Sleek.
Polished.
Marble.
Deep instincts wanted to throw the letter on the fire.
As if to prevent that, Sillikin came over to paw at her skirt.
“We have no other chance at a comfortable life, do we?” Kitty said. “And I’m not committed yet. Not until the vows are said. By then I’ll be more settled in my mind. He is interesting, Sillikin. Cool and smooth as marble, but there’s more beneath. I’m sure of that. The question is what lies beneath—good or bad?”
***
Braydon encountered Andrew Lulworth near the stables.
“Should I wish you happy?” Lulworth asked.
“The bird is not yet in hand,” Braydon replied. “Mrs. Cateril is to write to her mother-in-law.”
“Why?”
“To inform her. The woman seems unbalanced by grief.”
“The loss of a child is never forgotten.”
“Will her daughter-in-law’s remarriage kill her?”
“I’ve never known such a case. Consider old Lady Dauntry. A devoted mother who was deeply distressed by her son’s death, along with that of her grandson. She was almost mad with it for a time, I understand, but she resumed her life within a month.”
“And the running of the estate. Has she always done that?”
“Probably. Certainly as long as we’ve been here. The fifth viscount was often away. Parliament, hunting, shooting, and such.”
Ivor was grazing in the paddock, but came at a call. Dauntry set about saddling the horse himself.
Lulworth came to help. “How is the dowager taking your authority? You’ve never said.”
“With outward sorrow and inner bile.”
“Then how’s she going to react to your wife?”
“I dread to think.”
“I don’t detect the shivers.”
“I’ve faced worse.”
“And won, I’m sure. Ruth’s flying in alt at the thought of her dearest friend so close.”
“Flying is a perilous business,” Dauntry warned.
“Not for birds.”
“None of us have wings.”
“Taking refuge behind precision? My wife is anticipating high delight.”
“Which might also lead to a tumble.”
