Seeds of April PDF
Preview Seeds of April
Seeds of April By Celia Scott Contents CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN SEEDS OF APRIL Getting married to Damon Everett, albeit only as a business arrangement, wasn't so bad, was it? After all, in return Philippa was getting a rich and attractive 'husband', a wardrobe full of glamorous new clothes, and a luxury visit to Crete. There had to be a catch somewhere, though… First published 1983 Australian copyright 1983 Philippine copyright 1983 This edition 1983 © Celia Scott 1983 ISBN 0 263 74300 4 You'll love me yet!—and I can tarry Your love's protracted growing; June reared that bunch of flowers you carry, From seeds of April's sowing. Robert Browning, Pippa Passes CHAPTER ONE With infinite care Philippa Kenmore filled the fragile interior of the gateau Saint-Honore with rich cream. Laying the empty pastry-bag aside, she absently tucked a wandering strand of honey-beige hair behind her ear and gave a sigh of satisfaction. Without a doubt this gateau was the best she'd ever baked. She consulted her loose-leaf business diary to check the rest of the menu Damon Everett had ordered for this evening's dinner party. 'Caviare'—that was easy, he always had jars and jars of it in his fridge, and he'd phoned earlier to tell her he had bought porterhouse steaks. All she had to do was pick up some fresh vegetables on her way to Wimbledon, and leave herself enough time to prepare a soup, in case his guest didn't like caviare. The next notation read—'Salad'—a simple one, with a tang of lemon. 'Rich dessert'— well, the Saint-Honore was rich all right. If he doesn't like it, Philippa thought, there's no pleasing the man. Not that Damon Everett found fault with her catering, it seemed. He had been hiring her to cook for him regularly for two months now. And apart from the fact that he didn't seem to like her any more than she did him, he never voiced any complaints. Indeed, he often paid her compliments about her culinary skills. But his compliments were delivered with a hint of mockery that made her wary of him. She checked the time and realised she was running later than she thought. Dashing into the bedroom of the ground floor flat she shared with her young sister Martha, she hastily changed out of blue jeans and pulled on one of her 'working uniforms', a plain brown skirt and cream blouse with a tan belt buckled around her slim waist. She tugged her glossy hair back and fastened it with an elastic band, peering into the mirror that hung above an old desk Martha used as a dressing table. She had to stoop to do this, because she was a very tall girl. Philippa stood five foot ten inches in her stockinged feet, and being slender as a reed she appeared taller. All her life she had towered over her peers, including her diminutive sister. Very subtly Martha had managed to instil into her older sister the notion that Philippa was a freak, clumsy, oversized, and graceless. And over the years Philippa had started to believe this propaganda. She felt like Gulliver among the Lilliputians.
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