Paradise Park Read Online Free Page A

decided, she would have a place like this, somewhere of her own. She smiled ruefully. Right now she needed to get a job. Then she could think clearly, make plans for her future: she did not intend to be in service for the rest of her life.
    The maid brought in a tea tray and smiled pleasantly at Rhiannon. ‘Like sugar in your tea, miss?’
    Rhiannon nodded. ‘Please – milk too.’
    The girl handed her the cup and Rhiannon looked at her curiously. ‘Do you like working here?’
    â€˜Oh, yes, miss. It’s my first job and though I did miss my mam and dad at first I soon settled in. Mrs Beynon is so kind, Mr Beynon too. I’m very lucky.’
    The girl seemed young, little more than sixteen. She had an air of innocence about her that Rhiannon envied. When she had been sixteen she had known nothing about kindness. All she knew was the dark underworld of street-walking. By seventeen she had lost count of the men she’d been with. Some were kind but some were rough, handling her as if she had no feelings. Even now the indignity of it all made her feel ill.
    Katie came back into the sitting room and sat down slowly, adjusting her legs to accommodate her belly. ‘I swear I’m getting heavier by the minute.’ She smiled. ‘Now, I’ve laid out some clothes on my bed. First we’ll have our tea, then go up and see how they fit you.’ She pointed to the plate of dainty cakes the maid had put on the table. ‘Go on, help yourself. I expect you’re still hungry.’
    Rhiannon took a cake to please her rather than because she wanted it. She felt uncomfortable, as though she was an intruder in Katie’s house. As soon as she could, she rose to her feet. ‘You sit here by the fire and I’ll go and find the clothes for myself. I don’t want to drag you upstairs again, do I?’
    Katie smiled and nodded, and eased off her shoes. ‘Go on, take anything you fancy. All my clothes are far too small for me.’
    Rhiannon went up the stairs, holding on to the polished banister. The sunlight poured in through the window giving the house a glow of warmth, and Rhiannon stood on the landing wondering which room she should look in. She opened a few doors and knew at once which one Katie shared with Bull. There was the scent of him here, the unmistakable, pleasant odour of a man. Her memories rushed in. She was in Bull’s arms, clinging to him, kissing him, being loved by him. He was the one man who had aroused any feelings in her; with Bull she’d learned that making love could be a beautiful, magical thing.
    She must get out of here quickly: knowing that Bull lived in this house, that he slept in this bed, was too much for her to bear. The pain of him leaving her for Katie was as raw as it had ever been.
    Quickly, she selected some clean, pressed clothes, a good woollen skirt with red and black stripes, and a jacket to match. When she was dressed she drew a red shawl around her shoulders and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was tangled over her face and, in spite of the fresh clothes, she still looked a sight.
    On the table was a silver-backed brush and Rhiannon picked it up and brushed her hair until it shone, then twisted it into a knot at the nape of her neck and pinned it into place. That was better. She looked like a respectable woman now, not an outcast from the workhouse.
    With a last look round, Rhiannon left the bedroom Bull shared with Katie – and heard the maid opening the front door for the master of the house to enter.
    â€˜Bull!’ Rhiannon murmured his name, but he seemed to hear her because he looked up and their eyes locked. Rhiannon took a deep breath: she must get a grip on herself – she couldn’t let Bull know that she was still in love with him. ‘Hello, Bull, I haven’t seen you for ages but I must say you’re looking very well.’ Her voice was light, and gave no indication of