The Bewitching Hour Read Free Page B

her eyes as she scrutinized Mary’s complexion. It was somewhat blotchy from crying, but there were no imperfections. “I don’t see any spots.”
      “I believe you must need spectacles." Mary's lower lip edged out slightly. "I counted six this morning”
      “How long will you and Aunt Collette stay in Bath?”
      “I don’t know. Mama says we’re staying until I’m better. I feel quite hideous.” She stopped, obviously waiting for her cousin to disagree.
      Priscilla pasted on a brittle smile and stared silently.
      “I’m afraid I’ve done something else very foolish,” Mary said.
      The smile disappeared.
      “I let something slip. To Bertie.”
      Priscilla shut her eyes and groaned. “Did you tell him about the letters?”
      “Of course not.” Mary looked at her as if she were completely dense. “I’m not that foolish!”
      “Forgive me,” Priscilla said in a dry tone. “I should have realized that.”
      “I told him Mama was taking me to Bath for my nerves. He didn’t understand why I’ve been so upset. I mentioned Lord Stratton’s name. I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out. I wouldn’t tell him anymore than that and he’s determined to find out what this is about. I’m afraid he’s going approach Lord Stratton and that would be perfectly awful.”
      It took a great deal of effort for Priscilla not to box her cousin's ears.
      “But I think that a month will be long enough,” Mary continued. “I can’t imagine that it should take any longer.”
      Priscilla decided to take the risk and ventured cautiously, “Longer for what? To get rid of your imaginary spots?
      “No. For pity’s sake, do listen. A month should be long enough for you to make Bertie understand he mustn’t speak to Lord Stratton. And for you to make Lord Stratton understand that he must give you the letters I wrote." Mary stopped to catch her breath. "Once that’s done, I’m certain I’ll begin to feel better and then mama and I can return. I would hate to miss the entire season and Bath has grown so stodgy and dull.”
      “And how," Priscilla said between clenched teeth, "do you propose I accomplish this?”
      Mary blinked. “I don’t know, but I’m quite sure you’ll think of something. You’re very clever.”
      Priscilla set her teacup down hard enough to slosh tea over the sides. “You’ve complicated things further by talking to Bertie. And as far as Lord Stratton is concerned, I don’t understand what I can possibly do about that. You can’t expect someone else to solve all your problems for you.”
      Mary recoiled as if she had been slapped. “Please, don’t be angry with me. I’ve made a mess of things and don’t know who else to turn to. I can’t possibly tell Mama. She would be horrified by what I’ve done.” She stopped and tried to wipe her face with her already sodden lace handkerchief. Priscilla reached into her own pocket, pulled out a sensible cotton handkerchief and handed it to her cousin.
      “You always seem to know what to do. Papa’s forever telling me I should endeavor to be more like you.” Mary drew in a ragged breath. “Please say you’ll help.”
      Priscilla let out a slow breath as she thought of her encounter with Stratton. He was an incorrigible flirt and she had no desire to come within fifty feet of him, much less ask him a favor. Yet, Mary’s continued histrionics were more than she could bear. “All right, Mary, I’ll try to figure something out, but I won’t make any promises. And you must eat something. You’re beginning to look like a scarecrow.”
      Mary smiled with trembling lips. “I knew you would help me, Priscilla. You always do.” She smoothed out her skirts, picked up a sandwich and took a bite. “Could I have the strawberry preserves, please?”

Chapter Two

    S tratton