A Pretend Engagement Read Online Free Page B

listened for sounds of the electric motor that would tell her that Beaumont was making the most of his shower. She could hear nothing, so knew he was out of the shower.

     

    Preferring not to see him in any stage of undress, she decided against going up the stairs to give him his marching orders. He might be her brother's boss, but he wasn't hers. She was about to go back to the kitchen when she spotted a whole pile of junk mail on the floor by the front door. There was masses of it, and since she had cleared away anything that had come through the letter flap on her last visit...

     

    Thinking to occupy herself while waiting for his lordship-what on earth had Johnny been thinking to give him his key?-she went and collected up the mound of clear plastic covered unsolicited mail. Then she found that one was a plain white envelope.

     

    Taking the mail with her back to the kitchen, she knew that the only explanation for Beaumont being inside her property must be because Johnny had handed over his key. Now, why would he do that?

     

    She had a sudden flashback of standing with not a stitch on in front of the man her brother thought so highly of, and knew she was red about the ears. She swiftly busied herself opening up the unaddressed white envelope-and very quickly learned why, or part of why, her brother had parted with his key.

     

    The letter was from Mrs. Lloyd, the lady who had come to clean and cook for Grandfather Sutton, and was in response to a telephone call that Johnny had made to her. For all his name was not on the envelope, it began, `Dear Mr. Metcalfe'.

    I am sorry I wasn't in when you rang yesterday. And I am sorry too that I am not able to come and look after your guest. Apparently Mrs. Lloyd was now retired but, if Mr. Metcalfe was really stuck for someone, she had written the phone number of a Mrs. Roberts who might be willing, if he could call daily and collect Mrs. Roberts, who had no transport.

     

    Her breath caught as it hit Varnie that this was not intended to be just a one- night stopover, as she'd thought! So, she fumed, cross with Johnny and fuming against his employer, that was it. Leon Beaumont obviously fancied a bit of a break- away from outraged husbands, no doubt-and Johnny, doubtless mentioning Aldwyn House, had decided it would be an ideal spot for a hideaway. And, without doubt too, would not have needed much coercion to hand over his key. Naturally enough Johnny, being Johnny and aware that she wouldn't be around for at least two weeks because she was flying off to Switzerland, had seen no need to inform her of what was happening. She felt fairly certain then that Johnny, as ever Johnny, just hadn't thought to tell his womanizing employer that the property didn't actually belong to him.

     

    The sound of footsteps interrupted her angry thoughts. She looked to the door. Leon Beaumont stood in the doorway. He was tall, as she had known he was. And, just as she had known she would, she went crimson.

     

    He came further into the kitchen, but did not comment on her embarrassed colour; there wasn't so much as a hint of embarrassment about him, she noticed. But then, he was probably used to seeing the female form unclad, she fumed sniffily. Though before she could tell him that now that he was dressed she was throwing him out, he demanded, `What's your name?'

    As if it had anything to do with him! 'Varnie Sutton,' she answered snappily, and watched to see if her name meant anything to him. Clearly it didn't, so obviously Johnny had not thought to mention her. Not that he should in the ordinary run of things, but, dammit, this was her house! Realising that she was getting quite proprietorial about a house she would have to sell, Varnie decided it was high time she sent this man on his way. `And you're Leon Beaumont,' she began stiffly. `You-'

    `You know who I am?' Beaumont demanded.

    `Ever think you've wandered into someone else's nightmare?' she retorted.

    He ignored that.