What mood would Lord Withinghall be in? He’d seemed almost friendly after he had proposed marriage to her and she had rejected him, especially the day she had met him in the library and convinced him to read Sense and Sensibility. She often thought with surprise of his enjoyment of the book. Was he still contemplating the plot and the characters?
Well, his future wife would be arriving soon, possibly in time for dinner. Leorah half smiled, half frowned at her reflection to think of his proposal just a few weeks prior. What would Augusta Norbury think of that? Perhaps Leorah should assure Lord Withinghall that she had no intentions of ever letting Miss Norbury know of his proposal. And she had sworn her friends to secrecy as well. Perhaps that would set his mood to rights and ensure he would have an enjoyable time.
She heard rushing feet and hushed voices in the corridor outside her bedchamber. A minute later, one of the maids stuck her head in and informed them that Mrs. Culpepper and Miss Norbury had just arrived.
Her quiet reverie was now at a definite end. She’d be subjected to Miss Norbury’s and Mrs. Culpepper’s sour expressions and superior arrogance every day for the next month at least.
Nevertheless, Leorah knew her duty, and she went down to greet them.
Leorah entered the drawing room and found her mother and Julia sitting with their two new guests, taking tea. Leorah uttered the usual pleasantries, while Miss Norbury and Mrs. Culpepper answered in kind, although without the barest hint of a smile from either of them and no warmth in their voices at all.
Not a hair was out of place on either of their heads, and though they had been traveling all day, nothing seemed to show it except perhaps for the saggy circles under Mrs. Culpepper’s gray eyes.
Miss Norbury’s hair was a golden blond, so pale and lustrous that it was like the hair of a young child, with small golden curls plastered against her temples and beside her ears in perfect symmetry. Her eyes were pale blue, her skin flawless. By the look on her face and the upturned tilt of her nose, she knew she was beautiful enough—and rich enough—to catch a viscount.
Conversation was slow and quiet—and dull. How Leorah longed to escape. Felicity and Elizabeth did not join them, and Leorah found herself daydreaming about her horse, Buccaneer. The doctor had said in another week she could ride again, but only a steady and calm mare or pony, not her high-spirited Buccaneer.
But Leorah didn’t always follow instructions. This might be an instance where she would use her own judgment instead.
“Miss Leorah Langdon,” Mrs. Culpepper said in her loud, strident, old-lady voice, “however did you hurt your hand?”
“I fell off my horse and broke the bone here,” Leorah said, holding up her splinted, bandaged arm and pointing to her wrist.
“Ah yes, we heard something of that, I believe. But we had heard that you broke it in a carriage accident.”
“No, Mrs. Culpepper. I was thrown from my horse, and Lord Withinghall happened to be passing by on the road in his carriage. He offered to take me home, and then we had a carriage accident. As you probably heard, his carriage overturned, killing his poor coachman and stranding us in the overturned coach in the rain—he with a broken leg and me with my broken wrist. All very innocent, though unfortunate, wouldn’t you agree? And then two gentlemen came along, one a clergyman and the other Mr. Pinegar, a Member of Parliament, and rescued us, bringing us here to Glyncove Abbey.”
The first of at least a hundred times she would have to tell that story in the next few days.
“I see.” The coldness in Mrs. Culpepper’s voice and expression angered Leorah. She could pity Lord Withinghall being forced to endure his wife’s aunt’s company for the rest of her life—almost. If he wanted to marry Augusta, then perhaps it would be no hardship to him. But somehow she could not believe Augusta’s and her aunt’s cold superiority would suit him well at all.
“I am sure there was nothing amiss, Aunt Palladia.” Augusta Norbury stared straight at Leorah without even glancing at her aunt, and the tight smile—if it was a smile—seemed to convey the message, You will stay away from my future husband if you don’t want your eyes scratched out.
Leorah couldn’t resist the challenge, and she blurted out, “Oh, it was dark, and we had both been sleeping when the men found us, and besides my using Lord Withinghall’s extra clothing as a blanket—”
Julia, who had been taking a sip of tea, made a strangled, choking sound before setting down her cup and coughing.
“—we behaved as civilly as we might have had we been surrounded by people.”
Augusta Norbury’s face turned red, while Mrs. Culpepper stared at Leorah as if she had started speaking Arabic.
“But Lord Withinghall is a complete gentleman, and even if his leg had not been broken, causing him to nearly faint when he tried to stand, I am sure I would have been completely safe with him . . . alone . . . after dark . . . on a lonely stretch of road.”
Mrs. Culpepper cleared her throat as though to speak, but Julia quickly interjected, “Oh yes, we were very grateful to find that they were both safe, though injured, after such a terrible accident—the carriage splinter bar actually broken in two, the horses run away, and the two of them stranded with broken bones. Such a terrible accident, but it could have been much worse. Thank God there will be no lasting harm from it, except for Lord Withinghall’s poor coachman, God rest his soul. You will see Lord Withinghall yourself, for he will be arriving before dinner, I am told, if his leg is not worse.”
Leorah recognized Julia’s panic, the way she spoke quickly to stave off a cold rebuttal from Mrs. Culpepper. And it seemed to have worked, because Miss Norbury’s face lost its bright-red color, and Mrs. Culpepper turned to Julia and nodded sedately. “Yes, it seems it could have been much worse. Well, and that is very fortunate for all.”
No one could be angry with Julia. Her sincerity and sweet temperament shone on her face as if she were the angel Gabriel.
Mrs. Culpepper cut her eyes to Leorah again, staring coldly.
Leorah stifled a giggle. Soon Mrs. Culpepper and Miss Norbury excused themselves to go to their rooms to prepare for dinner.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
That evening at dinner, Leorah couldn’t help watching Lord Withinghall to gauge his reaction upon first seeing Miss Augusta Norbury.
A few other guests had arrived for the house party. Lord Withinghall, of course, being a viscount, had been seated at the place of highest honor, next to the hostess, Leorah’s mother, and he had escorted Miss Norbury on one arm while leaning on his cane with the other.