“My dear boy, your sentiments do you greatcredit, but she does need to be cushioned against shocks.”
Diantha nearly choked on a bite of watercress sandwich.
Kieran chuckled. “My wife may not be conventional, but she is hardly a shock to the system, Aunt.” His eyes twinkled over the top of his cup as he sipped. “At least not a bad one.”
In no mood for his teasing, she nearly blurted out a few words that would have shocked him as well as his aunt. Only the opening door saved her from such shrewish behavior.
“Kieran!” In the doorway stood a man nearly as tall as her husband, similar enough in features and coloring that they could have been brothers.
“Barclay!” Her husband set his cup down and rose to his feet. Striding over, he greeted the man with a backslapping embrace. Diantha watched, amazed. She had never seen men do more than shake hands in greeting. On her right, Iona winced.
“Nephew, do sit down and allow your cousin to have his tea.” His mother poured milk into a teacup, following it with the clear brown liquid.
“Damme, I swore to Mother that you wouldn’t arrive before six at the earliest.” The newcomer crossed the room with Kieran. “I hope you forgive me for not being here to greet you and your lovely bride.” He sketched a bow in Diantha’s direction. Thankful that someone seemed to notice her, she smiled back.
“Barclay, your language.” Uttering the remonstration in the fondest of tones, his mother handed him his teacup. He accepted it, but stayed on his feet.
Kieran laughed. “Since it’s a surprise to me that you’re here, of course I do! It was good of you to stay for us.”
His cousin opened his eyes wide. Darker than Kieran’s, they sparkled bottle green instead of aqua. “My dear boy, what else is family for? Now, do I actually get to meet my charming new relative or not?”
“Only if you promise not to steal her away.” Kieran strolled over to her. “Diantha, I’d like to present my cousin, Barclay Upton. Barclay, the new Lady Rossburn.”
“Delighted to meet you, your ladyship.” Underneath his charming manner, she detected a sharp look of appraisal in his eyes that disquieted her. It disappeared so quickly she wondered if she imagined it. And she must expect some curiosity from her husband’s family.
“I owe you an apology.” Mr. Upton’s soft-spoken words surprised her as he kissed her hand. “Forgive me, Lady Rossburn, for ever thinking my cousin married you only for your fortune. I’m sure he kept your loveliness a secret out of a wish not to make his male relatives jealous.”
Kieran had informed them that she was rich and had not even bothered to describe her appearance? That knowledge hurt, though knowing herself to be merely pretty at best, she did not know why it should. “Please, call me Diantha.”
“And you must call me Cousin Barclay.” With a warm smile, he took a seat opposite his mother. “And my mother shall be your aunt Iona.”
Following a look of malevolence at her offspring, that lady collected herself and tittered. “My dear,I’m sure my nephew felt no need to send us a description of any detail of Lady Rossburn’s appearance, or her wardrobe. The newspapers did not spare us a single detail!” She left the word “vulgar” unsaid, but they all understood her meaning.
The newspaper stories her mother had given to the American papers must have been published in Britain as well. A wave of hot shame rolled over her as both men looked at the older woman.
That combined with Iona’s rudeness, Kieran’s indifference, and two long days of travel to overwhelm her. Close to tears, she set her cup and saucer down with a rattle.
“Please excuse me. I must dress for dinner.” With that, she stood and nearly bolted out of the room.
As soon as she shut the door behind her, she realized what a fool she had made of herself. She could not very well go back into the drawing room and she had no idea how to find her bedchamber. Fortunately, a footman arrived to light the chandeliers then. Hearing her request, he bowed and asked her to follow him.
By the time she reached her chamber, through a confusing maze of hallways and stairs, she learned that Charles had grown up on the estate and his parents lived on the far side of the glen, and that his lordship’s people were chuffed that he brought home a bonny young wife with a fouth of siller. Grasping that he intended the last part as a compliment to her person and fortune, she thanked him and slipped inside.
Despite her anger at the woman, she had to admit that Kieran’s aunt possessed exquisite taste. A high four-poster bed of carved cherry wood satagainst one wall. The embroidered hangings harmonized with the pale dove gray walls in a restful palette and matched the drapes and upholstery. She could see where the sun had faded the fabric in places, and guessed that refurbishing the house had taken second place to helping the estate prosper. An alcove held a carved antique dressing table and mirror, while in a corner bay, a cherry wood writing table with a blue and white porcelain inkstand and quill-holder invited her to sit down and write.
Her trunks lay open in the middle of the room. Peering into the armoire, she discovered that Florette had already put away several of her gowns. Locating the bellpull, she rang for the maid.
Then, unable to hold back her tears, she sat down at the vanity and buried her face in her hands.
When Florette entered, she placed a comforting hand on Diantha’s heaving back and turned to the under housemaid accompanying her. “Milady is homesick. Fetch ice and a cold cloth at once, and send up cans of hot water for the hip bath.”
As soon as the door closed, she bustled over to close the armoire door. “Now, tell me what has really upset you,ma mie.”
After a gulp, Diantha blotted her eyes with her handkerchief. “Lady William is ghastly! She has taken an instant dislike to me, and the feeling is entirely mutual.”
The Frenchwoman made a disparaging noise in the back of her throat. “I have already heard much below the stairs about this aunt. She is the sister of milord’s father, and has ruled here for nearly fifteen years, even before milord’s father died.”
She winked. “It is only to be expected that she should detest you on sight. You are now the lady of the house, and she must either go back to her dead husband’s family, who do not like her either, or stay on as a poor relation.”
