Authors: Unknown
With deliberate forbearance, she forced her affront aside, far too
happy to be among close family once again.
Striving to remain pleasant, she turned to Adrian’s younger
brother. “Lord Christopher.”
A younger, sparer version of his brother, twenty-three-year-old
Kit Winter was darkly handsome. His looks would have been dangerously appealing
if not for the imp that winked back at her out of his irrepressible green-gold
eyes.
“Lady Jeannette,” he said on a nod.
To a casual observer the greeting would have sounded fine, but she
could detect the mocking undertone beneath.
Whelp,
she thought,
remembering his overbearing treatment of her at last spring’s ball, a slight
for which she had still not entirely forgiven him.
She bit down the remark that rose to her lips and turned instead
to acknowledge the last occupant of the room, a girl so ordinary and shy as to
be nearly invisible.
Eliza Hammond, her sister’s longtime friend. She was dressed, as
usual, in an appallingly unattractive gown. Today’s shade—mud brown—was a
ghastly foil for her mousey brown hair, gray eyes and pale, nearly colorless
white skin.
“Miss Hammond. How do you do?”
Eliza cast a quick, almost startled glance upward and bobbed her
head. “F-fine, Lady Jeannette. Thank you for inquiring. And yourself?”
“I am tolerably well. Even better, I must say, now that all of you
are here.”
Jeannette paused, waiting to see if the other girl would offer
further comment. But she did not, Eliza’s eyes cast downward to the fingers she
had linked together in her lap.
Deciding it easiest to simply move on rather than attempt to draw
Miss Hammond out any further, Jeannette turned her attention back to her
sister. “So, you haven’t told me. What are you doing here? Why have you come?
Especially in your delicate condition.”
The small frown on Violet’s face eased as she gazed away from her
friend. She opened her mouth to speak, but Adrian stepped in first.
“Yes, her condition is delicate,” he scolded in a soft tone. “The
exact reason I tried to dissuade her from making this long journey.”
“It wasn’t that long, particularly not since we came on your
yacht,” Violet said. “An extremely comfortable craft that is rather like being
inside a floating country house.”
“Floating country house indeed,” he said, lips twisting with wry
humor. “And what of the coach rides?”
“Your coaches are exceptionally well sprung, daring the roads to
do their worst. Besides, I wasn’t about to let you leave me behind, nor Kit and
Eliza either, both of whom were longing for an interesting change of scenery.
It was my last chance to go anywhere since I’ll barely be able to waddle by
this time next month, forced to remain inside our estate with your mother until
the babies arrive.”
“I thought you liked my mother.”
“I’ve come to love your mother, you know that. But before my
confinement begins, I wanted one last adventure.”
“Ireland,” Jeannette declared in a lowering tone, “is no
adventure.”
“Oh, but it is,” Violet said, turning again toward Jeannette. “The
drive here from Waterford was lovely, so green and verdant despite the season.
But then, I have always enjoyed the country. Just as it has always been the
city for you, which is precisely the reason we’ve come.”
“What do you mean?”
Violet grinned, barely contained excitement sparkling in her gaze.
“Only ten days past, I had a visit from Mama and Papa. The three of us had a
long talk, and after a while I was able to convince them how sorry you are for
the embarrassment you caused—”
A loud, derisive snort rang out from Kit’s direction.
Violet shot him a quelling look to which he shrugged, clearly
unrepentant. “As I was saying, the embarrassment and shame we
both
caused others with our imprudent, hurtful deception. Although I cannot pretend
to be entirely repentant, considering the ultimate outcome.”
She took Adrian’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, exchanging a
long, tender look with him that spoke volumes.
Violet resumed her story. “I know I hadn’t your permission, but I
showed our parents a few of your letters to me to let them see what a quiet
life you are leading now and how contrite you have become. Without too much
more argument, I managed to persuade them to relent.”
Jeannette clasped her hands between her breasts in sudden, hopeful
anticipation. “Yes? And?”
“And I have come—we have come—bearing the most wonderful news. You
have been forgiven and may return home. We are here to take you back to
England!”
A bolt of delight surged through Jeannette, setting her entire
frame atingle. Clapping her hands, she squealed and stamped her feet in a rapid
dance against the carpeted floor, uncaring whether or not the reaction appeared
ladylike.
