“I was the one arguingforyou and Oliver,” Portia pointed out.
“I know,” her sister said. “And I appreciate everything you’ve done. Truly, I do.”
Portia wasn’t so certain Minnie did. She focused on wiping the table with a linen cloth.
But she’ll have you here.Minnie’s words echoed in Portia’s head. Once again, she felt trapped. Forgotten. Set aside.
Portia took the conversation back to its original thoughts and away from her own disturbing feelings. “Well, now Lady Emma may see us evicted from Camber Hall because of the scene this afternoon,” she murmured.
“Oh, Portia, is the duke truly that petty that he would listen to her?”
Portia rubbed the top of the table with her hand thoughtfully a moment before deciding to take her sister into her confidence. “Her jealousies extend beyond you,” she said. “Lady Emma made the trip over here today to warn me to stay away from Colonel Chattan. She believes he is interested in me.”
Minnie laughed. “She doesn’t know you at all, does she?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Her sister shrugged as if realizing she might be treading on tender ground. She started ladling hot water into pitchers to be carried upstairs for thebedrooms as she said, “He’s a rake. And a womanizer. He may be dashing but he’s too much.”
“Too much what?” Portia pressed.
“Well, too much for you. You are not his sort of woman.”
Portia didn’t know if she liked the description. “What sort of woman is his sort?”
Again, Minnie shrugged as if realizing she might be on tender ground. She picked up two pitchers, preparing to leave the room and avoid the question.
“Is Lady Emma his sort of woman?” Portia asked.
A cautious look came to Minnie’s eye. “I don’t know. She has a dowry.” She’d tossed that last off as if to explain away her comment.
But Portia was in the mood to take offense.
This afternoon, for a moment, she’d thought there was a connection between her and Colonel Chattan. She’d let herself consider that he might be attracted to her. Certainly, she had found herself attracted to him. That spark had been lit when she’d made the statement about her father, a strong one, to be sure, and had noticed a bit of admiration in the colonel’s eye when she’d not apologized for her opinion of Black Jack.
And although Minnie was speaking aloud thoughts Portia had had about herself, the verdictstung. Her sister was usually more loyal. Perhaps the prospect of becoming Mrs. Oliver Tolliver made her believe herself better than Portia?
The bitterness, the hurt behind this sort of thinking was dangerous. Now might be a good time to put distance between herself and her sister.
“I must see to Honey and bring in the goats,” she said, crossing over to where her cloak hung on a peg. She reached for the oil lamp and went over to the fire to light it.
“Portia, I didn’t mean all what I said quite the way it sounded. It’s just that Colonel Chattan is known for the lovers he has taken. They are the cream of the cream. Lusty women. Women who aren’t good enough to polish your shoes. I hope I haven’t upset you.”
“You haven’t,” Portia said, carrying her lamp and moving toward the door.
“I know that tone of voice. You’ve taken offense. Please, Portia, I’m just saying someone like Colonel Chattan is not the sort of man for you.”
Portia paused by the door, one hand on the latch. “What sort of man would be for me, Minnie?”
Her sister raised her brows and seemed to mentally scramble for words.
“Never mind,” Portia answered. “I know that I’m long of tooth. I’m done. I was done before Iever started. But there was a moment this afternoon when I thought—” She stopped. She’d not told Minnie of meeting Colonel Chattan alone at the dance. Her sister had been too busy accepting Mr. Tolliver’s proposal of marriage to worry about Portia’s whereabouts at the time.
“Thought what?” Minnie asked.
“Thought I didn’t know why the ladies were all so giddy around him,” Portia finished.
“I understand why,” Minnie said with a laugh. “He is handsome. I might be giddy around himself, except now I have my Ollie.”
