Part 3 (2/2)

”How do you do, Ms. Shepherd?” he said, so softly I almost didn't hear him.

”Very well, thank you,” I replied. His handshake was as gentle as his voice. ”But I'll do much better if you call me Lori.”

I caught a flash of midnight blue as his eyes met mine, but he quickly lowered them again when the earl spoke.

”Allow me to present Lady Landover, my brother Thomas's only child.” The earl beckoned to the young woman, who got to her feet and strolled over to join us. ”Claudia's husband is unable to be with us this week, which is just as well. I detest an odd number at dinner.”

Claudia Landover emitted a shrill laugh. ”What an awful thing to say, Uncle. Married women miss their husbands dreadfully when they're away, don't we, Lori?”

”Yes,” I replied, a shade dishonestly. Bill was away so often that there were times when I hardly realized he was gone. I was, however, keenly aware of the fact that neither he nor the mysterious Gina was present in the drawing room.

Claudia drew me over to sit on the settee, Derek and Oliver retreated to the alcove, and the earl and Simon took Emma to the French doors to look out.

”You're not wearing makeup!” Claudia exclaimed. She had a voice like a Klaxon. ”How extraordinary!”

Her comment brought a rush of color to my face that would have rendered blusher redundant.

”I don't care for makeup,” I said shortly. ”I find it uncomfortable.”

”Uncomfortable?” Claudia's Elstyn-blue eyes registered incomprehension.

”It limits my range of motion,” I explained. ”I like to be able to rub my nose without worrying about smearing my fingers with paint.”

”I'll admit it's inconvenient at times,” Claudia allowed, ”but I've always thought it a form of politeness to make the best of oneself when appearing in public.”

I didn't think Claudia was being catty. I didn't think she was intelligent enough to be catty, and if I hadn't been feeling peevish about Bill's absence, I would have let her off the hook and changed the subject. But my bad temper got the better of me, and before I could stop myself I let her have it with both barrels.

”I've always thought it more polite to tell the truth,” I said.

Claudia leaned back. ”I beg your pardon?”

”Makeup's a lie,” I snapped. ”It's a way of saying, 'I'm younger, older, paler, rosier than I really am.'” I stared pointedly at her bleached crew cut. ”The same goes for hair coloring, which I also don't use, because, as with most lies, once you start telling it, the harder it is to stop. I prefer not to start.”

”Bravo, Lori.” Unbeknownst to me, Simon had left Emma with the earl and crossed to stand close enough to overhear the whole ridiculous tirade. ”Makeup's inconvenient for men as well. One kiss and we're marked for life.” His gaze lingered on my lips. ”I'm delighted to hear that you don't wear it.”

”I think you're both quite mad,” Claudia declared.

The drawing room door opened and Bill appeared, dressed in his flawless dinner jacket, with a slim, dark-haired woman on his arm. She was wearing a beautifully cut black gown with long sleeves and a modest decolletage. If Bill's jaw dropped when he saw me, I didn't notice. I had eyes only for his companion.

”Gina!” Claudia called. ”What would you say about a woman who refuses to wear makeup?”

”I'd say she's either very beautiful”-Gina's voice was distressingly low and musical-”or very foolish.”

”I know how I'd cast my vote,” Simon murmured from the corner of his mouth.

After introducing Gina and me to each other, the earl announced, ”The party is complete, or nearly so. Oliver, take Emma in to dinner.”

Simon bent low to address me. ”Would you do me the honor, madam?”

I glanced once at Bill, stood, and took Simon's arm, saying grimly, ”You bet.”

Derek paired up with Claudia, and the earl led the procession into the entrance hall, where he paused to gaze up the marble staircase.

The rest of us paused, too, and were rewarded with an unforgettable sight.

The Honorable Eleanor Harris had arrived.

Six.

Nell Harris had always been unforgettable. Some said her mother's early death and Derek's years of grief had shaped her character, but Dimity, who'd known Nell as a child, disagreed.

Nell would have been exactly who she is, no matter what the circ.u.mstances, she'd once told me. Nell is an old soul. She was born knowing more than you or I will ever learn.

Dimity's words came back to me as I beheld Nell on the staircase. She was breathtaking-tall and willowy and as ethereally beautiful as a fairy queen, with an aureole of golden curls to serve as her crown.

The gown she wore was from another age, ivory silk falling in tiny pleats from a high-waisted bodice embroidered with seed pearls and trimmed with the merest whisper of lace. She'd threaded a pale blue satin ribbon through her curls but wore no jewelry. She needed none. Her hair shone like liquid gold and her blue eyes would have put the finest sapphires to shame.

Nell surveyed us with the grace and self-possession of a woman who would one day rule the world. It was hard to believe she'd not yet reached her seventeenth birthday.

”Good evening,” she said.

”Good evening,” we chorused, a herd of serfs rendered pliant by her majesty.

Ivory satin slippers peeped from beneath her hem as she descended the staircase. ”I apologize for my tardiness. Bertie was unwell.”

Bertie was the chocolate-brown teddy bear who accompanied Nell everywhere. Nell's affection for her bear tempted fools to underestimate her, but they soon learned-usually the hard way-that Nell's myriad eccentricities concealed a formidable intelligence.

”Bertie was frightened by the fire,” Nell continued. ”Have you discovered who set it?”

”The fire wasn't set deliberately, Nell,” said Derek. ”The blacksmith was soldering-”

”It was an accident,” Lord Elstyn interrupted. ”Tell Bertie there's nothing to worry about.”

”Isn't there?” Nell gazed intently at Simon, nodded to me and Bill, then moved forward to embrace her father and stepmother, murmuring, ”Mama, Papa, I'm so glad you're here.”

”Yes,” the earl said gruffly. ”We're all pleased that you've come, my boy. It's been far too long since we've dined together as a family.”

Derek stared at his father, clearly at a loss for words, but Nell saved him the trouble of responding.

Her hand came to rest on the earl's arm as lightly as a tuft of down. ”Shall we go in?”

The dining room could have been plastered with peanut b.u.t.ter and I wouldn't have noticed. I was too busy stealing glances at my husband.

Bill and I were seated as far away from each other as it was possible to be, on opposite ends and sides of the enormous mahogany table. Gina sat beside him. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, chatting and laughing with the familiarity of old friends. Their chummy behavior put to rest any doubts I had about the length of their acquaintance.

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