with amusement, Francis,” she said crossly.
“Quite so, my love,” he agreed, eliciting a short bark of inelegant laughter from his spouse.
“And I daresay Miss Grainger will be more comfortable with Jennifer and Samantha and Stephanie there as well as me,” Cora said. “She is familiar with them and they with her. But she
is
rather shy and may find the combination of you and Papa together rather formidable, Edgar.”
“Nonsense,” her brother said.
“I did, Edgar,” Lord Francis said. “When I dashed down to Mobley that time to ask if I might pay my addresses to Cora, I took one look at your father and one look at you and had vivid mental images of my bones all mashed to powder. You had me shaking in my Hessians. You might have noticed the tassels swaying if you had glanced down.”
“And what gives you the idea,” Edgar asked his sister, “that Miss Grainger will be at Mobley for Christmas? Have I missed something? Have you
invited
her?” He had a horrid suspicion for one moment that perhaps she had and had forced his hand quite irretrievably.
“Of course I have not,” she said. “I would never do such a thing. That is for you to do, Edgar. But you will do it, will you not? She is your favorite and eligible inevery way. I love her quite like a sister already. And you did promise Papa.”
“And it is Edgar’s life, my love,” Lord Francis said, getting to his feet. “We had better go up and rescue Nurse from our offspring. They are doubtless chafing at the bit and impatiently awaiting their daily energy-letting in the park. Is it Andrew’s turn to ride on my shoulders or Paul’s?”
“Annabelle’s,” she said as they left the room.
But Cora came very close that very evening to doing what she had said she would never do. They were at a party in which she made up a group with the Graingers; Edgar; Stephanie, Duchess of Bridgwater; and the Marquess of Carew. The duchess had commented on the fact that the shops on Oxford Street and Bond Street were filled with Christmas wares already despite the fact that December had not even arrived. The marquess had added that he and his wife had been shopping for gifts that very day in the hope of avoiding any last-minute panic. Cora mentioned Mobley and hoped there would be some snow for Christmas. All their children, she declared—if she could persuade her friends to come—would be ecstatic if they could skate and ride the sleighs and engage in snowball fights.
“There are skates of all sizes,” she said, “and the sleighs are large enough for adults as well as children. Do you like snow, Miss Grainger?”
Edgar felt a twinge of alarm and looked pointedly at his sister. But she was too well launched on enthusiasm to notice.
“Good,” Cora said when the girl had replied that indeed she did. “Then you will have a marvelous time.” She reacted quite in character when she realized that she had opened her mouth and stuffed her rather large slipper inside, Edgar noticed, wishing rather uncharitably that she might choke on it. She blushed and talked andlaughed. “That is, if it snows. If it snows where you happen to be spending Christmas, that is. That is, if … Oh dear. Hartley, do tell me what I am trying to say.”
“You are hoping there will be snow to make Christmas a more festive occasion, Cora,” the Marquess of Carew said kindly. “And that it will fall all over England for everyone’s delight.”
“Yes,” she said. “Thank you. That is exactly what I meant. How warm it is in here.” She opened her fan and plied it vigorously before her face.
Sir Webster and Lady Grainger, Edgar saw, were looking very smug indeed.
A ND THEN AT the very end of November, when the noose seemed to have settled quite firmly about his neck, he discovered the existence of the ineligible lover—the one Lady Stapleton had mentioned.
Edgar was walking along Oxford Street, huddled inside his heavy greatcoat, avoiding the puddles left by the rain that
“Quite so, my love,” he agreed, eliciting a short bark of inelegant laughter from his spouse.
“And I daresay Miss Grainger will be more comfortable with Jennifer and Samantha and Stephanie there as well as me,” Cora said. “She is familiar with them and they with her. But she
is
rather shy and may find the combination of you and Papa together rather formidable, Edgar.”
“Nonsense,” her brother said.
“I did, Edgar,” Lord Francis said. “When I dashed down to Mobley that time to ask if I might pay my addresses to Cora, I took one look at your father and one look at you and had vivid mental images of my bones all mashed to powder. You had me shaking in my Hessians. You might have noticed the tassels swaying if you had glanced down.”
“And what gives you the idea,” Edgar asked his sister, “that Miss Grainger will be at Mobley for Christmas? Have I missed something? Have you
invited
her?” He had a horrid suspicion for one moment that perhaps she had and had forced his hand quite irretrievably.
“Of course I have not,” she said. “I would never do such a thing. That is for you to do, Edgar. But you will do it, will you not? She is your favorite and eligible inevery way. I love her quite like a sister already. And you did promise Papa.”
“And it is Edgar’s life, my love,” Lord Francis said, getting to his feet. “We had better go up and rescue Nurse from our offspring. They are doubtless chafing at the bit and impatiently awaiting their daily energy-letting in the park. Is it Andrew’s turn to ride on my shoulders or Paul’s?”
“Annabelle’s,” she said as they left the room.
But Cora came very close that very evening to doing what she had said she would never do. They were at a party in which she made up a group with the Graingers; Edgar; Stephanie, Duchess of Bridgwater; and the Marquess of Carew. The duchess had commented on the fact that the shops on Oxford Street and Bond Street were filled with Christmas wares already despite the fact that December had not even arrived. The marquess had added that he and his wife had been shopping for gifts that very day in the hope of avoiding any last-minute panic. Cora mentioned Mobley and hoped there would be some snow for Christmas. All their children, she declared—if she could persuade her friends to come—would be ecstatic if they could skate and ride the sleighs and engage in snowball fights.
“There are skates of all sizes,” she said, “and the sleighs are large enough for adults as well as children. Do you like snow, Miss Grainger?”
Edgar felt a twinge of alarm and looked pointedly at his sister. But she was too well launched on enthusiasm to notice.
“Good,” Cora said when the girl had replied that indeed she did. “Then you will have a marvelous time.” She reacted quite in character when she realized that she had opened her mouth and stuffed her rather large slipper inside, Edgar noticed, wishing rather uncharitably that she might choke on it. She blushed and talked andlaughed. “That is, if it snows. If it snows where you happen to be spending Christmas, that is. That is, if … Oh dear. Hartley, do tell me what I am trying to say.”
“You are hoping there will be snow to make Christmas a more festive occasion, Cora,” the Marquess of Carew said kindly. “And that it will fall all over England for everyone’s delight.”
“Yes,” she said. “Thank you. That is exactly what I meant. How warm it is in here.” She opened her fan and plied it vigorously before her face.
Sir Webster and Lady Grainger, Edgar saw, were looking very smug indeed.
A ND THEN AT the very end of November, when the noose seemed to have settled quite firmly about his neck, he discovered the existence of the ineligible lover—the one Lady Stapleton had mentioned.
Edgar was walking along Oxford Street, huddled inside his heavy greatcoat, avoiding the puddles left by the rain that
Similar Books
