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. Verity watched him disappear and stood in the middle of the dining room. She could see the sitting room with its expanse of wood floors, the tall pianoforte, and the elaborately carved fireplace mantle. Windows looked out over the valley and in the distance stood Mount Rainier. She swallowed hard. Tilly had told her Trent’s grandparents had been Seattle’s royal couple, but she hadn’t told Verity that they were so wealthy.

Verity fingered the fabric of her modest dress. Tilly had made it, had sewn the dozens of shell buttons down the back. Tears had come to Verity’s eyes when Tilly had given it to her. She had found the soft poplin beautiful, the hand tatted lace at the bodice and sleeves charming, but looking around at the opulent ranch house, Verity felt tacky, gauche and misplaced.

Seconds later Trent came back through the door. “Even the cook is gone,” he said, scratching his head.

Dorrie’s gaze darted around the room and her fingers plucked at her dress.

“It was a long drive,” Verity said, laying her hand on Dorrie’s arm.

Trent took the hint. “Would you like to rest?”

Verity shook her head. “I’m fine, but how about you, Dorrie?”

Dorrie sniffed and admitted she’d like to lie down. Trent led them to a library where floor to ceiling shelves of books lined the walls. After a moment of hesitation, Dorrie curled into a ball on a slipper chair and closed her eyes, but Verity slowly circled the room eyeing the books. How long would it take to read them all? A fireplace for chilly winter nights, a bay window with a cushioned nook for summer afternoons, a card table for friends and games.

“This is like heaven,” she whispered, awed by the possibilities. “Why would anyone ever want to leave?”

Trent watched her with an unfathomable look in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, with a husky voice. “Let’s go find Gram.”

He held out his hand and she slipped hers into his even though she thought she’d changed her mind and would rather stay in the library with Dorrie.

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