The Girl Under the Olive Tree

The Girl Under the Olive Tree Read Free Page A

Book: The Girl Under the Olive Tree Read Free
Author: Leah Fleming
Tags: Next
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distaste. ‘But I suppose one of our brats had to inherit your Greek colouring, Phillip. Sit up straight, girl, for once. You need fattening up.’
    ‘I’m not a turkey for Christmas. I’d really like to go to college, take exams. I don’t want a season. If it’s the expense, think of the money you’d save. I could earn my keep. Miss Francis said there were courses—’
    ‘No granddaughter of Sir Lionel Dellamane gets a job.’ Fabia spat out the word as if it was poison and that was the end of the conversation. She stormed off, leaving Penny in tears of frustration.
    Her father sighed. ‘Bad luck, old girl, but she really wants the best for you.’
    ‘She wants the best for herself,’ Penny muttered out of earshot. Her mother was nothing but a snob. The titled Dellamanes might go back to the Conquest but their wealth came from banking, and the success of Lady Fabia’s husband’s Greek grandfather in trade, from shipping, something she chose to ignore, anglicizing his surname whenever she could. Penny was a reminder of that heritage; a dark-eyed blonde with walnut-coloured arms.
    Yet the changing of their name was the one concession that Fabia had not been able to force through. Phillip was proud of his family and made sure his children learned to speak his mother tongue. It had helped Zan through his classics studies at Harrow. Penny had copied out lessons from his textbooks but it was hard to study without encouragement. Miss Francis taught the girls only French, ready for finishing school in Switzerland, should it be needed . . .
    A bell rang summoning everyone to change and Penny reluctantly stuck the book on the shelf, making a vow to return. Up in their suite of rooms, everyone was fussing over Evadne’s hair and make-up. She really did look beautiful in her white satin ball dress, and radiant with something no powder puff could create. Effy was clearly in love. The wedding would be in spring and Mother was already planning the trousseau and wedding dress. Penny would miss her big sister when she moved into her own home in London, but there was always the chance of visiting her and escaping Mother’s regimented routines, a chance, too, to explore all London had to offer.
    ‘Why aren’t you dressed?’ Fabia glared at her muddy daughter, still in her stalking gear. ‘Who lent you those trousers? You really are the giddy limit, such a tomboy. You look as if you’ve been dragged through a hedge. How are we going to smarten you in time for the ball? Thank goodness you’re not out for another year,’ she sighed, pointing to the door. ‘We’ll have to lick you into shape or you’ll end up a farmer’s wife,’ Mother continued her lecture outside the bathroom door after Penny had reluctantly retreated there. ‘Tonight you’ll sit with the other young girls and watch and learn.’ Penny dunked her head under the water to drown out the strident voice. She didn’t care what Mother thought. Her parents didn’t know who Penny really was inside. It was Effy and Nanny who listened to her tears and troubles. Papa tried his best but was always busy or away. And what was wrong with being a farmer’s wife? When she married it would be for love, not to satisfy her mother’s social aspirations.
    The magnificent ballroom shimmered with candlelight and polished wood, a riot of coloured kilts and black velvet jackets, ladies in their long white dresses and tartan sashes, swords and banners and portraits on the walls. The pipers drowned the air with their tunes and the smoke from pipes and cigars wafted up the stairs where Penny stood taking in the scene as if it was a painting come to life.
    In the centre Effy and her fiancé were taking to the floor in honour of their formal announcement. On her finger flashed a cluster of diamonds and sapphires, matching the blue of her sparkling eyes. It was her night, her moment of glory, and Mother stood still in her lavender velvet dress, her hair plastered into swirling

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