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“Perfectly acceptable, though we won’t change tonight.”
“Of course not.” Mrs. Barrow beams. “Well, Mr. Quinten always did say you could light up a room in anything, and that’s certainly true.”
“Oh,” I say in surprise, glancing at our host, whose red face must match my own. Mrs. Barrow doesn’t seem at all embarrassed, even with Quint’s fiancée in the room. Quint’s fiancée, on the other hand, narrows her eyes for the briefest moment at the housekeeper before her ever-present smile returns.
“You do look quite well for having just arrived from—where did you say?” Kitty asks, looking between Ben, Quint, and me.
“Paris,” Ben answers. “It’s my sister’s favorite.”
I nearly snort with laughter. It’s the same answer I gave William when I first arrived at The Villa. Ben casts a grin back at me that does a lot for soothing my nerves—but I pray Kitty hasn’t ever been to Paris because neither have I yet, and if she asks me about anything, the game will be up.
“Oh, how marvelous,” is all Kitty, thankfully, says.
“They’re staying here?” Florence interrupts and turns to Quint in surprise, disapproval obvious in her voice.
Kitty frowns. “Of course they would, Flory. They’re the Allens’ dearest friends besides us.”
I almost like Kitty for the defense. If she weren’t marrying Quint … and if she had been the least bit genuine.
Florence’s face doesn’t change. “On such short notice?”
Kitty laughs. “Oh, stop being so prudish. It’s Quint’s house, not yours.”
Quint clears his throat before presenting us with a shaky smile. “Is dinner ready, Mrs. Barrow?” he asks, as though he hopes the housekeeper will throw him a rescue line.
“Oh, yes, sir,” she says. “I was on my way to tell you.”
“Thank you. Show Frank in when he gets here.” Quint turns to Ben and me. “My pal Frank Gardiner is joining us as well.”
“How rude to be so late,” Mr. Chamberlayne speaks for the first time.
Kitty laughs, moving to take Quint’s arm. “Everybody loves Frank, so no one minds at all,” she excuses.
Edward’s face holds the same disdain of the world as Florence’s. They seem the perfect match. “Of course not,” Edward drawls.
Ben offers me his arm to walk into the dining room, and I’m glad to take it. “How are you?” he asks.
“Fine,” I insist. “Really,” I add when he tips an eyebrow in doubt.
“Are you tired from … the trip?”
I shake my head. “Not at all.” It’s only after I say it that I remember using that excuse after first meeting Quint to explain how upended I was.
“You must be getting better, as you thought.”
I nod, avoiding his gaze. “Perhaps I am.”
I use the age-old excuse of a headache after dinner to get out of joining the others in the drawing room. Ben eyes me, his gaze questioning my earlier answer of being fine. I’ll let him assume what he wants.
Mrs. Barrow bustles in to show me up to my room to rest until Ben and Quint call me back down when the guests leave.
“This way, dear.” Mrs. Barrow beams as she leads me back toward the grand staircase and the bedrooms on the second floor. “I’m very glad to have you in this house as Mr. Quinten’s guests. That family has always had such wonderful things to say about you and Mr. Mitchell.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Barrow.” I smile genuinely for the first time since talking to Burke and Dr. Cooper this morning.
“I would have expected Mr. Quinten to have thrown a party for you coming back, the way he’s always talked about you.” Mrs. Barrow grins at me over her shoulder as she mounts the stairs. “But I suppose he subdued himself for Miss Catherine’s sake.” Her tone takes on a dry note as she speaks of Quint’s future wife.
“I’m sure Quint is only being polite when he speaks highly of us. Ben did some kind things for William, and Quint must be a good son, you know.” I hope I sound as lighthearted as I mean. That Quint has talked about me makes my stomach hurt, but also makes butterflies dance through it.