I know that sounds lavish, but it is the only description that suits the situation.
An utter massacre.
It is as though Mama stood in the middle of the room with a bow and a full quiver and released arrow after arrow until all the occupants were dispatched.
Having prepared myself for the worst, I am amazed to discover the limits of my imagination. Never in my wildest dreams did I conceive of devastation this extensive.
It is over.
Bea and the duke’s arrival—it will not make a difference.
We are well beyond the Prince Ravenzio scheme now.
If Sebastian decides to continue with the courtship, it will be in defiance of not only his family but also the entire community in which he was raised.
The sensible thing would be to bundle us into a carriage, send us back to London, and forget we ever existed. Miss Braithwaite and Miss Nutting would gladly lend their assistance to the project.
Aware of how atrociously she has behaved, Mama stares morosely into her teacup, which she is clutching in both hands like a small child.
The poor dear—she cannot help herself.
What little poise or self-possession she has deserts her the moment she grows flustered, and she has no ability to regain her equanimity.
Once her composure is lost, it is gone for good.
I am sympathetic to her plight, yes, but also angry that she could not resist her nature for one evening.
And not even a full evening!
Just the one hour in the drawing room before the men join us and Mr. Holcroft proposes we play a game of whist.
Ultimately, of course, it is all my fault for extending Sebastian’s invitation to Red Oaks to my parents. If I had the sense of a goose, I would have come up with a convincing lie and refused without mentioning it to them. Even if it sounded false, Sebastian would never have questioned the excuse. He is too much of a gentleman to make a lady uncomfortable.
But what is done is done, I think, as Mrs. Holcroft turns to my mother with an overly bright smile and thanks her for her candor. “Your eagerness to share your opinions without censoring your thoughts is so very quaint.”
Mama lowers her head further, her chin practically pressing against the lace trim of her dress, as she mumbles a reply.
Thankfully, it is unintelligible.
Chapter Three
Ido not expect Sebastian to visit my bedchamber after everyone has retired and reassure me with steadfast confidence that the damage wrought by my mother’s display is not irrevocable. A high stickler with a rigid moral code, he would never endanger my reputation with such outré behavior, especially not in the hallowed halls of his family home. Exhausted by the end of the interminable evening, I flutter my eyes closed the moment my head hits the pillow. I do not need the patter of rain to help me fall asleep and am only vaguely aware of a torrential downpour that batters my windows in the early hours.
What Idoexpect, however, is for Sebastian to offer ardent reassurances in the morning. As he is an early riser, someone in the household, either family or servant, should have carried the tale to him by eight o’clock, which is why I present myself to the airy parlor next to the breakfast room a half hour later. Not wishing to appear overly eager, I settle nonchalantly into an overfilled armchair, its Spanish fly damask drawing out the green flecks in my eyes. In an ideal world, there would be beams of sunlight pouring in through the eastern exposure, giving my auburn hair a golden cast, but the day is cloudy.
No matter.
I am still shown to advantage by the setting and hold the pose for ten minutes.
Then I round my shoulders and slink into the chair.
Waiting for Sebastian is so boring!
Failing to anticipate a wait, I did not bother to bring a book with me, a decision I regret now as I look around the room for something to read.
All I see isThe English Practical Navigator.
It is a long way fromThe Devil’s Elixirs,but the tome’s scientific bent and important subject matter will confer on me an air of erudition that is not unwelcome. My knowledge of celestial navigation is nonexistent, and I could stand to learn a little something about finding my way around without a map (orwitha map, for that matter). Consequently, I retrieve it from the table and turn to chapter one, grateful for the opportunity for self-improvement.
