Read Online A Scandalous Publication by Sandra Heath - Free Book Online Page B

good likeness.
    Admiral Henry Parkstone was a tall, personable gentleman of military bearing. His brown hair had not receded or even faded, and his face was that of a man much younger than his sixty or so years. He dressed plainly but fashionably, and he walked with the aid of a stick, having been wounded in the leg at the battle of Trafalgar. There was something very agreeable about his smile, and Charlotte took to him as easily as she had to his daughter.
    Sylvia poured the tea from an exquisite Sevres porcelain teapot, and the admiral settled himself comfortably, leaning his walking stick against the sofa. “Tell me, Miss Wyndham, are you by any chance one of the Wyndhams of Kimber Park?”
    “Yes, at least we were of Kimber Park. Mr. George Wyndham was my father.”
    “Ah, yes, a very sad loss indeed. Such a terrible accident.”
    Sylvia abruptly put the teapot down. “Accident?”
    Her father looked warningly at her. “Sylvia, this is neither the time nor the place —”
    “Maybe it isn’t, but I cannot sit meekly by accepting your description of Mr. Wyndham’s death as an accident.”
    The admiral was appalled at such an indiscreet statement. “Sylvia, that’s quite enough! Your private views must be kept private, and certainly should not be aired in front of Miss Wyndham.”
    “Miss Wyndham already knows what I think.”
    “Which can only mean that you wasted no time at all in telling her. I’m quite ashamed of you, my girl, and I think that you should apologize to her immediately for causing her unnecessary distress.”
    Charlotte was embarrassed. “Oh, please, there’s no need.”
    He looked apologetically at her. “You’re being too kind, Miss Wyndham. I’m afraid that Sylvia is quite unreasonable where my son-in-law is concerned.”
    Sylvia flushed then. “He isn’t your son-in-law,” she said stiffly.
    “He was married to Anne, and as far as I’m concerned, that makes him my son-in-law.”
    She pointed at the portrait above the fireplace. “Anne would be with us now if it wasn’t for Max Talgarth, and she’d still be the happy, laughing person we once loved so much.”
    Charlotte stared at the portrait. So that was why it wasn’t a good likeness; it was a picture of Anne Talgarth, not Sylvia.
    The admiral took a long, patient breath. “Sylvia, I’ve had quite enough of all this. I forbid you to say anything more on the subject, is that quite clear?”
    Sylvia looked rebellious for a moment but then lowered her glance. “Yes, Father.”
    “I suppose I’ve this duel with Lord Westington to thank for your renewed enthusiasm for blackening Max’s character?”
    “The duel merely proves that I was right about him all along.”
    “Does it? Come now, Sylvia, you no more believe Georgiana Westington’s tale than I do; you’re simply saying you do because it suits you. She’s one of the most immoral and conniving women in London, and has invented the whole story out of spite. What her foolish nonentity of a husband chooses to believe is his business, but I know that I believe Max’s side of it.”
    Sylvia said nothing more, but the defiant set of her chin showed only too clearly that she did not accept her father’s point of view.
    The admiral turned to Charlotte. “You must forgive us, Miss Wyndham, for we are very wrong to foist our family disagreements upon you like this.”
    “Please don’t apologize, sir, for there isn’t any need.”
    “But there is, my dear, there is. However, let us talk of something more agreeable —our summer ball in July perhaps? I do hope that you will be able to attend, or will you still be in mourning then?”
    “July? No, we will not be wearing black then, sir.”
    “We?”
    “My mother and I.”
    “The invitation will naturally extend to include your mother as well.”
    “Thank you.”
    “We like to pride ourselves on our summer balls. They are considered to be quite important social occasions.”
    “I know, sir, although I’ve never