Read Online Mist of Midnight by Sandra Byrd - Free Book Online Page B

shook her head. “With Mademoiselle Ravenshaw. Perhaps the maid, too. He seems quite appreciative of ladies, and they of him, which is perhaps why there is no Mrs. Whitfield. No one he’s been willing to set others aside for. Though that’s not necessarily a requirement of a happy marriage, d’accord ?”
    â€œWhat? But of course it is,” I said. She tsk-tsked me in that characteristically French manner but said nothing further and indicated I should stand as she adjusted my dress front and back.
    I thought about Captain Whitfield and his pull on me. I should have been more resistant to his charms than almost anyone, as he had, for the moment, appropriated my house and doubted my integrity. Was he capable of harming someone, her, me, to keep the house? Had he planned it that way, or was he as he seemed, a gentlemanly victim of circumstance, much like myself ? If she had indeed been murdered, perhaps someone else had done it. Who else had motive? I should seek to find out. Cautiously.
    I strengthened my resolve to remain focused on the visitor at hand. It made me quite jumpy. Would she like me? Could she become, I hoped, a friend?
    â€œTell me about Miss Dainley,” I said. “What should I expect?”
    â€œShe’s a mild young woman, at least on the outside. Sweet, like the cherries. But with a hard stone inside, non ?” She pulled the top layer of the skirt of my dress up to one hip and hooked it there with a hidden clasp. Then she made certain that the buttons on the bodice of my dress were tightly closed and straight from neck to waist. “I understand she is to leave for India soon.”
    â€œIndeed! Perhaps this is why she wanted to meet with me.” I could be useful!
    â€œCertainly, this is true. She may wish to forgo her departure, if at all possible.” She ran a finger over the fur ruffs on my three-quarter sleeves. I looked at them and smiled; they were so beautiful. She caught my glance and looked satisfied. “She sails with the ‘fishing fleet’ early in the autumn. Unless she can catch the big fish in England first.”
    â€œYou said she was not afraid of a Hussar.” I asked tentatively, “Would you be?”
    Michelene smiled. “I would not be, certainement . It’s been said that when the Hussars come, everyone begins running. The men away from them, and the women toward them.” She laughed. “They are handsome, yes, and commanding, but also, they have been known to pillage and loot the spoils of war without conscience if they feel it belongs to them. And they adore women.” She did not seem aware that she was nearly purring. She turned me to face the mirror. “ Voilà. My handiwork.”
    I gathered my courage and looked at my reflection straight on. “Oh!” I was utterly thrilled with the lovely image that was, shockingly, me! I could face anyone now. “You have transformedme into an English lady,” I said to Michelene, embracing her. She, being a Frenchwoman, accepted my embrace with ease.
    â€œYou already are an English lady,” she said. “You simply needed a French touch.”
    A knock came at the door. It was Landreth. “Miss Delia Dainley has arrived. Shall I show her into the drawing room?”
    â€œThank you, Landreth. I shall be down directly.”
    â€œ Bon courage ,”Michelene whispered as she nudged me toward the door.
    Mrs. Ross had assured me that, as there would be no gentlemen present, I was free to receive Miss Dainley on my own. Landreth showed me in.
    â€œMiss Delia Dainley, may I present Miss Rebecca Ravenshaw? Miss Ravenshaw, I give you Miss Dainley.” He thoughtfully withdrew.
    I instantly recognized her—even without the riding habit. She was the woman who had been riding with Captain Whitfield. “Miss Dainley, I’m so very pleased you have come to call and take tea with me.”
    Miss Dainley smiled and offered her gloved