Henrietta Read Free Page B

in the after life because you will be burning in hell.”
    Gathering up her reticule, fan and Norfolk shawl, Henrietta wondered for the hundredth time how there could be so little love between a brother and sister.
    Their father, Sir James Sandford, had died after an accident on the hunting field; and their mother, Isabella, had died giving birth to Henrietta, a fact that her elder brother never let her forget. Since he did not mean to get married, Henry Sandford had long ago found out that Henrietta adequately accomplished the duties which were usually assigned to the vicar’s wife. With the exception of the aforementioned squire, he had discouraged all possible suitors and denied Henrietta a Season in London.
    Henrietta assumed that they must have been left a comfortable income. The vicar’s clothes were so expensive and so dandified that several people in the town were apt to remark that his dress was unsuited to his calling. He had an excellent hardworking curate in an elderly man called John Symes who fulfilled most of the vicar’s ecclesiastical duties, leaving Henry free to toady to the Beldings.
    There had been Beldings in Nethercote since the Norman Conquest Theirs was an ancient, if undistinguished, line, the ancestral Beldings having had a deft habit of changing their politics and religion to suit the current ruler. The present family followed in the pattern of their forebears, having a great deal of money, incredible arrogance and very little else worthy of comment.
    When they arrived at Belding Court, Henrietta pasted a fixed social smile on her face and prepared to sit out the evening as she had done many times before. Alice Belding was wearing a slim white high-waisted dress which set off her blonde beauty to perfection. She was as fair as Henrietta but there the similarity ended. Where Henrietta was plump, Alice was slender, where Henrietta’s face was round and placid, Alice’s sparkled with animation, all wide blue eyes and dimples.
    “You are looking very fine, Henrietta,” remarked Alice. “Although perhaps your hairstyle is a little bit too young for you. Turbans are quite suitable for a girl of your age, you know. I shall call on you tomorrow and we shall have a comfortable coze and I will tell you all about my admirers. I am sure it will be just like having them yourself. We are such dear friends.” She smiled brilliantly at the vicar who complimented her fulsomely on her appearance and then drew his infuriating sister aside.
    “Why didn’t you reply when she said you were ‘such dear friends,’” he hissed, holding her above the elbow in a painful grip. “Such condecension!”
    “Sorry, Henry,” said Henrietta quietly, smiling warmly at Alice Belding while her inner voice said caustically, “I wish, just once, that some man would see her for what she is…an empty-headed, cruel, vicious little.…”
    “Look!” exclaimed the vicar. “Beau Reckford has arrived.”
    Henrietta looked across the room with interest. Her first emotion was one of surprise. Surely no one could consider the Beau handsome. His harsh aquiline features and light tawny eyes gave him a look of a bird of prey. He was very tall, well over six feet and impeccably dressed in black evening coat and knee breeches. His snowy cravat was tied in the Waterfall and he wore his black hair unpowdered. Then he smiled down at his hostess and his whole face was transformed. No woman could resist that smile, thought Henrietta, feeling a painful lurch inside her. Lady Belding was positively fluttering, the end of her high patrician nose turning absolutely pink with delight Alice was radiant She fluttered her long eyelashes demurely behind her fan. Feeling suddenly old and chubby, Henrietta trailed off miserably to take her usual place with the chaperones.
    Lord Reckford led Alice out for the first dance and Henrietta stared down at her slippers and tried not to look. This is ridiculous, she chided herself. One just does not fall