Lyra stood as her mother strode into the parlor. She forced a smile as the older woman enveloped her in a hug and couldn’t help but stiffen slightly at the contact. As much as she was gaining ground with her mother, Lavinia Garrott, Lady Eversleigh, she was still uncomfortable around her. But as her mother pulled away, she did her best to be hospitable. She gestured to a tray in the middle of the room. “Since you wrote ahead to let me know of your arrival, I had tea prepared.”
“That was kind of you,” Lavinia took a seat on the settee.
Lyra chose to sit across from her. For a moment, she thought she’d seen a flicker of shadow pass across the dowager’s face, but Lavinia recovered quickly enough to say, “I was so happy to hear that all the charges had been dropped. Thank goodness justice is still evident in England.”
“I had a wonderful barrister in Mr. Lyridon,” Lyra said. She suddenly took a letter out of her pocket and passed it to her mother. “That reminds me. I received a note from Mara just this morning. She and Roarke have made it to Greece.”
Lyra knew it would take a miracle to pull a genuine smile from her after Alister’s abrupt departure, but as she read the exhilaration in her new sister-in-law’s words, she had felt true happiness. Mara Miller had been, not only a ladies’ maid to her in their younger years, but also a dear friend. After years of personal struggle, she and Roarke had finally married and were currently on their honeymoon. Lyra had hardly known anyone to be so in love, unless it was her brother’s close friend, the Earl of Rockford, and his wife, Athena.
While Lyra might have wished for the same kind of union, she didn’t begrudge the others their joy.
“This must have crossed with my letter,” Lavinia was saying, her words causing Lyra to frown curiously.
“What do you mean?”
With a sheepish expression, her mother explained, “I wrote to your brother about your situation and expressly asked for his swift assistance.”
“I wish you wouldn’t have.” Lyra sighed, but she knew there was no help for it now. She had no doubt that once Roarke read that letter, he would cut his time with his new bride short and return to London immediately.
“I wasn’t sure how long this awful matter might drag out,” the dowager pointed out. “Besides, it was only right that he should know of your misfortunes.”
“You shouldn’t have worried him unnecessarily. Besides, it’s all over now.”
At least shehopedso. After Lyra found out Alister had been investigating her for treason, she wasn’t completely sure she was out of the woods just yet. But she wasn’t about to tell her motherthat.
“Well, let’s not dwell on spilled milk,” Lavinia said. “I came by, not only to tell you how relieved I was about the murder charges, but to tell you that I’m leaving London for a house party for the next fortnight and I was hoping you might join me.”
“Have you forgotten that I’m still in mourning? How can I possibly go anywhere without causing an uproar, especially now?”
“Because it’s Christmas,” her mother said firmly. “I have it all arranged. Lord and Lady Harville are hosting the event and it just so happens that the countess is a good friend of mine. We actually had our debut the same year. She specifically wrote and invited me with you in mind because it will be a small affair, with only a few guests in attendance. Since I thought it might be rather macabre with just the two of us over the holidays, I decided it might be nice to get out of the city for awhile.”
Lyra had to admit that the chance to escape sounded rather pleasant. It appeared she now had the choice to accept her mother’s offer or sit here and bemoan Alister’s loss.
With a bright smile, she asked, “It sounds wonderful. When do we leave?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Thank you so much for the invitation, Lady Harville.” Lyra had already handed over her outer wear to a footman, but as she stood in the foyer and greeted her host and hostess, traces of snow were still clinging to her boots and the edges of her skirts.
It was amazing what a difference a day could make—or even a few hours.
In the time it had taken Lyra to instruct her maid to pack her trunks, have them loaded on the Eversleigh coach, and travel to Chatham, Kent, a line of rolling, gray clouds had closed in and effectively dumped nearly four inches of snow on them. It was rather unprecedented, really. Because of this, travel had turned sluggish and caused them to show up at Harville Manor at nightfall, when they should have arrived closer to noon.
As Lyra and her mother were ushered into the parlor, the cheery fire that burned in the grate was a welcome sight. It had been a chilly trip, even with a warming brick and a heavy wool blanket. Lyra was so cold even now that she didn’t care they had missed the evening meal, but Lady Harville promised that a tray would be sent to their rooms nevertheless.
As their hostess introduced the new arrivals to those seated about the room, Lyra discovered she knew most of the occupants, even if it was just in passing. The Earl and Countess of Crawford were the parents of a girl she’d had her debut with, the Marquess of Scottswood and his wife had a son in the military, who had also gone to school with Roarke, and both the Baron of Easton and his wife, as well as the Viscount of Winthorp and his wife, spent most of their time in London, so Lyra had seen them at various ton functions.
Sir Bowly and Sir Peadmont, a baronet and knight respectively, were the only bachelors in attendance, both of whom were childless widowers well into their fifties, but had been invited as they were close friends of Lord Harville and were looking forward to a bit of hunting.
Thankfully, the gathering was just as her mother had claimed, for everyone was perfectly cordial as they greeted her. They seemed to hold no condemnation of the fact she was attending a house party when she was still in the early stages of mourning.
Except for one.
As Lyra was brought before a severe-looking woman in a garish, purple turban, she had a sense of foreboding. She quickly found out why, although it had nothing to do with the woman’s haughty perusal.
“And this is Euphemia, Lady Franheim,” Lady Harville was saying. “Euphemia, may I present Lyra, Lady Weston, and her mother, Lavinia, the dowager Viscountess Eversleigh?”
Dear God, this was Alister’s sister!For some reason, the desire to garner her approval seemed imperative to Lyra—until the lady opened her mouth.
