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Roxina sat back in her tufted chair and crossed her arms across her remade gown. A gesture Aubriella had learned years ago was as much a protective measure as a deterrent. “No. My brother had other plans for the holiday.”
Plans which never included Roxina, and that was why she always came with the Penfords. It was that or spend the holiday alone since her parents died when she was thirteen.
A light eater content with toast and cocoa, Aubriella eyed Jack’s overflowing plate. “Hungry this morning, Mr. Matherfield?”
“Ravenous.” He speared a sausage with his fork and grinned before taking a generous bite. He swallowed and took a sip of black coffee.
“So, what are we undertaking this morning, Aubrie?”
Jack applied himself to his breakfast with admirable gusto.
So happy and relieved he’d actually come, Aubriella didn’t scold him for addressing her so informally in front of her friends. Nor did she give Roxina and Matilda the gimlet eye for the smug smiles they exchanged.
“It’s either archery or sketching this morning.” Aubriella wrapped her palm around the still-warm cup.
He patted his mouth—such a nicely shaped mouth for a man. “I presume you’d prefer sketching?”
Her one strength.
A Corinthian, he’d opt for archery, of course.
A wry half-smile twisted her mouth upward. “As my previous attempts at archery resulted in me nearly impaling a footman and Lady Brummelstroot’s beloved poodle, your presumption is correct.”
It had taken an hour to calm Lady Brummelstroot. To this day, she glowered at Aubriella whenever their paths crossed, which, thank goodness, wasn’t often.
“Elli is truly awful at archery.” Matilda sent Aubriella an apologetic glance.
“Thank you, Tillie.” Aubriella couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm from her tone.
It was true, but Matilda needn’t expound upon Aubriella’s lack of prowess. On the other hand, Matilda could send an arrow to the center of the target with seemingly little effort.
“Dearest, you know I mean no offense.” Matilda waved at Georgine as she entered. “Excuse me, please. Georgine wanted to speak with me this morning.”
Roxina pushed her chair back and rose. Smoothing a long-fingered hand down her out-of-fashion emerald green gown, she scooted her gaze from person to person.
“I promised Mrs. Templeton I’d help with the skit preparations.” She wrinkled her pert nose. “This year, it’s about the angels visiting the shepherd in their fields.”
Cousin Mabel believed her skits quite clever.
Her guests did not share her enthusiasm.
Roxina cast an exasperated glance upward. “Pray tell me how I am to recruit a cast for that?” She pinned Jack with a direct look. “I’m sure I can count on you to play the part of a shepherd?”
“Indeed.” He flashed her one of his disarming grins. “Unless you need an archangel?”
“Hmm, I’ll consider it.” She turned her attention to Aubriella. “I’ll need you to be part of the angelic chorus.”
Oh, no.
“Zina, I don’t think—” Before Aubriella could finish refusing, Jack accepted on her behalf.
“Aubrie would love to.”
The bothersome scoundrel knows I cannot sing.
“Excellent.” After a satisfied nod, Roxina glided across the room, attracting more than one interested male’s gaze. She ignored them.
“Why did you do that?” Aubriella poked Jack’s arm and hissed, “You know I cannot sing.”
