The Sherbrooke Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 1)

“You’re abominable, you know that, Sinjun?”

“You aren’t in a particularly excellent temper this morning, Douglas. Has Tony been twitting you again? Don’t pay him any mind. I am so glad you’re home and you’re married to Alex. Shall we go riding after breakfast?”

“Why not?” said Alexandra. “I wish to mark the closest road to London.”

Aunt Mildred was indeed occupied with two scones that dripped honey and butter. She gave Alexandra a look from beneath lowered brows but said nothing.

Alexandra felt Douglas’s hand on her elbow, pulling her to a halt. She paused, looking up at him. “It’s time you sat where you’re supposed to.”

She looked at the countess’s chair and actually shuddered. “But it isn’t necessary and—”

“And nothing. Be quiet and obey me. It will be a new experience for you. Here, sit down.”

“You look very fine in that chair,” Sinjun said. “Mother will gnash her teeth, but it is only right, you know, that Douglas’s wife take precedence. You are the mistress here now. And, according to Douglas, a Sherbrooke must always do his or her duty and be responsible.”

“A pity my cousin didn’t heed any of the famous Sherbrooke maxims, the perfidious cur.”

Aunt Mildred said to the table at large, “She is too small for that chair.”

Douglas smiled down the expanse of table to his wife. “Should you like to sit on a pillow?”

Sinjun said, “Actually, Aunt, this chair is quite the right size for Alex. I must say that Mother overflowed it a bit. It is the chair in the formal dining room that must needs be cushioned for Alex.”

“You’re right, Sinjun,” Tony said.

“No one requires your opinion, Anthony,” Aunt Mildred said. “You have behaved abominably. Really! Marrying two girls and handing over the wrong one to Douglas.”

“The scones are delicious,” Sinjun said, and offered one to her aunt.

“Don’t, I pray, say that to my wife, Aunt,” Tony said. “Why, she lives to breathe the very air I breathe, she pines if I am gone from her for even a veritable instant, she—”

“I believe we should buy Alex a mare today, Douglas,” Sinjun said, waving another scone in Tony’s direction. “Now, you can’t thrash Tony at the breakfast table. Oh, Douglas, I saw Tom O’Malley and he told me all about your and Alex’s visit and how you took excellent care of Alex and how you sent him a new bed the very next day. He said it was heaven, it surely was, the first bed he’d ever owned that was longer than he was. Ah, here’s Hollis. His Lordship is in need of coffee, Hollis.”

“I see that he is indeed in need,” Hollis agreed and poured coffee from a delicate silver pot. “Would Your Ladyship care for some coffee?”

Alex jumped. Ladyship! She looked into Hollis’s kind face. “Some tea, if you please, Hollis. I haven’t gotten the taste for coffee.”

“I believe, young lady, that you are seated in my chair!”

“Oh dear,” Sinjun said, “we’re in the suds now and it isn’t even close to noon.”

The Dowager Countess of Northcliffe presented an impressive portrait of outrage. “Be quiet this instant, Joan, else you will spend the rest of the year in your bedchamber. I can see how you encourage her. Now, as for you, you will remove yourself.”

CHAPTER

16

A SUDDEN THICK silence swallowed every sound in the breakfast room.

Alex looked toward Douglas. He was sitting perfectly still, his fork in his right hand, suspended still as a stone in the silence. He gave her a slight nod. So, he was leaving it to her. He was not going to intervene. She swallowed, then turned to face her mother-in-law.

She said mildly, “You know, my name isn’t ‘young lady,’ it’s Alexandra. To be more precise, it’s Lady Alexandra. I’m the daughter of a duke. It is strange, is it not, that if we were at Carlton House, I would take precedence over you. Even though I have taken a step down, nuptially speaking, I still would take precedence. However, you are now my relative, you are much older than I and thus I owe you respect. I have never understood why age demanded more respect, but it seems to be the way of things. Now, should you like to call me Alexandra or Lady Northcliffe?”

The Dowager Countess of Northcliffe wasn’t a twig to be snapped in a stiff breeze, yet she saw the steel in the girl seated in her chair—her chair—and was forced to reassess her position. Her son wasn’t saying a word. He wasn’t defending her, his own dear mother. The dowager drew in a deep breath, but she was forestalled by Hollis, who said very quietly, “My lady, cook has prepared a special nutty bun for you this morning, topped with frosted almonds and cinnamon. It is delightful, truly, and she is waiting breathlessly for your opinion. Here, my lady, do sit here in this lovely chair that gives such a fine view onto the eastern lawn. You can see that the peacocks are strutting this morning. I have always thought it the best-placed chair at the table.”

The dowager wasn’t certain what to do. It was her sham daughter-in-law who decided her. Alexandra said quickly, clapping her hands in excitement, “Oh, I should very much like to see the peacocks, Hollis. Are their tails fully fanned? How wonderful! Ma’am, would you mind if I sat there this morning so that I can look at them? I had remarked before that the placement of that chair was marvelous.”

The dowager said, all three chins elevated, “No, I wish to