Page 42 of Wicked Again
“You make yourself sound quite ancient, which is ridiculous. You are far from being an elderly matron along the lines of the Dowager Marchioness of Cambourne. Besides,” Arabella’s voice softened, “I saw the way he looked at you.”
Marissa’s eyes burned with tears she refused to shed. “Haddon is in the market for a wife. He’s got four daughters and is in need of a son.”
“Are you sure of that, Aunt?” Arabella shrugged when Marissa didn’t answer. “At any rate, I find Christina Sykes to be an annoying creature. She twitters.”
“She does indeed.”
Thinking of Haddon and Lady Christina Sykes did nothing to brighten Marissa’s mood.
“Well, look who has arrived.” Arabella nodded in the direction of the door. “I thought she might accompany Lady Higgins.”
So had Marissa.
Magnificently coiffed in a gown of pale gray silk, Lady Pendleton sidled into the room like an overdressed crab. Pale skin stretched taut across the sharp bones of her face, drawing attention to the sunken hollows of her cheeks. Lips thinning, Lydia took in the assemblage gathered in the room.
Marissa smiled. Lydia had little charity in her heart for anyone. How annoyed she must be, forced to attend with Lady Higgins, a woman Lydia most certainly considered beneath her.
Next to Lydia and Lady Higgins stood an unremarkable looking young girl, several years older than Jordana. Simon’s intended bride was perfectly suitable at first glance. She was incredibly average in every way possible. Slender, but not painfully thin. Dark brown hair like dozens of other girls. Wide blue eyes above gently rounded cheeks. Tiny rosebud of a mouth.
Lydia said something to Miss Higgins and the girl immediately looked down at her slippers as if studying the stitching across the top.
A frown tugged at Marissa’s lips.Horribly docile.Probably lacks the ability to think on her own. Exactly the sort of young lady Lydia would deem perfect for her precious son.
If nothing else, I need to save that poor girl from having to endure Lydia as a mother-in-law.
Lydia gave a roll of her shoulders, one of her patent disingenuous laughs filling the air while her head tilted back as if horribly amused. Her head jerked sharply as she caught sight of Marissa sitting across the room, Arabella at her side.
“Oh, dear. She doesn’t look happy to see you, Aunt. I can’t imagine why,” Arabella said with a small laugh. “Ido hopeshe simply detests meeting me and realizes she cannot so much as give me a sour look. Lady Higgins holds this charity very near and dear to her heart. And I’m the largest donor in attendance, besides Lady Higgins.”
“Are you? I didn’t realize you’d found miners to be worthy of your charity, Arabella. You’ve never shown concern for their plight before.”
“Well,” Arabella nodded in the direction of Lady Higgins, “Cornwall isfullof miners and also mine owners, most of whom do business with Sir Richard Higgins through one of his banks. Lady Higgins considers herself to be quite the philanthropist, as evidenced by her support of the Chenwith Society, to which I am now a generous contributor.”
“Clever girl, aren’t you, Bella?”
“My husband thinks so. Besides, Rowan has interests in Cornwall.”
Of course he did. Arabella’s husband had his hand in a great manyinterests, the multitude so great, Marissa found it boggled the mind. How in the world did anyone think Rowan merely a lovely gentleman who charmed the ladies of thetonand drank scotch with their husbands?
“I am not surprised at the news of Rowan’s interests in Cornwall.”
Arabella gave a soft chuckle.
Lady Higgins’s gaze landed on Arabella, fairly beaming when Marissa’s niece inclined her head in the woman’s direction. It was clear Lady Higgins was thrilled to see Arabella attending a gathering of the Chenwith Society.
As well she should. The patronage of the Duke of Dunbar’s sister would give Lady Higgins and her projects, including the Chenwith Society, a great deal of support and attract the patronage of other wealthy ladies.
Taking her daughter’s arm, Lady Higgins whispered to Lydia before proceeding toward Arabella.
Face soured with displeasure, Lydia peered around the room as if looking for a way to exit gracefully before her eyes fell on Marissa again. She stiffened her narrow shoulders, resigned to the inevitable.
Marissa wanted to giggle at her discomfort. This wasmostenjoyable.
Arabella stood gracefully to greet Lady Higgins.
“Lady Malden.” Lady Higgins bobbed politely upon reaching them. “Pardon the intrusion.” She looked at Marissa in apology.
“Not at all, Lady Higgins.” Arabella bestowed a gracious smile. “May I present my aunt, Lady Cupps-Foster.”
