Ashworth Hall by Anne Perry Page A

experience. When they were well-born, wealthy, and he held a high position in government, it must be doubly so. Emily did not envy her. She could still recall her first meeting with George’s cousins and aunts, which was bad enough. His parents had been no longer alive. That would have been even more difficult.
    “How do you do, Miss Baring,” Ainsley said after a long moment’s hesitation. He spoke slowly, almost deliberately. “We are delighted to meet you. May I introduce my wife.” He touched Eudora lightly on the elbow, still keeping his eyes on Justine.
    “How do you do, Mrs. Greville,” Justine answered, clearing her throat of a little huskiness.
    Eudora smiled. She looked nervous as well. “How do you do, Miss Baring. It is delightful to meet you. I hope you will be able to stay long enough for us to become well acquainted.”
    “Thank you …” Justine accepted.
    “That rather depends upon Mrs. Radley, my dear,” Ainsley said quickly.
    Eudora blushed deep pink.
    Emily was angry with Ainsley for causing her embarrassment. It was out of character for the diplomat she had perceived.
    “I have already said Miss Baring is most welcome,” she cut in firmly. “She will be a charming addition to our party for as long as she wishes and is able to remain.” She smiled at Justine. “We are two ladies short as it is—in fact, three. You will be a great asset to us. Now, may I introduce you to the other guests?” And she named them one by one around the table. Fergal was courteous, if cool, and Kezia managed a smile. Padraig was charming. Lorcan inclined his head slightly and bade her welcome. Even Carson O’Day expressed pleasure in meeting her.
    Piers, of course, did not attempt to mask his feelings for her, and when she met his eyes her own emotions were as plain to see.
    He was already on his feet, and pulled out her chair for her, touching her softly on the shoulder as he assisted her to take her place, then returned to his own.
    Everyone, except perhaps Kezia, seemed to make an extra effort to hide their antipathies. Perhaps it was self-protection against someone who appeared to have no idea who they were or why they should be here, other than for the most usual of social reasons, as in any other country house party over a long weekend. If she had noticed an unusual number of Irish names, she gave no sign of it.
    “How did you meet?” Emily asked politely.
    “Quite by accident,” Piers replied, obviously happy to discuss anything to do with Justine. He could not keep from glancing at her, and when he did she colored very faintly and lowered her eyes. Emily had the distinct impression it was not shyness of him, or any ordinary self-consciousness, but a shyness of her prospective parents-in-law, sitting only two or three places away. Such modesty was what was expected, and she was going to do exactly what any young woman would, to the least thing.
    Emily would have done the same.
    Everyone appeared to be listening.
    “I was leaving the theater with a group of friends,” Piers continued enthusiastically. “I don’t even remember what I saw, something by Pinero, I think, but it went right out of my head the moment I met Justine. She was leaving also, with one of my professors—a brilliant man, lecturer in diseases of the heart in particular, and of the circulation. It was quite appropriate that I should speak with him, and I had to seize the chance to be introduced to Justine.”
    He smiled a little self-mockingly. “I knew she could not be his wife. He is a fellow of the college. I was afraid she might be a niece and he would not approve of a mere student seeking an acquaintance with her.”
    Justine glanced up at Ainsley, who was looking at her. He looked down again immediately. She seemed uncomfortable.
    “And was she?” Eudora enquired.
    “No,” Piers said with relief. “She was merely a friend. He said she was the daughter of an old student of his with whom he had kept in touch, until he