Listen for the Whisperer by Whitney Phyllis A.;

Author:Whitney, Phyllis A.;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Romance
Published: 2017-05-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The household was in a bustle the next morning in order to be ready by the time Gunnar called to take us up the mountain. Laura, as usual, did not come down to breakfast, but ate lightly in her room. Donia, Miles, and I breakfasted in the dining room, and we were all slightly wary of one another.

Only Irene was in no rush, since she was not coming with us. Her position in the household was never quite clear-cut. Miles and Donia both had a tendency to treat her as an employed housekeeper. By Laura she was accepted on a more intimate basis. How she herself felt about her position, I didn’t know. She preferred to serve us at the table and eat her own meals leisurely by herself later. Yet she displayed no attitude of inequality with those she served.

The moment I finished my coffee I excused myself and went to my room to put on my borrowed winter clothes. I got into Laura’s beautifully cut brown ski pants, and a tan sweater with a bright zigzag design in green. We’d found that a pair of her brown boots fitted me comfortably, and I was lacing them up when Irene tapped at my door.

When I called to her she came in, bringing the Venetian red gown from The Whisperer.

“I’ve pressed it for you,” she said, and went to the wardrobe closet that occupied a space against the wall. It was a closet which held some of Laura’s clothes, and she pushed them along the rod to make way for the red dress. “Miss Worth saw me pressing it, and she also wishes to try it on.”

I stared at her back in surprise, and realized that something had agitated Irene. The very stiffness of her shoulders and neck hinted at some control she was exerting over her own feelings.

“But I thought she hated the sight of that dress,” I said. “I thought she didn’t want to be reminded of anything connected with The Whisperer.”

Irene hung the dress on the rod, and turned slowly about. “I don’t know what’s happened to her this morning. It’s not that she’s merely excited about the trip up the mountain. It’s as if she has grown suddenly younger. She’s a different woman today.”

“But that’s fine, isn’t it?” I said.

“I don’t like it.”

“Why not? Why should a change for the better worry you?”

Irene’s thin, solemn face trembled into lines of concern. “She’s talking too recklessly. She’s speaking of returning to Hollywood.”

“Oh, no!” My cry was involuntary. I tied the laces on my boot and leaned against the sofa back, waiting for Irene to go on.

“She says you’ve told her it’s possible for her to become a star again. She believes you. She says nothing is going to stop her.” There was restrained accusation in Irene’s tone.

“But yesterday she said she was too old, and that it was too late,” I protested. “What’s happened to change her mind?”

“She’s done some rearranging of her own thoughts. She’s discarding facts and replacing them with a dream.

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