I left some hours later with one in hand,Sense and Sensibility.
The following day, I approached my father with the request. Years of practice had taught me the best method for achieving the desired result when asking something of my father. Between the second and third drink was ideal. Explaining the request so the answer one wanted was apparent but still requesting his input worked well. My father was confident that he was the smartest in any given room. With a minimal expenditure of effort on my part, I secured permission to join Kate and made my escape just as he was pouring the third glass of Port.
* * *
MICHAEL
“I forgot to tell you,Juliet will be joining us in the country,” Kate said, casually informing my brother while passing the potatoes.
In one sentence, she destroyed the work of weeks.
I’d tried to excise Lady Juliet from my mind. To think of something else. To focus on my work. My efforts were ineffective at best, at times actually detrimental. Were it not for Augie’s attention, my ledger mistakes would be enough to bankrupt a tiny principality. My personal coffers were feeling the effects of my distraction at the gaming tables.
I did, however, pay more attention during the last three dinners—hoping for brief mentions of Kate’s friend—than I had in all previous dinners combined. Today was especially fortunate as Agatha was dining out with a friend. It was surprising to me that she had any friends, quite honestly. Her absence meant the distraction of dodging well-placed barbs and deflecting them from Kate was lifted from my shoulders.
Kate was truly kind to mention her without prompting. Thus far, I had been preoccupied the entire evening, desperately searching for an opportunity to turn the conversation in Lady Juliet’s direction. I had not thought they would head back to the country so soon after their honeymoon as well.
“Who?” Hugh asked.
Tom’s face met his palm in exasperation across from me. Even with no particular interest in the girl, Tom knew she was a regular dinner subject. That Hugh could not remember his wife’s dearest friend was an insult to the lady.
“Lady Juliet.” Kate’s tone was clipped, irritation barely restrained.
Hugh moved his peas around his plate absently, not glancing at his wife. “Have I met her?”
The question was followed by the scratch of wooden chair legs on a matching floor. Silverware clattered with the motion, the table shuttering slightly at Kate’s sudden rise. The movement seemed to draw Hugh from his plate, confused at the jarring shudder. She offered no explanation before her hasty retreat, only a thick, emotional, “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
Tom and I were left staring and gaping as burnt-orange skirts swishing around the corner, trailing in her wake. We turned our attention toward our nitwit of a brother, and he gawked back at us.
Shrugging his shoulders, he concluded, “Must be feeling poorly.”
Words escaped me, and Tom, ever the sociable brother, was left with nothing more than an exasperated, “Hugh!”
“What?”
Tom and I exchanged a significant glance. Given a choice between Hugh and Kate, I much preferred the latter. And frankly, given the same choice, Tom was far more likely to have success with the former.
I nodded my head toward Hugh before rising. “I’ll be back in a moment,” I said before following Kate’s path.
Hugh’s question followed me out, “Do you suppose it’s the roast?”
I had never been more confident in a choice than I was just then, leaving Hugh to Tom’s care.
Now alone in the hall, I had no idea where Kate might go to collect herself. No plan appeared forthcoming, so I was left to peer into various rooms along the corridor. Drawing room—empty. Billiard room—empty. Nearing the end of the hall, there was a stream of light under the library’s double doors.
With a fortifying breath, I knocked and entered simultaneously. Though rude, I didn’t wish for her to have the opportunity to refuse me entry. She whirled around from the novel she was paging through. It belonged to the stack, the ones I set out on my visits.
“Oh, Michael, can I help you with something?”
Her voice was small and tight, and her blue-gray doe eyes were glossy, an avalanche of tears clinging to the edge of her lashes. Her always pale skin was flushed with upset. I hadn’t wanted to punch Hugh in his smug face this badly in ages. Perhaps not since the time, years ago, when I actually had.
“I came to see if you’re alright.”
“Of course, it was nothing. I’m perfectly alright. Fine really. Nothing to worry about.”
“Right. Because if you were, perhaps, less than fine, irritated with my inconsiderate brother even, I would be available to listen if you weren’t fine… which you are.”
Her answering sigh was long. “Am I to spend the rest of my life reminding my husband that he’s met my dearest friend? Numerous times, in fact. Frequently multiple times in a week.”
