Sandra Heath Read Free Page B

farmer’s cob to carry her back to the abbey, but she knew it might have been much more serious.
    Charlotte sipped the champagne and decided to say nothing more about Henrietta’s mishaps. She looked at the crowded floor. “Well, all the local guests will disperse to their homes at dawn, and everyone who’s been staying here since Christmas will depart at various times tomorrow, then there will just be you right up until February, and I’m so looking forward to that! Oh, how I wish you weren’t to be your cousin’s chief bridesmaid; otherwise you could stay even longer!” Her smile of anticipation faded then. “Oh, sweet Amabel will be here as well, of course, but with luck she will not join us all the time.”
    Henrietta could no longer let it pass. “Dear Amabel, sweet Amabel. Oh, how I regret bringing her. It was clearly very foolish to imagine you two could make friends at last.”
     “Where Amabel Lyons—I mean Renchester—is concerned, old school enemies remain old school enemies. But your motives were laudable, Henrietta, and I do not blame you.” Charlotte gave her a sideways grin. “On reflection, yes I do.”
    “Don’t be beastly.”
    “I’m sorry, but you do rise to the bait.”
    Henrietta suddenly noticed Russell’s distinguished gray-haired figure only ten yards away at the edge of the dance floor. He was standing on tiptoe to scan the sea of dancers, and it was clear he was searching for his wife. Henrietta put a finger to her lips and as one, she and Charlotte leaned back on the sofa, so the flanking ferns hid their faces from view should he glance their way.
    By now, the two spectral interlopers had noticed Henrietta, and knew from her startling likeness to Jane that she had to be a Courtenay. Having already determined the uninspiring selection of unattached Fitzpaines, and the apparent absence of any unattached Courtenays at all, they hastened over to examine her more closely. Unobserved and undetected by either young woman, they took up positions behind the sofa. The discovery that she wore a betrothal ring did not deter them, for of all people, they knew that such things could be set aside!
    Henrietta and Charlotte continued to watch poor Russell through the fronds of green, and as he at last moved away toward the supper room, they sat forward again. Charlotte took a relieved sip of champagne. “Take my advice, Henrietta, don’t marry an overprotective man.”
    “I doubt if my future husband will ever be accused of that,” Henrietta replied, looking down at her ring.
    Charlotte was immediately remorseful. “Forgive me, I spoke without thinking.”
    “What is there to forgive? I don’t pretend that my match is anything other than a marriage of convenience.”
    “Convenience? For the sole heiress to the Courtenay fortune? I doubt it. For strutting, financially straitened Lord Sutherton? Yes, definitely!” Charlotte was scathing.
    The eavesdropping shades exchanged startled glances, for the gentleman Jane had forsaken for Kit in 1714 had been none other than the then Lord Sutherton! Jane leaned forward to inspect the emerald betrothal ring again. What a deplorably showy bauble it was, she thought disparagingly. It had to be Lord Sutherton’s choice, for the phantom instinctively knew that Henrietta would have selected sapphires, or possibly amethysts, to go with her eyes. Jane decided there and then that Henrietta was ideal for guiding toward another. But who? The ghost sighed as she mulled over the woeful selection of Fitzpaines present tonight. What Henrietta needed was another Kit! Oh, yes, that would be perfect, for how could such a combination fail to end in marriage?
    “We have found our prospective bride, don’t you think?” Kit whispered suddenly.
    “I agree. However, given the collection of Fitzpaines we’ve observed thus far, I doubt if there is a prospective groom,” she whispered back, even though she was as certain as he that no one could hear them. It was only