The Sherbrooke Bride - Catherine Coulter [91]
Melissande dropped her scone and smiled brilliantly at her husband, leaning toward him, her eyes sparkling. “Do you really like them, Tony? Truly? It is difficult, you know, what with the ever-changing light, particularly near the maple copse. Shall I try to paint the peacocks that everyone wishes to watch?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking at her thoughtfully. “Perhaps you can begin by painting the mare I shall buy you. Not a white mare, please, Mellie, perhaps a bay with white stockings. I don’t wish you to be trite.”
“Trite! I am never—what precisely do you mean?”
“I mean that you would lack originality. You would be humdrum, run-of-the-mill.”
Melissande frowned over this, then gave her husband a very beautiful smile. “Well then, my lord. You shall select a mare for me that is original.”
“Yes, I shall. You will contrive to trust me in the future to always do what is best for you.”
Melissande nodded slowly.
Sinjun shot Alexandra a wicked look.
The Dowager Countess of Northcliffe said in a very carrying voice to Aunt Mildred, “After breakfast, I wish to speak to you about Lady Juliette’s arrival. We must have a small soirée for her, don’t you think? Her importance calls for recognition and now that Douglas isn’t here to wed her, why then—”
Oh dear, Alexandra thought, staring at Douglas, who looked now ready to spit on his fond mother. She forestalled him, saying quickly, “I should like to meet all the neighbors as well. A party for this Juliette would be just the thing, I think, for all of us to get acquainted.”
“The party will be to introduce my wife,” Douglas said, his voice as stern and cold as a judge’s. “Lady Juliette, as our guest for as few a number of days as we can politely manage, will naturally be invited. Under no circumstance, Mother, will you intimate that it is a gathering in her honor. Do you understand me?”
“The peacocks have folded their tails,” said the Dowager Countess of Northcliffe, and rose from the table. Her departure from the breakfast room was majestic.
Tony very nearly choked on his coffee.
Lady Juliette arrived not an hour later, just ten minutes before they would have escaped to Branderleigh Farm.
Sinjun moaned behind Alexandra. Alexandra would have moaned but she was older and a wife and so she straightened her back and drew a deep breath.
“The broom handle is back, I see,” Douglas said, as he came to stand beside her at the top of the wide stairs that led to the gravel drive in front of Northcliffe Hall.
“What are you talking about?”
He waved a hand in dismissal and stared at the young woman who was being gently assisted from the ducal carriage by a footman in yellow and white livery. Another footman placed the steps beneath her dainty feet. A sour-faced maid followed her from the carriage, hugging a huge jewelry box to her meager bosom.
“Lady Juliette, daughter of the Marquess of Dacre,” the footman called out.
“Do we curtsy?” Sinjun said behind her teeth. “Perhaps request a boon?”
“Be quiet,” said Douglas.
The dowager countess was fulsome in her welcome. It was soon apparent that Lady Juliette was not only immensely beautiful, she was also immensely filled with her own importance. She also looked immensely pleased to be at Northcliffe Hall, until she saw Melissande. She was staring at the unexpected and unwelcome vision as the dowager was saying, “And, my dear Juliette, our Douglas here has gotten himself wedded. Such a surprise, but you will understand that—”
Lady Juliette stared blank-faced at the dowager. “He has married? Without seeing me?”
“Yes,” said the dowager.
Lady Juliette wanted to leave immediately. She felt humiliated. The wretched earl had married, without even seeing her, Juliette, the most beautiful young lady in three counties. She was closer now to Melissande and her vision was at its sharpest. She went perfectly still. In a spate of inner honesty, Juliette had to admit that this Melissande, the earl’s new wife,