Page 45 of Tall, Dark & Wicked
Katherine pulled back her foot sharply, a pout on her lips. “You have always been a trifle morbid, haven’t you, Lord Morwick? I think you enjoy shocking everyone with your comments.”
“I don’t find it at all shocking, merely truthful.” Brendan leaned back in his chair, wine glass clasped loosely in one hand. Who knew the mention of the long missing Reggie would dampen Katherine’s ardor?
The table quieted; only the clinking of silverware sounded as the guests continued their meal, attempting to ignore their mortification at the mention of the long-disappeared former Earl of Morwick.
Mother’s hand trembled slightly as she raised her fork, then just as quickly put it down.
“I’m a student of geology as well, my lord.” Mr. Divet’s cheerful voice broke the silence at the table, deftly averting disaster by turning the direction of the conversation. “There are some incredible fossils to be found in the American territories.”
The strained conversation at the table instantly eased and Brendan relaxed. “Tell me more.”
18
As seemed their habit, Lady Pendleton and Mother were determined to discuss Petra’s future once the men melted away to enjoy their brandy. One would think they’d find something else of interest to discuss.
Haddon’s daughter, Jordana, stayed close to Mrs. Divet’s side as they retired to Lady Pendleton’s garish drawing room to await the arrival of the gentlemen. Jordana’s dark eyes flashed with rebellion as she listened to the various rules required to ensure a successful Season and attract the right type of gentleman. The mulish tilt of her head led Petra to believe Haddon would have his work cut out for him in London, for Jordana didn’t strike her as particularly obedient.
Petra’s attention drifted to the open doorway, wondering if Morwick had joined the others in spite of Simon’s dislike. It was then that she noticed Katherine, who’d stayed behind with the excuse that she needed to speak to the head footman, hadn’t joined the other ladies in the drawing room.
“An excellent nanny will be essential, especially while Parliament is in session.” Lady Pendleton intoned. “Simon lives a whirlwind of dinners, meetings and travel outside of London if he needs to convince someone of a bill he’s sponsoring. He’s incredibly dedicated. Simon’s grandsire, my father, was also politically inclined. Perhaps that’s where his interest first began. At any rate, I recall times when I didn’t see my parents for weeks at a time or more, such was their schedule.”
“Goodness, how exciting,” Mother twittered, totally enamored of Petra’s future as the wife of Viscount Pendleton, social reformer and brilliant orator of Parliament.
Petra clasped her hands in her lap. She loved children and had no intention of leaving any child of hers for extended periods of time so Simon could pursue his political ambitions. Mother, for all of her faults, had been present in Petra’s upbringing and Petra had every intention of doing the same in her own children’s life.
“A governess, one fluent in French, will be of the utmost importance.” Lady Pendleton’s lips were pursed as she laid out her vision of Petra’s life.
The urge to stamp her feet and run screaming from the room was nearly overwhelming. Petra could stand the conversation no longer and stood abruptly, ignoring the look of disapproval on her mother’s face. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
“Are you well, dear?” Lady Pendleton asked solicitously, though there was no concern in her eyes.
“Quite, thank you. I merely need a moment to refresh myself.”
Lady Pendleton inclined her head. “Of course, my dear.” She waved a gloved hand in dismissal and went back to her conversation.
Petra nodded to her mother, ignoring the tiny hill of disapproval forming on her upper lip. She exited the drawing room, relieved to have a few moments to herself. All her life, Petra had done what was expected of her, and now the expectation was that she marry Simon.
But I don’t think I can.
The last week had shown how incredibly ill-suited she and Simon were, leaving little doubt a marriage would be disastrous, no matter what her mother thought. He’d no interest in her at all outside of the fact that she wasn’t reckless and wouldn’t cause a scandal. She thought back to the time they’d spent together in London. Mother had always been present and directed the conversation. If Simon and she had happened to have a private moment, they had only talked of whatever social event loomed on the calendar. He was a marvelous dancer, but outside of clever, witty comments about the current gossip swirling about the ton, Simon had rarely asked Petra anything remotely personal.
Dear God.Simon’s dancing mixed with clever comments was hardly a decent foundation for a marriage. The suffocating feeling she’d felt on the way to Brushbriar threatened again and Petra actually paused and put a hand to her throat.
Once she was a safe distance from the drawing room, Petra halted. She had no desire to return to the drawing room and decided she wouldn’t. Once the gentlemen joined the ladies, Mother would be forced to make excuses to Simon for Petra’s absence. Or would she? Simon may be so immersed in showing off his knowledge of American politics to Mr. Divet, he’d barely notice she wasn’t admiring him.
I don’t care.
As she climbed the stairs to her room, Petra knew Mother would be embarrassed to have to explain her whereabouts, but she wasn’t feeling especially charitable toward her mother tonight. Nor Lady Pendleton. Nor Simon. Nor Morwick, for that matter. Returning to her room to retrieve the Lord Thurston novel tucked at the bottom of her trunk seemed a much more pleasing option than spending the remainder of the evening with any of them.
Grabbing a lamp from the table at the top of the stairs, Petra made her way toward her chamber. Dinner had been a trial. Mother was exhausting. This whole bloody house party was ill-advised, in Petra’s opinion. The inclination to simply lower her head and obey everyone had abated, leaving nothing but a deep resentment at being nothing more than a chess piece for them all to chortle over. Morwick’s manner was the most painful, especially in light of her observation he may only be toying with her to annoy Simon.
As she neared her room, the creaking sound of a door sounded further down the shadowed hall. A soft seductive murmur met her ears along with the swish of silk. Odd. Petra had left the ladies in the drawing room. Except for one lady in particular.
Katherine.
The family’s chambers were in the opposite wing of the house. Petra seriously doubted Katherine was directing the servants on last minute details for the guests who would arrive on the morrow. There could be only one reason why Katherine was in the wing where the guests were residing.
With a puff, Petra blew out her lamp before she was noticed.