Racing for her twin, she enveloped Violet in a rapturous hug,
squeezing her tight despite her sister’s bulk. “You mean I’m reprieved? No more
prison? No more exile? No more Ireland?”
“Well,” Violet said, “I would never call this lovely house a
prison, but yes, you are free.”
She released Violet. “Hooray, hooray and huzzah. Oh, you are the
dearest, kindest, most wonderful sister anyone could have. I take back every
cross word I’ve ever said about you and promise never to utter another to you
again.”
Violet laughed. “I shall hold you to that next time I turn up in
your black books.”
Jeannette waved a hand. “For this, you never shall again.” She did
another improvised jig. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Home,
she sang to herself.
I am going home.
Back
to England, to civilization, where everything would once again be just as it
ought. Where she would see her friends again, resume her place as a trendsetter
among the young set. Oh, the parties and soirees and fêtes she would attend. A
round of country visits this winter perhaps, then off to London for the Season
in the spring. The very idea made quivers of glee race up and down her spine.
She could scarcely wait, already envisioning how best to accomplish what was
certain to be her triumphant return to Society.
“Now that’s settled,” Kit said, “do you suppose someone could ring
for tea? I, for one, am famished.”
“Nuncheon is due to be served in a little over an hour.” Still
floating aloft on a cloud of happiness, Jeannette launched into another series
of questions for her sister. “So what exactly did Mama say? Does she seem eager
to have me home again? And what of London? Did she mention a trip to London?”
Violet smiled and with good grace began to answer.
“But I am hungry now,” Kit complained after a minute.
Jeannette tossed him a glance. “Then you’ll enjoy the meal that
much more. Tea now will only spoil your appetite.”
“It won’t spoil
my
appetite. The ham and eggs I ate this
morning wore away hours ago. Not to worry, I shall be fully able to do justice
to two meals.”
Violet joined the discussion. “Actually, I could do with a light
snack before nuncheon as well.” She laid a hand over her belly. “I seem to share
Kit’s affliction these days and am forever hungry. The babies give me such
cravings. I’ve quite driven our chef at Winterlea mad with all my requests.
Lately, I’ve developed an alarming penchant for fresh fig pudding and pickled
beets.”
“Eaten together, if you can believe,” Kit interjected before
making a humorously disgusted face.
“They are delicious,” Violet defended. “Oh, and I cannot get
enough steamed artichokes and lemons and bananas too. All of which are
frightfully expensive and very difficult to obtain this time of year. Poor
François. And poor, dearest Adrian, whom I awaken at all hours of the night.”
“I don’t mind, my dear,” Adrian soothed. “The interrupted sleep or
the increased appetite.”
“What about the added pounds?” Violet questioned.
“Just more of you to love, sweetheart. I believe I once told you a
bit of weight would not bother me in the least.” Adrian slipped an arm around
Violet’s back, drawing her close against his side.
They gazed deeply into each other’s eyes.
For an alarming instant, Jeannette feared Violet and Adrian were
about to fall into a passionate embrace and start kissing right there in front
of everyone. At the last second, the couple came to their senses and
reluctantly broke apart.
Adrian cleared his throat. “If we are to take tea, then you ought
to be seated. Too much standing will only make your ankles swell.”
“You never cared about your sister Sylvia’s swollen ankles,”
Violet said.
“That’s because I am not married to Sylvia. Besides, her ankles
are not nearly so lovely as yours.”
A solicitous hand tucked beneath her elbow, Adrian helped Violet
return to the sofa.
Kit crossed his arms, an expression of satisfaction on his face.
“So? Shall you ring or shall I?”
“Already done, my lord,” Eliza Hammond said in a soft, faintly
breathless voice. “While you were conversing, I took the liberty.” She glanced
quickly at Jeannette. “I hope you do not mind, my lady?”
Jeannette blinked in surprise at the other girl, whom, to be quite
honest, she’d forgotten was even in the room. She certainly hadn’t noticed
Eliza move from her chair and cross to the far side of the room. Then again,
she didn’t think anyone else had noticed either. Considering how timid the
little thing was, Eliza’s independent actions seemed rather amazing.
