Duainfey Read Free Page A

gloves and whip on the flower shelf, he strode to the card table.
    "Hallo, Becca, old love! I'd made certain you were in the wild garden this day."
    She smiled up into her brother's brilliant grin.
    "Hello, Dickon," she said in her matter-of-fact way. "Mother had need of me here."
    "Oh, aye," he said, picking Sir Jennet's card up and running his eye down the lines.
    "Not very loverlike," he remarked lightly, and Rebecca felt herself flush.
    "I thought to add something," she said, softly. "But, truly, Dickon, I hardly knew what. Ought I have written that I looked forward to his attending?"
    "Only if you meant it," her brother said, putting the card with the rest. His gaze moved to her face, his own serious.
    "Father should be flogged," he murmured, too softly for Caroline or Mother to hear. "You deserve better than an old roué with gambling debts and a rotting estate to put right."
    This was not the first time Dickon had made his displeasure with her upcoming nuptials known. It warmed her that he cared so much for her comfort, while at the same time making her a trifle impatient. Surely he knew that no one else would have her.
    She looked down, and drew the next card to her.
    "Father is pleased to have found anyone to take me," she said patiently. "And now Caroline will be free to marry well." She raised her head and met his eyes once more. "Truly, Dickon, I am content."
    "You are always content of late," he answered, his voice louder this time.
    "Indeed," Mother said from her desk. "Rebecca is an example to us all, and she will make Sir Jennet a fine wife. Good afternoon, Dickon."
    Rebecca saw her brother's eyes close, his shoulders rising and falling with a silent sigh, then he had turned away from her, and was striding across to the room.
    "Good afternoon, Mother," he said dutifully and bent down to kiss her cheek. "Father sent me to tell you that his business with Mr. Snelling is proceeding well and that they will dine together. Pray do not wait the evening meal for him."
    There was a pause, long enough that Rebecca raised her head to glance down-room. Her mother's shoulders seemed to droop—then straightened as she looked up at her tall son.
    "Thank you, Dickon. Will you be with us?"
    "Yes, of course, darling," he said warmly. "My business this afternoon is Gately and the accounts books, and my reward for tending it shall be an intimate meal with my lovely mother and beautiful sisters."
    Their mother smiled, obviously pleased, though what she said was, "Piffle. You, sir, are a sad scamp."
    Dickon bowed solemnly, and Rebecca bit her lip so as not to laugh. Their mother looked to her youngest, bent industriously over the escritoire.
    "Caroline, pray tell Cook that we will be four at dinner. In the small dining room."
    "Can't Rebecca go?" her sister asked, petulantly. "I'm writing."
    "But I asked you, my love," Mother answered, in the tone that meant she would not be brooked.
    Sighing loudly, Caroline dropped her pen, spattering ink over her portion of the list, rose, and flounced toward the door.
    "Doesn't a brother get a welcome, Lady Caro?" Dickon called, placing his hand over his heart.
    Caroline barely spared him a glance.
    "Good afternoon, Dickon," she said coolly. "You are quite ridiculous." She was gone in a swirl of skirts.
     
    Dinner in the small dining room was more boisterous than those taken in the formal room, with their father presiding. Mother was in good spirits, which she usually was when they dined alone, once she had finished enumerating the number of times during the month that Father had dined away. Caroline seemed somewhat cast down, though why she should be so was more than Rebecca could fathom. While the beauty of the family was certainly Father's favorite, Rebecca had long suspected that Caro did not find his company enjoyable. And as for herself—unfilial it might be, but she would be quite happy if Father dined away every evening.
    Lady Quince, so Mother had heard from Mrs. Settle only this