The Heiress Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 3)

“Good evening, Joan.”

“Hello, Colin.”

He arched a black brow at the interested tone of her voice, b

ut said nothing, merely bowed.

Aunt Arleth was the only one in the dark and dour drawing room, sitting near a sluggishly burning peat fire. She was dressed in unrelieved black, a beautiful cameo at her throat. She was very thin, her hair black and luxuriant, pulled up in an elegant twist, white wings sweeping back at her temples. She had once been quite pretty. Now she looked annoyed, her mouth thin, her pointed chin up. Aunt Arleth rose and said without preamble, “The children are eating with Dulcie in the nursery. My nerves are overset, nephew, what with the arrival of this Young Person, whom you had to carry upstairs, with everyone looking. I don’t want the children at my table tonight.”

Colin merely smiled. “I, on the other hand, have missed my children.” He motioned to a footman, who was wearing a very ragged livery of dark blue and faded white. “Fetch the children, please, Rory.”

There was a hiss of anger, and Sinjun turned to Aunt Arleth and said, “Please, ma’am, it is I who wish to have them at the dinner table. They’re now my responsibility and I should like to get to know them.”

“I have never believed children should be allowed to eat with the adults.”

“Yes, Aunt, we know your feelings. Indulge me for this evening. Joan, some sherry? Aunt, what would you like?”

Aunt Arleth accepted her sherry, sat down, and became markedly silent. Serena came into the drawing room at that moment, looking like a princess in a very formal gown of pale pink silk, her lovely dark brown hair threaded through with matching pink ribbon. She was smiling, her eyes bright and very gray and staring directly at Colin. Oh dear, Sinjun thought, and accepted her sherry from MacDuff. What, she wondered, was it going to be like when Colin left? Serena then nodded to Sinjun and gave her a smile that said quite clearly that she knew she was beautiful and Sinjun must know it as well.

Sinjun smiled at her, willing to try, and to her surprise Serena smiled back. It seemed a genuine smile, and Sinjun prayed it was, but she wasn’t stupid. There were deep waters in Vere Castle, very deep. Then the children were ushered in by Dulcie, the nursery maid, a young girl with merry dark eyes and a lovely smile and a very big bosom.

Both children were beautiful. Philip, the image of his father, stood tall and proud and scared. His eyes darted from his father to Sinjun and back again. He made no move toward anyone, nor did he say anything. Dahling, on the other hand, walked over to her father in her too-short gown and a pair of slippers that had certainly seen better days, and said, “Dulcie said if we weren’t good at the dinner table and made you yell at us, the ghost of Pearlin’ Jane would get us.”

“Och, what a bairn!” Dulcie exclaimed, throwing up her hands and laughing. “Yer a wee nit, ye are, my lass!”

“Thank you, Dulcie,” Aunt Arleth said, clearly dismissing the girl. “You may return to fetch them in an hour, no longer, mind.”

“Aye, ma’am,” Dulcie said in a squashed voice as she curtsied.

“I don’t like you filling the child’s mind with those absurd ghost stories.”

“No, ma’am.”

“There are many who have seen Pearlin’ Jane,” MacDuff said mildly. He turned to Sinjun. “She’s our most famous ghost, a young lady who was supposedly betrayed and heartlessly murdered by our great-grandfather.”

“Nonsense,” said Aunt Arleth. “I’ve never seen her. Your great-grandfather wouldn’t have hurt a gnat.”

“Fiona saw her many times,” Serena said quietly to Sinjun. “She told me that the first time she saw her in her white pearl-sewn gown, she nearly fainted with fright, but the ghost didn’t try to harm her or scare her. She just sat there, atop the castle gate, her face as white as death itself, and stared at her.”

“I fancy that was just about the time Fiona discovered Colin had a mistress.”

Sinjun gasped. She stared at Aunt Arleth, not believing what the woman had said. It was outrageous; it was unbelievable. Now she said to Sinjun, her voice full of spite, “Don’t be a ninny, girl! Men are men no matter where you are, and they all have mistresses, aye, and Fiona found out about that little slut he’d taken to his bed.”

Sinjun looked swiftly at Colin, but there was only a sardonic look on his face. It was as if he were quite used to this sort of attack and didn’t regard it. But Sinjun had no intention of ignoring it. She was infuriated. She said in a very loud and clear voice, “You will not speak of Colin again in that discreditable way. He would never break his vows, never. If you think he would, why then, you are either blind or stupid, or just plain mean. I won’t tolerate it, ma’am. You live in my husband’s house. You will treat him with the respect he deserves.”

How to make an enemy in just a few short seconds, Sinjun thought. Aunt Arleth sucked in her breath but said nothing. Sinjun looked down at her clasped hands. There was utter silence.

Then Colin laughed, a deep, full, rich laugh that reverberated off the water-spotted wallpaper of the large drawing room. He said with very real humor, “Aunt Arleth, beware. Joan here must needs protect me. She won’t allow any insult against me. She needs but a horse and some armor and she would go into a tourney to defend my honor. I suggest, ma’am, that you moderate your speech when around her. I have found that even when she is angry with me, she is still ferocious in her defense of me. Only she is allowed to cosh my head, no one else. It’s odd, but it’s true. Now, shall we all adjourn to the dining room? Philip, take Dahling’s hand. Joan, allow me to show you the way.”

“She needs to be taught manners,” Aunt Arleth said under her breath, but of course not under enough.

“My groats are on you,” MacDuff said in Sinjun’s ear as Colin seated her in the countess’s chair down the long expanse of mahogany dining table. It was Aunt Arleth’s chair, Sinjun knew that. She held her breath, but Aunt Arleth merely paused a moment, then shrugged. She seated herself in a chair held by Colin, on his left hand. No upset, no uproar, for which Sinjun was grateful. The children were placed in the middle, MacDuff on one side, Serena on the other.

“I wish to propose a toast,” Colin said, and rose to his feet. He lifted his wineglass. “To the new countess of Ashburnham.”

“Hear! Hear!” MacDuff shouted.

“Yes, indeed,” said Serena warmly.