The Iron Storm by CW Browning (classic literature books TXT) 📕

the field, and she had to leave these memories and their baggage behind.

Evelyn looked up in surprise when a shadow fell over her corner of the back terrace. A man stood on the other side of the low, stone wall that surrounded the patio. He had a hat pulled low over his brow and, as she looked up, he took it off and nodded to her.

“Afternoon, Miss Ainsworth,” he said politely. “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Not at all, Hanes.” Evelyn closed her book and smiled at him. “It’s Rex, isn’t it? Your first name?”

“Yes miss, but I really don’t think it’d be proper for you to call me as such,” Rex said with a flash of surprisingly white teeth. “You can call me Hanes, if you don’t mind. Best to keep up the appearances.”

“All right, if you wish,” she consented. “I do feel silly, though. You may be playing a gardener, but I know we owe you a much larger debt for agreeing to be here. Have you settled in all right? Bill said you seem to be enjoying it.”

“I do. It’s a good corner of the world you have here.” Rex rubbed his neck. “It’s been very quiet. I’ll be surprised if our mystery man returns to cause any trouble.”

“I agree, but Bill seems to think there’s some danger of another break-in.” Evelyn tilted her head and studied the man over the wall. “If he does return, what are your orders?”

“To detain him,” he said promptly. “He’ll get a nasty welcome if he comes sneaking around again, that’s for certain.”

“Well, I’m very grateful that you’re here to keep an eye on things,” she said. “If my brother knew, I know he would add his thanks. We were both very worried about leaving my mother here alone.”

“I understand.” Rex hesitated, then grinned. “I saw you out shooting this morning. If you were here, I don’t fancy anyone’s chances, not with your eye.”

“Yes, well, I can’t be here so I’m very glad that you are.” Evelyn smiled. “I hope Auntie Agatha isn’t harassing you too much. I heard her complaining about the south lawn this morning.”

Rex chuckled and settled his cap back on his head.

“Your auntie doesn’t bother me one bit. Reminds me of my old Nin. I’d best be getting back before someone notices me talking to you. No sense in drawing attention to myself.”

Evelyn watched as he walked away and then turned her gaze to stare out over the rolling lawns. In the fall, while she was being chased from Oslo to Stockholm by the SS, someone had broken into the study here. Nothing was missing, which was odd enough, but there was no sign of anything having been touched either. Upon hearing about the strange incident, she’d immediately become suspicious. William Buckley, her handler, had also been disturbed by the break-in. So much so that he’d placed one of his men undercover as the new gardener at Ainsworth Manor to keep an eye on things. Well, to keep an eye on the box, she qualified to herself, setting the book aside and getting up to walk restlessly over to the low wall. It was all about the box that her father had left her right before he had the temerity to up and die in Switzerland.

Late afternoon sun drenched the rolling, manicured lawns as she gazed unseeingly into the distance. She had been trying to get the Chinese puzzle box open since Christmas, visiting home every chance she got to work on it. So far, it had all been for naught. Yet inside that box lay something that was worth breaking into the house to find, and she had to get it out.

Oh Dad, what if it’s finally the one I can’t figure out? She wondered, glancing up at the cloudless sky. What if I never find what it is you hid inside?

Evelyn turned her head sharply as something caught her attention to the left. There, in the distance, a black car was speeding up the long driveway on its way to the house. Frowning, she watched as it flew along, then gasped when she recognized the Lagonda.

Turning, she strode across the terrace and into the house, almost running through the drawing room until she reached the main hall. She skidded to a sudden stop in the vast, marbled hall when she almost ran into her Aunt Agatha.

“Auntie!” she gasped, grabbing her arm to steady herself.

“Good grief, child! Where are you tearing off to?” The tall woman steadied her and stared down at her in astonishment. “You came out of there like a bat out of hell.”

Aunt Agatha stood just shy of five foot eleven inches tall, and was as solid an Englishwoman as had ever been. Dressed in a tweed skirt and a matching brown tweed jacket, she looked every inch the English countrywoman. There could never be any doubt as to her heritage as a member of one of the oldest families in England. She was militant and terrifying, and Evelyn and Robbie were extremely proud to call her Auntie.

“I’m sorry, Auntie. It’s Robbie! I saw him driving up to the house from the back terrace.” Evelyn laughed and turned towards the front door. “Did you know he was coming?”

“Robbie!” Agatha set down the basket of freshly cut flowers that she was carrying. “No. He mentioned in his last letter that he might get a few days next month, but not a word about coming this soon. I’ll go and fetch Madeleine. She’ll be so happy!”

Evelyn nodded and ran to the door, pulling it open and stepping onto the front porch. The low-slung sports car that she and her brother shared was just rounding the curve to pull in front of the house. When she emerged, it beeped and she laughed, waving gaily. As soon as it stopped, she ran down the shallow steps.

A tall man got out and the sun caught his light brown hair, glinting against the golden highlights. As Evelyn