her a grateful glance before making the introductions. “Lord Smallwood, Cleo, this is my mother.”
Lord Smallwood stepped forward and bowed over her hand. “How do you do, ma’am. You are most kind to welcome us, but it is unforgivable for us to have intruded at such a time.”
“Not at all,” Lady Phyllis assured him. “I’m delighted to meet Tris’s London friends. I hope you intended to spend some time here with us.”
“We wouldn’t dream of putting you out,” the embarrassed gentleman murmured.
“You aren’t putting us out at all,” Tris said earnestly. “In fact I insist that you spend some time here with us before you proceed on your travels. We both insist, don’t we, Mama?”
If Phyllis had any qualms, she hid them well. “Of course we insist. I shall have Livesey go down for your bags and establish you in adjoining guest bedrooms.”
“That is most generous of you, my lady,” Cleo said, bestowing her dazzling smile on her hostess. “We accept with pleasure, don’t we, Papa?”
The white-haired fellow gave a helpless shrug and surrendered his hat and greatcoat to the butler. Lady Phyllis, sensing his reluctance and shrewdly guessing that he’d been coerced into this escapade, felt an immediate rush of sympathy for him. “Please give no further thought to the manner of your arrival,” she assured him. “The only matter for concern is to see to your needs. Do you wish to rest after your journey? Or shall I arrange for you to have dinner? Or, if you’d prefer, you can join us for the rest of the musicale. There will be a light supper served afterwards.”
“The musicale, of course,” Cleo said at once, and then, in an afterthought, added, “if Papa agrees.”
The dignified gentleman shrugged his agreement. Lady Phyllis took his arm. “You will stay, I hope,” she said warmly as she opened the door. She urged him into the drawing room, where Miss Halloway, her head bent and her tightly curled forelock plastered against her forehead, which was wet from her exertions, was still plucking the strings of the harp with impressive enthusiasm. Tris and Cleo followed his mother in. Tris settled Cleo onto his chair, and Phyllis resumed her own. Two footmen appeared almost at once with chairs for the two men. All this was done so silently that Miss Halloway was not distracted. A few heads did turn to take another peep at the new arrivals, but the musicale continued without further interruption.
After two encores by Miss Halloway, and another sea chanty by Ronny Kenting, Sir William announced that the musicale was over. The guests rose and began to mill about. Lady Phyllis led the two late arrivals round the room and introduced them. Lord Smallwood responded to each greeting with monosyllables, but Cleo was soon completely at home, exchanging banter, laughing, and charming every gentleman in the room.
As the entire party drifted in pairs or groups to the morning room, where a buffet of light delicacies had been set up, the young lady from London was being observed with interest by several pairs of eyes. One of the observers was Julie Branscombe, who—after studying Cleo’s carriage, her curly coiffure and the easy way she spoke to everyone she met—found her to be just as Tris had described: graceful, spontaneous and self-assured. Good for you, Tris, she thought.
Lord Canfield was another observer. He not only closely examined the new arrival, but he watched Julie watching her. He concluded that Miss Branscombe was in trouble. Cleo Smallwood was a beautiful, glib sophisticate, talented at flirtation. He’d seen the type before. If she wanted Tris Enders for herself, she would ride over the shy Branscombe chit like a trained racehorse over a kitten. He felt quite sorry for the unobtrusively lovely Juliet.
But the keenest observer of the new arrival was Lady Branscombe. As soon as she could, she pulled Phyllis aside. “Is that young woman Tris’s London paramour?” she asked
Lord Smallwood stepped forward and bowed over her hand. “How do you do, ma’am. You are most kind to welcome us, but it is unforgivable for us to have intruded at such a time.”
“Not at all,” Lady Phyllis assured him. “I’m delighted to meet Tris’s London friends. I hope you intended to spend some time here with us.”
“We wouldn’t dream of putting you out,” the embarrassed gentleman murmured.
“You aren’t putting us out at all,” Tris said earnestly. “In fact I insist that you spend some time here with us before you proceed on your travels. We both insist, don’t we, Mama?”
If Phyllis had any qualms, she hid them well. “Of course we insist. I shall have Livesey go down for your bags and establish you in adjoining guest bedrooms.”
“That is most generous of you, my lady,” Cleo said, bestowing her dazzling smile on her hostess. “We accept with pleasure, don’t we, Papa?”
The white-haired fellow gave a helpless shrug and surrendered his hat and greatcoat to the butler. Lady Phyllis, sensing his reluctance and shrewdly guessing that he’d been coerced into this escapade, felt an immediate rush of sympathy for him. “Please give no further thought to the manner of your arrival,” she assured him. “The only matter for concern is to see to your needs. Do you wish to rest after your journey? Or shall I arrange for you to have dinner? Or, if you’d prefer, you can join us for the rest of the musicale. There will be a light supper served afterwards.”
“The musicale, of course,” Cleo said at once, and then, in an afterthought, added, “if Papa agrees.”
The dignified gentleman shrugged his agreement. Lady Phyllis took his arm. “You will stay, I hope,” she said warmly as she opened the door. She urged him into the drawing room, where Miss Halloway, her head bent and her tightly curled forelock plastered against her forehead, which was wet from her exertions, was still plucking the strings of the harp with impressive enthusiasm. Tris and Cleo followed his mother in. Tris settled Cleo onto his chair, and Phyllis resumed her own. Two footmen appeared almost at once with chairs for the two men. All this was done so silently that Miss Halloway was not distracted. A few heads did turn to take another peep at the new arrivals, but the musicale continued without further interruption.
After two encores by Miss Halloway, and another sea chanty by Ronny Kenting, Sir William announced that the musicale was over. The guests rose and began to mill about. Lady Phyllis led the two late arrivals round the room and introduced them. Lord Smallwood responded to each greeting with monosyllables, but Cleo was soon completely at home, exchanging banter, laughing, and charming every gentleman in the room.
As the entire party drifted in pairs or groups to the morning room, where a buffet of light delicacies had been set up, the young lady from London was being observed with interest by several pairs of eyes. One of the observers was Julie Branscombe, who—after studying Cleo’s carriage, her curly coiffure and the easy way she spoke to everyone she met—found her to be just as Tris had described: graceful, spontaneous and self-assured. Good for you, Tris, she thought.
Lord Canfield was another observer. He not only closely examined the new arrival, but he watched Julie watching her. He concluded that Miss Branscombe was in trouble. Cleo Smallwood was a beautiful, glib sophisticate, talented at flirtation. He’d seen the type before. If she wanted Tris Enders for herself, she would ride over the shy Branscombe chit like a trained racehorse over a kitten. He felt quite sorry for the unobtrusively lovely Juliet.
But the keenest observer of the new arrival was Lady Branscombe. As soon as she could, she pulled Phyllis aside. “Is that young woman Tris’s London paramour?” she asked
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