Searching For Captain Wentworth Read Online Free

She
laughed. ‘Tall, dark and handsome … and single, I think. I wouldn’t mind him living downstairs from
me if I hadn’t got Martin.’
    I laughed too.
‘I shall go and knock on the door and introduce myself then, see if I can borrow a cup of sugar.’
    ‘Well, I’m sure
you must need some help with something if you’re just moving in. Don’t you need any shelves
putting up?’ She laughed again.
‘You know, he might be “handy”.’
    ‘Shelves are
something I definitely don’t need. The place is stuffed full. I feel as if I’ve dropped into a Jane
Austen novel and that the last
time the place was occupied was about the same time. Don’t get me wrong, it’s got promise and it’s full
of beautiful things, but it’s
filthy and the only vacuum cleaner has just blown up.’
    ‘We’ve got a
spare one if you want to borrow it,’ Lara offered generously. ‘Have one on permanent loan; if you
like, we never use it. I’ll get
someone to bring it round, then perhaps the handsome Josh can carry it upstairs for you.’
    Lara did make me
smile. ‘Thank you so much. That would be w onderful, though I am sure I can manage.’
    ‘I’ll send it as
soon as you like.’
    Half an hour
later I was back at the flat, armed with dusters, the promised vacuum cleaner and an array of
chemicals guaranteed to blitz
the place of ninety nine per cent of all known household germs. I worked so hard that my Dad, or anyone else
who knew me, would not have
recognized the cleaning machine I became. It took three hours but, at the end of it, the living room,
kitchen and bedroom
positively gleamed. My bed was made, its curtains having come up beautifully for a good beating, and I’d
managed to light a fire in there,
so it would be quite cosy by the time I was ready to collapse for the night. I arranged all the blue and
white china on the plate rack in
the kitchen; the sink, surfaces and floor were all scrubbed and smelling pleasantly of disinfectant. I
even managed to light the
ancient gas stove and felt the kind of satisfaction that I’m sure every proper housewife must feel, when all
is in its place and neat as a
pin.
    I left the
living room until last. By pulling the sofa nearer to the fire and positioning the little tables so that
I could just set down a cup or
a book without having to get up, I transformed the whole room. The flames licked up the chimney with a
pleasing crackle and I felt for
the first time that I might enjoy myself in Bath, after all. I was just reuniting a porcelain shepherdess
with her shepherd on the window
ledge when I heard a noise below, the sound of movement and the bang of the front door shutting.
The clock on the mantelpiece was
striking the hour, I remember hearing five chimes as I looked out at the gloomy scene. Huge, dark
clouds that threatened rain
had replaced the earlier sunshine and the day, which had started so spring-like and uplifting, had
completely returned to wintry
dreariness.
    And then I saw
him. Well, I saw the back of him, which was the next best thing. He was tall and broad shouldered with dark, curly hair waving over the upturned
collar on his jacket, his blue
jeans showing a lean physique. My neighbour was standing on the broad pavement outside waiting for
the traffic to clear and
fiddling with the catch on an umbrella, as large raindrops started to fall out of the sky. He seemed to be
looking for something,
checking his pockets, before putting up the huge, black umbrella that obscured any chance of a glimpse at
his face. I could see what Lara
meant; he definitely had something about him even from the back. It was then that I noticed that he’d
dropped something, white
and crumpled, but I couldn’t decide whether it was really something or nothing. I didn’t quite
know what to do. I didn’t want to
bang on the window because he’d instantly know I’d been watching him and as it was I felt a little
like I’d been spying on him. I
watched him cross the road. He was heading off in