Read Online Her Ladyship's Companion by Joanna Bourne - Free Book Online

four or five centuries—at the height of a great headland. There were those who pointed out that its original site had been chosen less for aesthetic reasons than for a clear sight of ships breaking up on the Shark’s Jaw, the ragged rocks that scraped the water deceptively at the horizon and accounted for the ancient foundation of Tarsin wealth. The Tarsins always replied, tongue in cheek, that their ancestors had built there for the view. Considering the strength of the sullen fortress that occupied the heights, there had always been few who cared to argue with them.
    The original ugly stone pile had been wholly replaced in Elizabeth’s time by a long brick building, paid for, some said, by booty from the Spaniards. Ralph Tarsin, setting up as a respectable gentleman, had preferred to claim that his fortune arose from “clipping the backs of sheep.” That was one way of putting it.
    The new north wing had not been added until a more civilized generation of Tarsins, listening to the complaints of their guests and the occasional bewildered and freezing Tarsin bride, decided that there was something to be said for snug little rooms that would need less than a score of candles to dispel the gloom and would have fireplaces that were not necessarily suitable for the preparation of entire oxen. The Tudor wing had rapidly emptied. Not even the servants could be induced to crouch in picturesque cubbyhole attics or descend into the great cavelike basement, inexplicably preferring the air and light of their mundane quarters on the ground floor of the new section.
    As the candles were being lit, footmen decorously closed out the ocean and the twilight from the crowded glittering room. The mirrors glowed more brilliantly than ever, catching the light of a sapphire bracelet here and a diamond parure there.
    Anna and her partner danced into sight. Melissa sighed. At least for the duration of the party there was no trouble the girl could get into.
    “I see Anna has condescended to dance with the Bellingham boy,” Mrs. Armitage remarked.
    “I spoke to her about it beforehand, of course. She may yet acquire manners,” the dowager said, but not with confidence.
    Lady Dorothy had chosen the Mirror Salon for her party, she’d told Melissa the day before, because “when your partner gets too tedious, you can always look over his shoulder at your own reflection. People like to look at themselves.” To her annoyance, Melissa found herself scanning the room and noticing dancer after dancer doing just that.
    Anna, for instance, all too obviously had her attention riveted on her own pale blue image. She’d been ordered at last into pretty azure sarcenet with the bodice cut gently en coeur and plunging no farther than would interest a young man without turning his mother pale with apprehension. Perhaps, Melissa conceded as she watched, Anna was merely checking that everything was firmly anchored aloft.
    Mrs. Armitage was also watching her. The quizzing glass was busy.
    “Anna also seems to have acquired bosoms since I last met her,” she commented mildly.
    Melissa gulped and raised a hand to cover her twitching mouth.
    “From your gloating, Lavinia, I can only assume Anna has done something more than usually asinine. Drat these eyes of mine anyway. What is it this time, Miss Rivenwood?”
    Melissa choked, trying to conceal her laughter.
    Lady Dorothy poked her furled fan into Melissa’s ribs. “Stop screwing up your face, Miss Rivenwood. You’ll get wrinkles. Tell me what Lavinia is croaking about. What is my infinitely annoying niece up to this time?”
    “I’m very much afraid Anna has taken the opportunity to ... ah ... improve on the bounty of nature a bit. She’s stuffed something into the bodice of her dress since we last saw her. Two somethings. Probably handkerchiefs. That’s what the girls at school used. Though you can buy—”
     “I’m well aware of the versatility of the London market, Miss Rivenwood.”
    “But I