Page 71 of The English Duke
“You’re to come to a meeting, Miss Martha,” Amy said. “Your grandmother says it’s important.”
“A meeting?”
The maid nodded and gave her directions.
She was to go to yet another of Sedgebrook’s parlors, this one called the Veldt. When she arrived, she realized the room was most definitely not a woman’s chamber, not with the spears and shields painted in wild slashes of brown and black and arranged along the pale green walls.
Fearsome masks, some round, some elongated until they stretched at least three feet, were mounted on a far wall.
The room was on the second floor and no doubt filled the function of an office, due to the desk sitting by the window. She wondered if the duke had chosen it for that reason or for the fact that it didn’t require her grandmother to descend the steps. She had a feeling it was the latter, because he’d always struck her as being considerate of others, even when it wasn’t convenient for him to do so.
Look at how kind he had been to Gran, as well as the hospitality he’d shown them.
She was the first to arrive, and wanted to ask someone if the masks and weapons came from Africa. Unfortunately, the next person to enter the room was Josephine.
They hadn’t spoken since last night.
She wasn’t surprised to see that Josephine’s sparkling green eyes were pink. Someone who didn’t know her well would think she’d spent the intervening hours crying. Or that the dark circles meant she was feeling ill.
She knew her sister and had seen Josephine redden her own eyes with a mixture she’d purchased in London. A tiny bit of soot would explain the dark circles. Josephine was not above dulling her beauty if it meant succeeding in manipulating people.
“Why are we here?” she asked.
No one had told her. While Amy said it was important, she hadn’t added any additional information. When Amy didn’t want to say anything further no amount of coaxing would get her to speak.
“Gran wishes to make an announcement,” Josephine said now, studying the room with an almost acquisitive look.
She needed to speak to Josephine about her behavior, but now was not the time.
Besides, she was getting the feeling she was about to be called to account for her behavior last night. The fact that Josephine refused to look at her, instead choosing to studiously examine the masks, was a form of premonition.
Why here, though? Why hadn’t Gran summoned her to her room? Was it because she was also going to ask Jordan to be in attendance?
Please, no.
She sat on one of the dark brown overstuffed settees with a rosewood frame carved with horns and animal faces. Josephine sat on the opposite settee.
Her sister was wearing yet another dress, this one a dark blue with a white-and-blue striped sash. The fabric of the skirt was drawn up from the hem, revealing a white-and-blue striped underskirt before meeting in a bustle at the back. She’d never seen the garment before and under normal circumstances she would tell Josephine how lovely it was. However, she wasn’t feeling charitable toward Josephine at the moment.
Amy had done miracles with Martha’s dress, sponging off the dirt at the hem, freshening up the bow at the bustle, but it was the same lavender dress she’d worn for days.
Why was she worried about what she was wearing? Did her appearance matter?
She didn’t want to be here, dread settling over her like a warm blanket.
“Did you tell anyone?” she asked Josephine.
Her sister wouldn’t look at her.
“Josephine, please. Did you tell Gran what happened last night?”
Her sister only smiled at her, a small, almost pitying expression that only increased Martha’s anxiety.
Her sister had betrayed her, a fact that unfortunately didn’t surprise her.
The clock on the mantelpiece struck the hour. Both she and Josephine glanced at it, each other, and then away.
The tale would be spread to London, she was certain. People liked to talk about the York family. York Armaments was an important institution, both for the government and the military. She could almost hear the gossips’ words.
