course, there was not a man in the room she could tolerate being near other than her brother, Thomas, and Brandon. But she would have to make do.
She noticed that Anne had placed Brandon to her right, the side she must perceive as her best profile, once again. She was sure the other guests noticed as well.
“Tell me, Lady Rutherford, how are you holding up after the demise of his lordship?”
With regret and dismay she turned her attention to Dimsford. He could not be thinking of making a play for her once again, could he? She was sure she had been most definitive on that first evening.
She assumed the polite attitude required before speaking. “He is a great loss to me. I am still filled with much grief.”
The lord looked passed her toward Brandon then sneered in a lecherous manner. “I am most assured that you are. But if I can be of any assistance easing your sorrow.”
She reached for her pendant. The man had the audacity to wink at her.
“Please feel free to call upon me," the lord continued. "It would be my most humble wish to help you forget your loss, if only temporarily.”
If the wink was not rude enough, the debauched man was looking down the décolletage of her gown. She felt the blood rush to her face, anger caught in her throat. She must not lose control. Dimsford was not worth it.
With a cold smile she retorted, “I thank you, my lord, but I doubt you would have any effect whatsoever upon my grief. I am sure your best interests lay elsewhere.”
Having given him the best cut direct she could manage under the circumstances, she turned her attention in Brandon’s direction.
“Really, my lord,” Anne crooned as her right hand traced the muscles of Brandon’s left hand leaning against the table. “I have not seen you in two whole days.” She stuck out a pouty lower lip. “Where have you been and why have you not come to my room? The door remains unlocked.”
Even with Brandon turned away from her, Priscilla could see the red flush climb up the back of his neck. Without seeing his face she could not tell if it was embarrassment or anger that made him blush.
If she had to guess, though, she would guess anger.
“I have been occupied, Lady Anne. You know my father is dying. I have no interest in participating in the house party goings-on under the circumstances.”
His voice was level but the tension beneath it was palpable.
“I know you seek solace from my sister-in-law, but I have lost both of my parents within the last two years. I am sure I could ease your concerns with what I have learned.”
Knowing Anne the way she did, Priscilla had to bite her tongue to keep from commenting on Anne’s way of showing grief.
Thomas had written to her. The allusions to London shopping sprees and a new lover had been plain in the letter. Anne had assuaged her sorrow by wallowing in even more self-indulgence.
Her brother and Brandon were right about Anne’s tenacity. She was like a bitch in heat and would not be swayed from her purpose until it was met.
If Priscilla failed to take action with Brandon soon, Anne might have him herself. Or, Anne may so alienate him, he could leave. In either case, she might lose any chance with him.
What other possibility might arise?
None, she expected.
Thomas rose at the head of the table. “My friends, I am most delighted to announce that Lady Sally Dimsford has offered to entertain us for a little while by playing the pianoforte. If we all retire to the music room, our dessert will be served there.”
Anne made a rude sound before muttering, “I hope she plays better than she-”
But Brandon stood and turned away from Anne and toward her, so Priscilla did not hear the remainder of the complaint.
“I will escort you, Lady Rutherford.”
With some relief, Priscilla, on Brandon’s arm, led the meandering crowd into the music room. The French doors had been thrown wide. The warm breeze off the veranda gave Priscilla a thought.
“Brandon, I find it so
She noticed that Anne had placed Brandon to her right, the side she must perceive as her best profile, once again. She was sure the other guests noticed as well.
“Tell me, Lady Rutherford, how are you holding up after the demise of his lordship?”
With regret and dismay she turned her attention to Dimsford. He could not be thinking of making a play for her once again, could he? She was sure she had been most definitive on that first evening.
She assumed the polite attitude required before speaking. “He is a great loss to me. I am still filled with much grief.”
The lord looked passed her toward Brandon then sneered in a lecherous manner. “I am most assured that you are. But if I can be of any assistance easing your sorrow.”
She reached for her pendant. The man had the audacity to wink at her.
“Please feel free to call upon me," the lord continued. "It would be my most humble wish to help you forget your loss, if only temporarily.”
If the wink was not rude enough, the debauched man was looking down the décolletage of her gown. She felt the blood rush to her face, anger caught in her throat. She must not lose control. Dimsford was not worth it.
With a cold smile she retorted, “I thank you, my lord, but I doubt you would have any effect whatsoever upon my grief. I am sure your best interests lay elsewhere.”
Having given him the best cut direct she could manage under the circumstances, she turned her attention in Brandon’s direction.
“Really, my lord,” Anne crooned as her right hand traced the muscles of Brandon’s left hand leaning against the table. “I have not seen you in two whole days.” She stuck out a pouty lower lip. “Where have you been and why have you not come to my room? The door remains unlocked.”
Even with Brandon turned away from her, Priscilla could see the red flush climb up the back of his neck. Without seeing his face she could not tell if it was embarrassment or anger that made him blush.
If she had to guess, though, she would guess anger.
“I have been occupied, Lady Anne. You know my father is dying. I have no interest in participating in the house party goings-on under the circumstances.”
His voice was level but the tension beneath it was palpable.
“I know you seek solace from my sister-in-law, but I have lost both of my parents within the last two years. I am sure I could ease your concerns with what I have learned.”
Knowing Anne the way she did, Priscilla had to bite her tongue to keep from commenting on Anne’s way of showing grief.
Thomas had written to her. The allusions to London shopping sprees and a new lover had been plain in the letter. Anne had assuaged her sorrow by wallowing in even more self-indulgence.
Her brother and Brandon were right about Anne’s tenacity. She was like a bitch in heat and would not be swayed from her purpose until it was met.
If Priscilla failed to take action with Brandon soon, Anne might have him herself. Or, Anne may so alienate him, he could leave. In either case, she might lose any chance with him.
What other possibility might arise?
None, she expected.
Thomas rose at the head of the table. “My friends, I am most delighted to announce that Lady Sally Dimsford has offered to entertain us for a little while by playing the pianoforte. If we all retire to the music room, our dessert will be served there.”
Anne made a rude sound before muttering, “I hope she plays better than she-”
But Brandon stood and turned away from Anne and toward her, so Priscilla did not hear the remainder of the complaint.
“I will escort you, Lady Rutherford.”
With some relief, Priscilla, on Brandon’s arm, led the meandering crowd into the music room. The French doors had been thrown wide. The warm breeze off the veranda gave Priscilla a thought.
“Brandon, I find it so
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