A Proper Companion Read Free Page B

to
maintain a civil tongue when discussing my betrothed. Oh, I know
what you think of Lady Windhurst, but, after all, she's not the one
I'm going to marry. Augusta is cut from a different cloth
altogether. She will make a fine countess." He squeezed her hand.
"I had hoped for your blessing," he crooned in his most seductive
tone.
    The dowager jerked her hand from his clasp. "Do not
go trying to turn me up sweet. You cannot wrap me around your
finger like all your other women. You have my blessing. But I give
it grudgingly and only because I do not see that I have a choice. I
am not happy with this arrangement, Robert. In the first place, I
still strongly object to having Lady Windhurst thrust into our
family circle. The woman is not to be tolerated. Secondly, I take
exception to this cold, calculating way in which you have
apparently chosen your bride. I suspect that you will regret your
heartless business arrangement in years to come. Have you no desire
for an affectionate, loving relationship at the center of your
life? Do you not think it is worth waiting until you find a woman
with whom you can share such a relationship?"
    "You presume too much, Grandmother," the earl said,
scowling. "I have been immune to Cupid's arrow for thirty-five
years, and it is unlikely that I will succumb at this stage in my
career. Besides, I do not have the time, or the inclination, to
wait for such a miracle."
    The dowager was halted in her reply as Emily
reentered the morning room to say that the earl's bedchamber was
ready. She absently indicated that Emily should be seated, and
continued her conversation with the earl. "All right, Robert," she
said. "I will not fight you. I wish you every happiness with your
bride. In fact," she drawled, "I intend to return with you to
London to meet this paragon. And I suppose the least I can do is to
stage a grand engagement ball in your honor."
    Lord Bradleigh rose, bowed to his grandmother, and
took her hand to his lips. "My dear countess, you do us a great
honor. You are most welcome at Bradleigh House."
    "Well, that is settled, then. Emily and I will begin
preparations at once," the dowager said. She settled back, smiling
mischievously. "I believe I will make a long stay in London.
Perhaps ride out the Season there. I haven't been to Town in an
age. It's such an ordeal, you know. But this is a special occasion.
I expect it will take us several weeks to prepare. You will stay
here with us, of course, Robert, and then escort us to London. And
now, you must be tired from your journey, and you are certainly
dirty. Emily, ring for a footman to show Robert to his rooms. We
dine at seven, my boy."

Chapter 2
     
    After the earl departed, the dowager suddenly looked
up at Emily in alarm. "Dinner!" she cried. Emily gave her a puzzled
look. "Anatole!" the dowager groaned.
    Emily laughed. "I will take care of it," she said as
she left the morning room and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
Anatole, the dowager's French chef, would have to be told of the
addition of the earl to their dinner table. Emily was one of the
few who was able to approach the volatile Frenchman with
last-minute changes without him flying up into the boughs and
threatening resignation. This evening's meal had been planned for
only six. The addition of a seventh would likely represent little
difficulty for Anatole. Nevertheless, Emily steeled herself for the
inevitable outburst.
    She made her way down to the basement and entered
the large, busy kitchen. One long wall displayed an impressive batterie de cuisine , including racks of copper pots of all
sizes, iron kettles, pewter trays and jugs, and an enormous
collection of fancifully shaped jelly molds. An adjacent wall
housed a row of several open-fire ranges, a separately fired oven,
and a large hot plate decorated with classical medallions on the
front. Though the high windows on the outside wall were propped
open, the air was close and warm. The somber blue walls added to
the oppressive