“We expected to spend at least part of the Season with our daughter during her first months as a peeress.”
Diantha’s hand clenched around her fork. Her parents had evidently not milked enough attention from the marriage they had engineered.
“After months of being away from my home, London held little interest for me.” Kieran drawled the words with every evidence of boredom.
Papa harrumphed. “And what about our daughter, sir? As her parents, we are entitled to her company when we want it.”
“Ah, but the law gave that privilege to me upon my marriage.”
Livid at being argued over like a parcel, Diantha confined most of her conversation for the rest of the evening to Barclay.
Her sense of ill-use lasted to the next day. The weather did not help, turning to a chill mist that veiled the distant hills. She ordered a fire built in the winter salon, a comfortable room lined with golden oak. Iona grumbled about lowered standards at Duncarie, but wasted no time availing herself of a seat near the fire. Granny had already settled into a wing chair opposite with an oldfashioned lapdesk.
Kieran entered shortly afterward. “Jarrard saideveryone had gathered here. A capital idea on such adreichday.”
“If that means dismal, yes, I thought it would be cheerier to welcome people here.” Diantha did not look up from her needlepoint.
Her brothers, playing a listless game of backgammon in the corner, greeted him more enthusiastically.
“I say, old boy!” Thomas’s poor imitation of a British accent grated on her ears. “Rotten weather today, isn’t it? I hoped to go out for a day’s shooting. Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow.”
“Grouse season commences on August twelfth.” Kieran smiled, but his voice brooked no argument.
Thomas chuckled. “What’s a day or five early matter when you’re the landowner? It’s not as though anyone is going to turn you in.”
Barclay entered in time to hear both men. “Shooting before the twelfth is out of the question. It’s not done.” He sauntered over to the table at Diantha’s elbow and picked up a book. As he sat down across from her, he mouthed “my sympathies.” She bent farther over her canvas so no one would see her struggle not to laugh.
Kieran overrode her brother’s protest. “I fear the matter is closed.”
As Papa’s favorite, Tom normally got what he wanted after a minimum of teasing. She would have to watch his mood now, for he often lost his temper when balked.
Kieran frowned as his glance fell on Barclay in the chair nearest to Diantha. Changing course, he moved to sit down near her grandmother. “And who are you writing to, Mrs. Helford?”
“The Dowager Comtesse de Pontrevault.” She blotted her letter. “She’s invited me to winter with her in the south of France and sends you her love, Dina.”
Iona and Barclay’s jaws dropped. Diantha pushed her needle into the canvas. The day might not be as bad as she dreaded.
That day’s guests lived nearer than Aberdeen and arrived after luncheon. The maligned Cousin Francesca proved a particularly pleasant surprise. Instead of the middle-aged dragon conjured by Iona and Barclay, a woman of perhaps twenty-eight years swept into the hall on Kieran’s arm.
“Thank you so much for inviting me, Lady Ross-burn. Kieran has never snubbed me, but I did not know if you would be willing to have a mere colonel’s widow under your roof.” She accompanied the words with a dazzling smile.
Diantha liked her at once. “As the daughter of a mere ‘mister,’ I can hardly object.”
“You’re very kind.” She removed her mantle, bonnet, and gloves, handing them to Jarrard. She wore a neat poplin gown in the gray of half-mourning.
The butler bowed. “If I may say, it is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Francesca.”
“I am delighted to visit Duncarie again after so many years. But I prefer to be called Mrs. Urquhart.”
“Lady Francesca?” Diantha looked from her to Kieran.
“My father is the Earl of Turbury.” Her lips thinned. “He cast me off when I eloped with the man I loved and refused all contact with me even after my poor William was killed five years ago.”
“Iona and Barclay are doubtless having palpitationsat this moment.” Kieran chuckled. “However, my mother wishes to see you during your stay.”
“They have never found me sufficiently servile.” She and Diantha fell into step behind Kieran. “I do hope you stand up to them.”
While Iona made no secret of her disapproval, she did not cause any ugly scenes in front of the other guests.
