that…’ She swooped on abandbox at the back of the wardrobe, ‘And here is the silver circlet which is intended to match.’ She placed it on Annabella’s honey-coloured curls and stood back to admire. ‘Oh, my dear, you will look divine!’ Then, as Annabella remained silent, she said anxiously, ‘What is the matter? Do you not care for it?’
Annabella shook her head slowly, a lump in her throat. ‘It is the most beautiful thing…I cannot believe that I am really going to wear it!’
Caroline smiled, reassured, and Ellie, her mouth full of pins, instructed Annabella to turn around slowly so that she could see the rest of the fit. A tweak here and a tuck there, and the maid nodded her satisfaction.
‘You will be the belle of the ball, my dear,’ Caroline predicted, ‘and I’ll warrant Sir William will think so too!’
Annabella smiled, still dazzled by the subtle, shifting patterns of silver and gold. Her eyes were like stars as she turned before the mirror. ‘Oh, do you really think so, ma’am?’ She sounded quite wistful and very young. To Caroline she looked suddenly so like her sister that she too felt a lump in her throat.
‘If Sir William tells you of something—’ she began, stopped then started again. ‘You must never think that Sir William is interested in you other than for yourself, my dear.’
Annabella’s wide, uncomprehending green eyes turned on her in puzzlement.
‘I do so hope that you are right in thinking he likes me, ma’am.’
Caroline gave up. It was not her story to tell, anyway, and she had already told Will Weston in themost forcible tones possible that the sooner he told Annabella the truth, the better. Will had argued that he had wanted the chance for them to get to know each other properly first, before this matter interfered to muddy the waters. Caroline thought he was a fool, but knew she could not sway him. She sighed. There was such a clear, innocent light in Annabella’s eyes as she stood, rapt in wonder at her own appearance, that Caroline hoped she would never suffer disillusionment. Like Will Weston before her, she contemplated the curious mix of characteristics that was Annabella St Auby. Sometimes so collected, so sophisticated, and at others so young and lacking in confidence. And she was, after all, only twenty-one, with no one to show her how to go on or help her form sound judgement. Caroline thought it was extraordinary that she had turned out as well as she had.
When Annabella came down the stair at Mundell Hall on the night of the ball, she was delighted to see that William Weston, who was waiting with Marcus Kilgaren, actually stopped talking when he saw her. There was uncomplicated admiration blazing in his blue eyes and a more complex, and far more exciting, emotion which set Annabella’s pulse racing. As Weston moved forward to take her hand, Marcus Kilgaren crossed to Caroline’s side.
‘You seem to have played the fairy godmother rather successfully, my love,’ he murmured to his wife, with a grin. ‘Little Mrs St Auby looks quite ravishing tonight. Certainly, Will looks as though he would like to ravish her!’
Caroline dug him reprovingly in the ribs. ‘Marcus!She’s a sweet girl, and she deserves to enjoy herself. But—’ a tiny frown marred her brow ‘—Will still hasn’t told her about Larkswood! I worry that if she finds out some other way, it may all go wrong…’
Marcus’s shrewd blue eyes scanned her face. ‘You really have taken her under your wing, haven’t you, Caro? But there’s nothing we can do. Will must sort it out for himself.’
Caroline looked across to where the two heads were bent close together as Sir William scrawled his initials on Annabella’s dance card. She sighed. ‘I know…But Annabella is only twenty-one and I know she has been unfortunate before, even though she has not confided the whole to me. It would be most unlucky if something was to spoil her current happiness.’
Nothing was
Annabella shook her head slowly, a lump in her throat. ‘It is the most beautiful thing…I cannot believe that I am really going to wear it!’
Caroline smiled, reassured, and Ellie, her mouth full of pins, instructed Annabella to turn around slowly so that she could see the rest of the fit. A tweak here and a tuck there, and the maid nodded her satisfaction.
‘You will be the belle of the ball, my dear,’ Caroline predicted, ‘and I’ll warrant Sir William will think so too!’
Annabella smiled, still dazzled by the subtle, shifting patterns of silver and gold. Her eyes were like stars as she turned before the mirror. ‘Oh, do you really think so, ma’am?’ She sounded quite wistful and very young. To Caroline she looked suddenly so like her sister that she too felt a lump in her throat.
‘If Sir William tells you of something—’ she began, stopped then started again. ‘You must never think that Sir William is interested in you other than for yourself, my dear.’
Annabella’s wide, uncomprehending green eyes turned on her in puzzlement.
‘I do so hope that you are right in thinking he likes me, ma’am.’
Caroline gave up. It was not her story to tell, anyway, and she had already told Will Weston in themost forcible tones possible that the sooner he told Annabella the truth, the better. Will had argued that he had wanted the chance for them to get to know each other properly first, before this matter interfered to muddy the waters. Caroline thought he was a fool, but knew she could not sway him. She sighed. There was such a clear, innocent light in Annabella’s eyes as she stood, rapt in wonder at her own appearance, that Caroline hoped she would never suffer disillusionment. Like Will Weston before her, she contemplated the curious mix of characteristics that was Annabella St Auby. Sometimes so collected, so sophisticated, and at others so young and lacking in confidence. And she was, after all, only twenty-one, with no one to show her how to go on or help her form sound judgement. Caroline thought it was extraordinary that she had turned out as well as she had.
When Annabella came down the stair at Mundell Hall on the night of the ball, she was delighted to see that William Weston, who was waiting with Marcus Kilgaren, actually stopped talking when he saw her. There was uncomplicated admiration blazing in his blue eyes and a more complex, and far more exciting, emotion which set Annabella’s pulse racing. As Weston moved forward to take her hand, Marcus Kilgaren crossed to Caroline’s side.
‘You seem to have played the fairy godmother rather successfully, my love,’ he murmured to his wife, with a grin. ‘Little Mrs St Auby looks quite ravishing tonight. Certainly, Will looks as though he would like to ravish her!’
Caroline dug him reprovingly in the ribs. ‘Marcus!She’s a sweet girl, and she deserves to enjoy herself. But—’ a tiny frown marred her brow ‘—Will still hasn’t told her about Larkswood! I worry that if she finds out some other way, it may all go wrong…’
Marcus’s shrewd blue eyes scanned her face. ‘You really have taken her under your wing, haven’t you, Caro? But there’s nothing we can do. Will must sort it out for himself.’
Caroline looked across to where the two heads were bent close together as Sir William scrawled his initials on Annabella’s dance card. She sighed. ‘I know…But Annabella is only twenty-one and I know she has been unfortunate before, even though she has not confided the whole to me. It would be most unlucky if something was to spoil her current happiness.’
Nothing was
Similar Books
