The Girl in the Scrapbook Carolyn Ruffles (read an ebook week txt) 📖

about the girls whom, I confess, I love already. The eldest is Anne. She is like a little mother to her two younger siblings and is a very sweet, caring girl. She is quite serious and loves to read. Mary comes next and, although she is the quietest, she has a real sense of mischief. She likes to tease her sisters but then, when they berate her, she passes the blame onto Barclay (her teddy whom she has to have with her at all times!) Margaret is the youngest and, I think, the cleverest. She doesn’t like to miss out on anything so is always determined to do everything her big sisters do. This includes lessons, for which she is showing remarkable early aptitude. She is already reading and, despite Lady Collingworth’s praise, I deserve very little credit as I only need to show her something once and she remembers.

Although I adore the children and Lady Collingworth, I miss all my friends in Chalkham, especially you. I feel we parted in somewhat difficult circumstances and I am very much afraid that I may have hurt your feelings. If I have, please accept my sincerest apologies. I would love it were you to write back with all your news. I do so miss your friendship.

Yours,

Norah.

Norah put down her pen and read through her letter. It had been difficult to write but she hoped it struck the right tone. She had been putting off writing to Arthur ever since she had been at Collingworth and felt relieved that she had finally done it. Possibly, he had not been missing her at all - certainly not if she were to believe everything that her friend Gertie Bassett had written in a recent letter. By all accounts, Arthur had become quite the eligible bachelor of Chalkham and had several ladies chasing after him. Apparently, he had been courting Gertie’s older sister Agnes since Christmas and, Gertie reported, Agnes had informed her family that Arthur was quite smitten. Norah had frowned when she read that part. She remembered Agnes, a pretty girl with sultry, dark looks but also unscrupulous in getting what she wanted. If she wanted Arthur, the poor lad would stand no chance.

She sighed and looked out of her bedroom window. It was a crisp, clear January morning and she had the day to herself. Lady Collingworth and her daughters had piled into the Bentley earlier that morning to spend the day with her sister and her family in Norfolk and she was told she was not needed.

‘Amelia has more than enough staff to look after us all and you certainly deserve a day off,’ Lady Collingworth had declared. ‘I know you love riding so feel free to go down to the stables and ask for my mare if you wish or perhaps you’d like to go back home. Ask James to drive you.’

Norah had toyed with the idea of returning to Chalkham but had decided against it. Arthur would be working and she had no one else she particularly wanted to visit. Also, the invitation to go out riding was not to be passed up. That was something she really missed.

As she headed out to the stables, she reflected on her life at Collingworth. Everything she had written in her letter to Arthur was true but she had omitted a couple of things. Firstly, she had been disappointed that, no matter how hard she tried, the other staff steered clear of her and had rebuffed her attempts at friendship. They were all polite but distant and she had decided that her privileged position as Lady Collingworth’s nanny made her an outsider as far as the servants were concerned. This was a shame but she held her head high, continued to behave in as friendly way as possible towards the maids and waited for a thaw in their attitude towards her.

The other person who made her feel uncomfortable was Lord Collingworth himself. She usually only saw him at breakfast time when he was polite but taciturn. However, there was something about the way he looked at her when he thought she was not looking which made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. Indeed, she had seen the same kind of look when he watched the housemaids clearing plates or delivering eggs and bacon from the kitchen. It was a lascivious stare, as if he were undressing them with his eyes. The maids themselves were clearly aware of his attention and were nervous around him, keeping their eyes downcast and working as quietly and efficiently as they could. In fact, apart from the children, the only person who appeared completely unaware of his lustful glances was Lady Collingworth who chattered happily through mealtimes and generally ignored her husband. Norah found that she too had learnt the art of averting her gaze from the head of the table and trying to make herself invisible. Once, in the early days, she had briefly met his eyes and seen an unmistakeable intent burning there before he casually looked away. It made her shudder and the resolve to steer clear of him as much as possible was formed.

Joe in the stables saddled a small, grey mare for her to ride and helpfully suggested some routes she might try. Her horse was willing and Norah enjoyed some pleasant canters across the surrounding fields. She was heading back to Collingworth when she became aware of the sound of hooves behind her. Slowing to a walk, she turned around and her heart sank. It was Lord Collingworth himself on his beautiful, black stallion. He easily caught her up and walked his horse beside her.

‘I see you’re making the most of your day off,’ he said pleasantly.

‘Yes, thank you, sir,’ she replied. ‘It’s most generous of Lady Collingworth to loan me her horse.’

‘You’re obviously a very competent rider. You should take her out more often. I would be delighted to accompany you and show you my favourite rides.’

‘You’re very kind, sir,’ Norah demurred, ‘but