Before she could leave, there was a tap on the door of her bedchamber and Bertrand let himself in without waiting for a summons. Estelle joined him there and shut the dressing room door.
The scold was not to be avoided, then, was it?
He stood against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, and looked steadily at Estelle while she smiled brightly.
“The lake and waterfall are lovely, are they?” she said. “I look forward to seeing them. The summerhouse is lovely too. There is a magnificent view to the southeast.”
He continued to gaze at her.
“What is it?” she asked a bit crossly.
“Just exactly what I was about to ask you,” he said. “Whatisit, Stell?”
Oh, that wretched twin connection.
“Nothing at all,” she said. “This is all going very well, is it not? I believe Maria is going to be fine without too much help from us.”
“Stell,” he said. “Did he say something ordosomething to upset you?”
“No, of course not,” she said. But naturally she went on to confess. “Oh, Bert, he asked me tomarryhim. And hekissedme.” She closed her eyes. “And a fine one I am forkeeping my private business to myself. Why did there have to betwoof us? Why not just one, like everyone else? Just me. Or just you.”
“It would not feel right, would it?” he said. “There would be something missing. Like half of oneself. Most people do not seem to feel it, of course. Only twins, and not even all of them. We are stuck with it. Tell me, do I need to slap a glove in his face?”
“No-o-o,” she said, and her voice came out on a bit of a wail.
“Heisthe Earl of Brandon,” he said. “He owns all this, and my guess is that there are pots of money with which to sustain it and a lavish lifestyle to boot. He is probably... what? Thirtyish? Not very much older than you. I saw him once at White’s Club in London when I went there with Papa. He was dining alone with Avery—the Duke of Netherby—and they seemed to be on the best of terms. Avery does not strike me as the sort who would dine with a villain or a boor.”
“Are you telling me that I ought to have accepted his proposal?” she asked.
“I take it you did not,” he said. “He is not your perfect someone, Stell?”
“He had a whole litany of very sensible reasons why I should accept his proposal,” she said. “The equality of our birth, et cetera. Oh, and my advanced age, which suggests I have been holding back for love but have not found it. Therefore, I ought to see the wisdom of forgetting about love and marrying for more sound reasons. Or something to that effect.”
“No!” His eyes laughed for a moment. “He is not a romantic, then?”
“Poof.” She made a gesture of disgust.
“But he kissed you.”
“It was horrible,” she said.
“Was it?” He tipped his head to one side and looked closely at her again. She hated it when he did that. She felt as though all her insides were laid bare to him. She felt sometimes that he knew her better than she knew herself.
“It was,” she assured him. “It was horrible.” She set the back of her hand over her mouth.
“Don’t start crying,” he said softly. “We are going to have to go down pretty soon or there will be no Chelsea buns left.”
“I am not going tocry,” she protested, and punched him in the chest.
“Good.” He stood back to open the door and offer his arm. “But I will say this for him, Stell, even if youaremy sister. He has good taste.”
She laughed a bit shakily.
Ten
By the time Justin returned to the house and changed into dry clothes, his guests were gathering in the drawing room for hot drinks and light refreshments. Luncheon, his butler informed him, had been moved back half an hour at Lady Maria’s direction. The refreshments, Justin guessed, were not very light at all.
It seemed a merry enough gathering, he thought as he stood on the threshold of the room. Although almost all the younger people had fallen victim to the drizzle, which had now turned to rain, their spirits did not appear to have been dampened.
