“You smell delightful, if I may be so forward to say so,” Judith remarked to Lucasta as they took their seats. “Most people wear too much scent. Yours is delicious.”
“Thank you,” Lucasta said, grinning as Rudyard raised a brow. She liked Judith’s directness. “A classmate of mine wishes to become a perfumier, and she is ever experimenting with scents. She made this one for me.”
The other girl lifted a hand near Lucasta’s cheek. “I suppose it would be too bold of me to ask about your hat? Jem says I am too interested in headgear,” she said shyly.
“Not bold at all, but I’m afraid mine is rather plain.” Lucasta let the small, soft hand skim her chip straw bonnet. Judith smiled as she felt the velvet ribbon and the flowers on the brim. “As for the rest of me, very plain as well,” Lucasta said. “Red-gold hair, very pale green eyes, and a few unfortunate freckles.”
“I thought that color came from powder,” Rudyard remarked. He moved about the room, inspecting various items.
“I wish it did, as I’d adopt it.” Bertie placed her hat on a small table, burying a basket of embroidery, and sank gracefully onto an upholstered chair. “Judith, did you style your hair? It’s very elegant.”
“Is it? How relieved I am to hear that. Tressie helped, but one cannot always rely on her judgment. She likes to experiment.” She tilted her head. “Jem, do stop roaming about inspecting everything. Mrs. Cadogan keeps us very well.”
“It’s glad to hear that, I am,” the housekeeper said, entering the room with a tea tray. “Milord, I daresay that nipcheese cook of yours at Arendale House hasn’t been feeding you proper, but someone knew as you were coming and made you a nice lemonseed cake for the occasion. Now, shall Miss Bertie pour or Miss Judith?”
She managed a quick curtsy to Lucasta without breaking stride. “Welcome, miss, welcome you are. Now, Miss Judith likes her cinnamon twists, and Miss Bertie her bites of chocolate, but you just tell Mrs. Cadogan what you fancy, and I’ll have it for you in a trice.”
As Judith lifted her hand, the housekeeper deftly pulled a tea table before the settee and deposited the caddy upon it. “The bread’s me own, made fresh this week, and the milk comes from a’down the street, so not a sour note in it,” she added as she turned the tray to face Judith and straightened a few items upon it. She adjusted her apron and gave Rudyard a cheeky grin. “Does himself want coffee?”
“Tea will do, thank you, unless Miss Lithwick requires something else?”
“Tea will be delightful. I cannot imagine a greater luxury than fresh cream,” Lucasta answered. “At home in Bath our dairy maid milks the cow in the street for us, but I can’t say the same of what gets delivered to Caroline Street.”
“Bath!” Judith exclaimed. “I want to hear all about it. Jem has promised to take me so many places, but he never has time to travel for leisure.” She skimmed her fingers over the tray, checking the placement of each item, and then poured the tea. She held a fingertip at the rim to judge when each cup was full, then added sugar and cream with the ease of habit and passed Lucasta’s cup to her with a smile.
The women sipped their tea and chattered at length about everything they could think of, while Rudyard lounged near thewindow. Ostensibly he watched the street without, but Lucasta had the sense that he missed nothing within the room. He was standing guard, and his protectiveness toward his sister tugged at her heart.
He had risked a great deal, introducing her to Judith. He had clearly feared her disdain, but hoped for better.
She had shared something of her deep, true self with him, singing before him at the Foundling Hospital, and now he had shared something precious with her. Her heart felt full and at the same time tangled. She was crossing a line with him into some territory she wasn’t certain it was wise to enter.
At a natural pause, Rudyard spoke for the first time. “Ought we introduce Miss Lithwick to the rest of us, Jude? It seems so terribly quiet without them.”
Judith paused, alert, and Bertie blinked quickly. “Are you certain, Jem?”
“I should like to,” Judith said quietly, “if you think Miss Lithwick will not mind.”
“Lucasta, please,” Lucasta said. She guessed she had passed one test, in meeting Judith, but underneath Rudyard’s deceptively casual demeanor she sensed a taut watchfulness. Another test awaited.
She wondered why he was testing her at all, and at the same time, she very much wanted to pass.
Judith cocked her head. “We’re going to meet them whether we wish it or not,” she said. “I detect the fishing expedition is over.”
A door at the back of the house slammed, and three new voices began talking over one another. They were young voices, full of the enthusiasm and heedlessness of children, and engaged in a vigorous dispute about who was responsible for scaring off the fish. Mrs. Cadogan broke in with a muted order, and after afew moments of shuffling, splashing, and shushed questions, the housekeeper appeared at the door.
“Shall I bring in the children, milord? They’re eager to see you, but as we have guests…” Her eyes veered to Lucasta, then away.
Lucasta sat up straight. This was definitely a test, and a tendril of trepidation curled through her stomach. They all feared her reaction, but why?
“I’d like Miss Lithwick to meet us all,” Rudyard said mildly, without looking at her, “and I hope she feels the same way. And Bertie hasn’t seen them in some time.”
Three young faces peered around the door, and with motherly hands Mrs. Cadogan brought them in. They lined up, tallest to smallest, and stood fidgeting with excitement while Rudyard made the introductions. Tenderness filled his smile, and Lucasta’s poor heart, already raw with unaccustomed activity of the day, ached as the pieces fit together in her head.
“Miss Lithwick, may I give you the rest of my brothers and sisters. This is Tressie, our resident authority on all things to do with the animal kingdom and most else. This is Starria, our future world explorer. And this is Hannibal, whom you must never challenge to a footrace, as you will undoubtedly lose. Children, this is our new friend, Miss Lucasta Lithwick of Bath.”
The two girls made a quick curtsy and the young boy bowed. They were beautiful children, tidily dressed, hands and faces glistening from their hasty wash. They shared the same smoothly curved features and vivid coloring, curled ebony hair, light brown skin, and wide, thickly lashed eyes dark as chocolate.
She caught Rudyard’s eye. “This is why,” she said softly. Why he had resented Mrs. Sancho’s reference to his father, Earl Payne, off governing an island in the West Indies known for its barbarous practice of enslaving humans. His father had begun another family there.
