“Come, sit next to me.” Katherine patted a nearby chair, dark eyes gleaming. “So that we may become better acquainted.”
Petra settled herself in the chair indicated. She perched on the cushion, posture so ram-rod straight one could put a plate of food on her head and not a drop would spill. Indeed, that had been a game of Mother’s years ago. A plate of peas, rolling about a small saucer would be placed upon her head while tea was served. If even one pea left the plate, Petra was denied anything to eat and had to wait until dinner. “What a lovely gown.” Petra nodded to Katherine.
The dress, cut in the latest fashion, was of shimmering dove-gray silk. An underskirt shot through with deep indigo thread, brushed her matching slippers. The neckline, decorated with ribbon matching the underskirt, was rather dramatic and Katherine’s very ample assets were on full display. Hardly appropriate widow’s weeds. The cloud of Katherine’s dark sable hair was pulled away from her face and piled atop her head in a spill of curls. The hairstyle emphasized her delicate bone structure and the swanlike length of her neck. Small diamonds dangled from her ears and a pear-shaped diamond hung between the deep valley of her breasts.
Katherine was stunningly beautiful, Petra acknowledged, looking down at her own pale yellow dress. She had never felt more like a child playing dress up than she did next to Katherine’s sophistication and style.
Katherine’s full lips pulled into a smile as she noted Petra’s assessment.
She’s trying to intimidate me. And thus far succeeding brilliantly.
“I was growing concerned your previous ailment had returned.” Petra’s mother looked up from her conversation, plump fingers clutching the glass of sherry, eyes systematically checking her daughter’s posture for any deficit.
“I’m quite well, Mother.” Petra’s hands slid together and locked atop her lap. Her mother’s gown was the color of a blackberry and coupled with her generous form, invited all sorts of unwelcome comparisons.
“I trust you find your rooms acceptable?” Katherine asked.
“Yes, thank you. They’re lovely. How kind of you to inquire,” Petra said automatically, knowing she was doomed to another evening of polite conversation about nothing.
“I must thank you,” Lady Pendleton said from her place on the couch as she took a generous sip of sherry. “I have been looking forward to your visit for weeks, not only because it gives us all a chance to know one another better, but also because it has given me an opportunity to entertain. I don’t think we’ve had guests at Brushbriar since dear Katherine was to marry Whitfield.” Her eyes grew wistful. “The engagement party was the stuff of legends.”
“I’m sure it will be amarveloustime,” Mother said.
Petra didn’t think Mother had yet gotten over the fact they’d been surprised by the news of the house party. Her fingers toyed with the folds of her skirt, a sure sign of annoyance. “We are looking forward to meeting your neighbors.”
“All of our friends are lovely, of course, but I’m especially looking forward to seeing Lord Haddon. He’s a widower.” Lady Pendleton gave her daughter a pointed look. “And a handsome, wealthy one at that. The poor man has four daughters and each of them a trial. I read again his reply to our invitation and Haddon will be bringing his eldest daughter, Jordana, to Brushbriar. He finds our little party to be a perfect opportunity for the girl to practice her dancing and social skills. She’ll have her first Season soon.”
“I do hope he’s had more luck with her manners. Haddon has lost yet another dancing instructor for the Haddon Hellions,” Katherine interjected. “This one, Mr. Gatwick, recommended by the Countess of Suffolk no less, ran from the house without taking his belongings. He took the first coach to London and sent for his things rather than stay at Bronsby Abbey one more night.”
Mother’s sherry was poised at her bottom lip. “Dear me.”
“The girls are only in dire need of a strong, feminine hand.” Lady Pendleton shot another warning glance at Katherine. “Haddon is looking for a wife. His has been dead for over five years. High time he remarried.”
“He will need to look elsewhere,” Katherine murmured in a low tone.
“I confess, Katherine was right to correct my error and invite Lord Morwick and his mother. We were once quite close, you know. Before…” Her words trailed off. “Poor, dear Marissa. She’s had her share of tragedy, hasn’t she? Widowed three times, each time under mysterious, tragic circumstances. My husband and the late earl, Reginald, were friends and often went hunting together.” She shook her head. “When he disappeared…” Lady Pendleton allowed the words to hang in the air, “we never found any sign of him even though every man in the county searched for days. He had vanished without a trace and no one has seen him since.”
Petra immediately stiffened at Lady Pendleton’s recounting of the tragedy of Morwick’s father.Gossiping old harpy.
“So I’ve been told,” Mother agreed. “Even in London, his disappearance is still discussed. Lady Cupps-Foster has endured much.”
“Indeed, I’m sure you’ve noticed how eccentric Morwick is. Katherine, Simon and Morwick all ran about the moors together, the greatest of friends. But, Morwick.” She shook her head sadly as if it pained her to impart such information. “He and Simon were often at odds. One well-mannered, one rather savage.”
There was no doubt who she though the savage.
“Not to mention Morwick’s elder brother, Baron Kelso. A brute and a bully. He was constantly picking fights with Simon. Between the brawling and the Gypsies—”
“Gypsies?” Mother set down her empty glass.
“Yes. I forbade Simon to associate with Morwick after that.” She glanced at Katherine. “And Katherine as well. Morwick would disappear, much like his father, for days at a time. Marissa often worried her son would run away with the tribe for he adored the colored wagons they drove. Katherine did not heed my warning about associating with such…people.”
“The Gypsies were interesting.” Katherine lifted her chin in defiance. “I could hardly blame him for chasing after them or their wagons. The women wore the most gorgeous scarves and dresses, all in bright yellows, reds, and purple. And they danced barefoot around the fire. I declare I could not look away.”
“Katherine,” Lady Pendleton warned. “Your childish observations are in no way based in reality. The Gypsies were dirty, ill-mannered thieves who stole sheep and picked pockets when no one was looking.”
Katherine’s lips tightened at the rebuke.
“Regardless,” Lady Pendleton said, “Morwick didn’t care to be a gentlemen. When the old duke of Dunbar finally took a firm hand with his grandson, it was too late, in my opinion. Morwick had been overindulged by his mother, who was too busy mourning her late husband to raise him properly.”
