looked back at Millicent to see her cousin smiling at her with treacle sweetness. "Royce? Oh, indeed we do. He has been over every day the past week," she said easily. Not for a moment would she admit the objects of his attention have been her two nephews. "But he was uncertain as to whether he would join us. It seems he is expecting a guest today and did not wish to make commitments for his friend without consulting him first. It may be that we do not see him at all until his guest has left," Jane offered guilelessly, smiling graciously back at her cousin.
"We keep country hours here at Penwick Park, so dinner is at six. I hope that will not discommode you in any way? And do not worry for the rest of your party. I shall send a man out after the Willoughbys to see if he may be of assistance." She paused to give Mrs. Phibbs a few quiet instructions, then turned to smile broadly at their guests. It was that cold, social smile that failed to reach and warm her eyes. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some last details to go over with Cook."
Lady Elsbeth watched Jane walk slowly away, realizing her niece would rather be running. She shook her head. "We shall send your servants up as soon as the carriages are unloaded. Mrs. Phibbs has directed that all irons be warmed so that your clothing can be pressed."
"Damned thoughtful of you. Know my stocks will need a going over. Always do after being packed away, unless I’ve a mind to be slovenly, which I tell you now I can’t abide. Never could, never would." Mr. Burry released Millicent’s arm and rolled back on his heels.
"Of course you can’t, Burry dear," soothed Lady Serena as they followed Mrs. Phibbs up the stairs.
Lady Elsbeth smiled stiffly, her head bobbing mechanically as she watched them ascend the stairs. When they’d attained the first floor landing she relaxed and sighed deeply before turning to go in search of Jane. She’d best remind her niece to keep her tongue between her teeth. It didn’t do to go borrowing trouble. Particularly any that Serena could contrive.
Lord and Lady Willoughby, accompanied by Sir Garth Helmsdon, arrived some thirty minutes later. Lord Willoughby was a surprisingly ugly brute of a man who spoke with a dialect that reminded Jane of her Uncle Edward and his military cronies. Lady Willoughby was a small, wiry woman who scarcely spoke above a rasping whisper, due, her spouse informed them, to a nearly fatal illness she’d suffered many years before. In contrast to her ugly husband, she was a faded beauty for whom time’s touch had been gentle.
They all appeared tired, dusty, and more than a little disturbed by Serena’s cavalier manner of leaving them to their misfortune. With scarcely a greeting for their hostesses, the Willoughbys retired upstairs. Sir Helmsdon looked predisposed to talk, maneuvering Jane into a corner of the hall for just that purpose. Luckily for Jane her nephews chose that moment to return to the house. They’d seen Sir Helmsdon’s long-tailed gray out in the yard and declared it a beautiful animal. The boys rushed over to the horse’s owner, pummeling him with questions regarding the animal. Jane smiled and murmured her excuses, then slipped out under his arm. Her position was immediately supplanted by Edward, who wanted to know what weight he rode and how long the horse could carry him. Their enthusiastic questions carried them in Sir Helmsdon’s wake as he followed Jeremy to his assigned room.
Elsbeth came to stand beside Jane as they watched the Willoughbys and Sir Helmsdon climb the stairs.
"It would appear Serena’s sterling character has already begun to tarnish," she murmured in Jane’s ear.
"Yes, but she obviously could not hold the Willoughby’s of much account. After all, they do not have an unmarried, wealthy son for Millicent."
"Then why their company?"
"I don’t know; but likely there is a reason—at least one that makes sense to Aunt Serena’s brand of logic. Helmsdon concerns me
"We keep country hours here at Penwick Park, so dinner is at six. I hope that will not discommode you in any way? And do not worry for the rest of your party. I shall send a man out after the Willoughbys to see if he may be of assistance." She paused to give Mrs. Phibbs a few quiet instructions, then turned to smile broadly at their guests. It was that cold, social smile that failed to reach and warm her eyes. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some last details to go over with Cook."
Lady Elsbeth watched Jane walk slowly away, realizing her niece would rather be running. She shook her head. "We shall send your servants up as soon as the carriages are unloaded. Mrs. Phibbs has directed that all irons be warmed so that your clothing can be pressed."
"Damned thoughtful of you. Know my stocks will need a going over. Always do after being packed away, unless I’ve a mind to be slovenly, which I tell you now I can’t abide. Never could, never would." Mr. Burry released Millicent’s arm and rolled back on his heels.
"Of course you can’t, Burry dear," soothed Lady Serena as they followed Mrs. Phibbs up the stairs.
Lady Elsbeth smiled stiffly, her head bobbing mechanically as she watched them ascend the stairs. When they’d attained the first floor landing she relaxed and sighed deeply before turning to go in search of Jane. She’d best remind her niece to keep her tongue between her teeth. It didn’t do to go borrowing trouble. Particularly any that Serena could contrive.
Lord and Lady Willoughby, accompanied by Sir Garth Helmsdon, arrived some thirty minutes later. Lord Willoughby was a surprisingly ugly brute of a man who spoke with a dialect that reminded Jane of her Uncle Edward and his military cronies. Lady Willoughby was a small, wiry woman who scarcely spoke above a rasping whisper, due, her spouse informed them, to a nearly fatal illness she’d suffered many years before. In contrast to her ugly husband, she was a faded beauty for whom time’s touch had been gentle.
They all appeared tired, dusty, and more than a little disturbed by Serena’s cavalier manner of leaving them to their misfortune. With scarcely a greeting for their hostesses, the Willoughbys retired upstairs. Sir Helmsdon looked predisposed to talk, maneuvering Jane into a corner of the hall for just that purpose. Luckily for Jane her nephews chose that moment to return to the house. They’d seen Sir Helmsdon’s long-tailed gray out in the yard and declared it a beautiful animal. The boys rushed over to the horse’s owner, pummeling him with questions regarding the animal. Jane smiled and murmured her excuses, then slipped out under his arm. Her position was immediately supplanted by Edward, who wanted to know what weight he rode and how long the horse could carry him. Their enthusiastic questions carried them in Sir Helmsdon’s wake as he followed Jeremy to his assigned room.
Elsbeth came to stand beside Jane as they watched the Willoughbys and Sir Helmsdon climb the stairs.
"It would appear Serena’s sterling character has already begun to tarnish," she murmured in Jane’s ear.
"Yes, but she obviously could not hold the Willoughby’s of much account. After all, they do not have an unmarried, wealthy son for Millicent."
"Then why their company?"
"I don’t know; but likely there is a reason—at least one that makes sense to Aunt Serena’s brand of logic. Helmsdon concerns me
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