“No, not at all.”
Kit turned a wide, beguiling smile upon her sister’s friend. “My
thanks as well, Miss Hammond, for your gracious generosity.” He placed a
dramatic hand across his chest, made her an elegant half bow. “If not for your
quick-thinking actions, I would no doubt have soon grown faint from starvation.
You have my undying and eternal gratitude.”
Hot color washed into Eliza’s cheeks, causing her skin to glow, a
tremulous smile limning her lips. In that moment, she actually looked pretty,
her eyes alight in a way Jeannette had never seen before.
“You are very welcome, my lord,” Eliza replied on a near whisper.
But Kit’s attention had already moved away, focused on the conversation
his brother and Violet were having.
Eliza’s gaze lowered, the attractive color fading from her cheeks,
as if they had been washed with snow.
So that’s the way the wind blew, was it? Jeannette mused. Poor
Miss Hammond. In love with a young man, who was nearly oblivious to her
existence. Who was used to drawing the gaze of all the most beautiful,
accomplished, eligible young ladies of the Ton. A man who would likely never
see ordinary Eliza Hammond as anything but the shy, dependable, bookish friend
of his sister-in-law.
An unexpected curl of sympathy settled inside Jeannette and for
the first time she felt honest sorrow for the girl.
Ah, love, how cruel an affliction.
A knock came at the door, one of the parlor maids entering the
room. The girl curtseyed and bobbed her head, eyes going wide at the sight of
such elegant company. Her eyes grew wider as they landed upon Violet, the
maid’s lips parting as she looked between Jeannette and her twin. Then she
fixed her sights on Jeannette. “Is there something you’d be needing, my lady?”
“Yes. Please ask Cook to send up the tea tray as soon as may be.
Pray also inform the housekeeper that extra rooms will be required. My sister
and her husband have arrived, along with his brother and my sister’s friend.
They shall need accommodations.”
“Sure and it please you, your ladyship, but what’s to do? Nearly
all the rooms have been taken for the other guests.”
“More shall simply have to be found. I am sure Mrs. Ivory will
know how to remedy the situation. The tea, please, Janey, if you would.”
The maid bobbed again and hurried from the room.
“What’s this about guests?” Violet inquired.
Jeannette turned. “Our cousins are hosting an entertainment this
evening. A ball. In all the excitement, it very nearly slipped my mind.”
“Our cousins hosting a ball, hmm? And here I thought you were
withering away from loneliness and boredom in the so-called wilderness.”
“I was. I am,” Jeannette defended. “Tonight will be the first bit
of Society I have enjoyed since my arrival.”
“Leave it to you, Jeannette,” Adrian said, “to put together a
party at someone else’s house while you are supposedly in exile.”
“I
am
in exile and it’s been dreadful.”
A small noise came from the doorway. Jeannette heard it, turned
her head to find Cousin Wilda hovering there. She saw the look of hurt on the
older woman’s face and cringed.
Oh, dear.
“Cousin,” Jeannette said, jumping in to cover the awkward moment.
“Only look who has arrived. Come in, pray, and allow me to make them known to
you.” Rushing forward, she drew Wilda’s arm through her own, lowering her voice
to a murmur. “And please forgive my thoughtless comment of a moment ago. You
surely know I wasn’t referring to you or Cousin Cuthbert. You’re both a
delight, and I have so enjoyed my time here with the two of you.”
“But we are not young and exciting, are we?”
Jeannette stared, not knowing how to reply without worsening
matters.
Wilda unbent and patted her hand. “I understand, dear. Don’t
trouble yourself over it. Now, please make me known to your friends, if you
would.”
“Of course, and they are not friends, they are family.”
Relieved to have been so easily forgiven, she led Wilda forward
and began the introductions. The others offered a warm round of greetings,
quickly setting the older woman at her ease.
“Pardon me for not being here earlier to welcome you,” Wilda said,
fingers plucking at the folds of her skirts. “We weren’t expecting anyone to
arrive for a few hours more.”
“Do not worry yourself, madam,” Adrian said. “The fault is
entirely ours for not giving you better notice of our arrival. Come now, as
Jeannette said, we are all family. There is no need to stand upon strict formality.”