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Authors: Charlotte Louise Dolan
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am sure you will come up with just the thing.”
“Mutton will be fine,” Verity said despondently, even while she allowed her sister to push her in the direction of the back stairs, “since it is highly unlikely that Lord Sherington will ever set foot in this house again.”
“Well, of course he will come back. He accepted, did he not? Did you not hear him say he was most pleased by our kind invitation? Oh, Ralph, do you suppose you can persuade him to take his seat in the House of Lords? What a feather in your cap that would be. Helping your nephews’ careers is all very well and good, but you must not neglect your own.” Taking her husband’s arm, she drew him up the stairs, and Verity could hear them discussing the possible ramifications of this evening’s visit until they were out of earshot.
Left alone, Verity realized it did not matter how many family members her sister collected. As she had tried unsuccessfully to point out to Petronella, Lord Sherington had doubtless accepted the invitation only as a convenient way of removing himself from their company with a minimum of fuss and bother. After all, if he had declined, Petronella and Ralph would doubtless have been most persistent in their attempts to persuade him.
But once having made good his escape from such a household, there was no chance Lord Sherington would voluntarily return. More than likely, he would simply send a polite note around with one of his footmen, saying that something unexpected had come up.
And if any of them tried to make use of the acquaintanceship, as slight as it was, doubtless he would end the matter ruthlessly by giving them the cut direct.
Descending to the kitchens, Verity realized she already missed his lordship so terribly that it seemed almost as if her life, as dismal and boring as it had been in the past, was now well and truly unendurable.
No one she met in the future could possibly begin to compare with Lord Sherington. Her only regret was that she had so very few memories of him, which must of necessity suffice for the rest of her days upon this earth.
One advantage of expecting such exalted company for dinner was that Ralph had ordered the fire built up in the drawing room, and for the first time during any of the Januaries that Verity had lived in her brother-in-law’s house, she was warm enough that her arms were not covered with gooseflesh.
She was not, however, especially comfortable standing there waiting for the others to join her. Since Lord Sherington had not sent a note around canceling the engagement, Verity was one minute trembling with excitement thinking that he might actually appear, and the next minute falling into total despair, convinced that she would never see him again.
When Otterwall announced Lord Sherington, Verity could still not quite believe that her traveling companion had truly returned, not even when he crossed to where she was standing and bowed politely.
“May I say that I am indeed delighted to see that the journey today has not unduly fatigued you,” he said. “I was half expecting to be told that you were lying down in your room, prostrate with exhaustion.”
His words were in all ways correct, but again Verity had the feeling that he had some ulterior motive behind his polished manners. Without stopping to think, she blurted out, “Why have you come here, my lord?” Then realizing how rude she had just been, she hurried to explain, “I mean, I know that my sister invited you to dine with us, but I cannot understand why you accepted.”
“Should I have declined? Is your cook notorious for producing inedible dinners? Does your brother-in-law keep an inferior cellar?” His eyes narrowed. “Or is it perhaps that my reputation has proceeded me, and I am no longer welcome now that you know my full identity?”
Without any roundaboutation, Verity looked him straight in the eye and said, “You told me yourself that if you had relatives like mine, you would avoid them
“Mutton will be fine,” Verity said despondently, even while she allowed her sister to push her in the direction of the back stairs, “since it is highly unlikely that Lord Sherington will ever set foot in this house again.”
“Well, of course he will come back. He accepted, did he not? Did you not hear him say he was most pleased by our kind invitation? Oh, Ralph, do you suppose you can persuade him to take his seat in the House of Lords? What a feather in your cap that would be. Helping your nephews’ careers is all very well and good, but you must not neglect your own.” Taking her husband’s arm, she drew him up the stairs, and Verity could hear them discussing the possible ramifications of this evening’s visit until they were out of earshot.
Left alone, Verity realized it did not matter how many family members her sister collected. As she had tried unsuccessfully to point out to Petronella, Lord Sherington had doubtless accepted the invitation only as a convenient way of removing himself from their company with a minimum of fuss and bother. After all, if he had declined, Petronella and Ralph would doubtless have been most persistent in their attempts to persuade him.
But once having made good his escape from such a household, there was no chance Lord Sherington would voluntarily return. More than likely, he would simply send a polite note around with one of his footmen, saying that something unexpected had come up.
And if any of them tried to make use of the acquaintanceship, as slight as it was, doubtless he would end the matter ruthlessly by giving them the cut direct.
Descending to the kitchens, Verity realized she already missed his lordship so terribly that it seemed almost as if her life, as dismal and boring as it had been in the past, was now well and truly unendurable.
No one she met in the future could possibly begin to compare with Lord Sherington. Her only regret was that she had so very few memories of him, which must of necessity suffice for the rest of her days upon this earth.
One advantage of expecting such exalted company for dinner was that Ralph had ordered the fire built up in the drawing room, and for the first time during any of the Januaries that Verity had lived in her brother-in-law’s house, she was warm enough that her arms were not covered with gooseflesh.
She was not, however, especially comfortable standing there waiting for the others to join her. Since Lord Sherington had not sent a note around canceling the engagement, Verity was one minute trembling with excitement thinking that he might actually appear, and the next minute falling into total despair, convinced that she would never see him again.
When Otterwall announced Lord Sherington, Verity could still not quite believe that her traveling companion had truly returned, not even when he crossed to where she was standing and bowed politely.
“May I say that I am indeed delighted to see that the journey today has not unduly fatigued you,” he said. “I was half expecting to be told that you were lying down in your room, prostrate with exhaustion.”
His words were in all ways correct, but again Verity had the feeling that he had some ulterior motive behind his polished manners. Without stopping to think, she blurted out, “Why have you come here, my lord?” Then realizing how rude she had just been, she hurried to explain, “I mean, I know that my sister invited you to dine with us, but I cannot understand why you accepted.”
“Should I have declined? Is your cook notorious for producing inedible dinners? Does your brother-in-law keep an inferior cellar?” His eyes narrowed. “Or is it perhaps that my reputation has proceeded me, and I am no longer welcome now that you know my full identity?”
Without any roundaboutation, Verity looked him straight in the eye and said, “You told me yourself that if you had relatives like mine, you would avoid them
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