Page 10

Stark. That was the word Catherine decided she would use to describe Harth House--elegant yet stark.

It made her wonder if her aunt were as wealthy and snobbish as she had assumed.

The lack of expensive bric-a-brac could connote a reversal in the family fortunes and the necessity of selling off family heirlooms.

Catherine suddenly felt uncomfortable in her masquerade and determined to act cheerful and friendly, for it was possible Lady Harth could ill afford to present four nieces and was genuinely doing so out of some misguided notion of family honor.

Or perhaps she was quite mad, as the footman suggested.

With decidedly mixed emotions, Catherine heard the door open, followed by the rustle of silk skirts. She took a deep breath, placed a smile on her lips, and squared her shoulders.

A tall, angularly-built woman garbed in a mustard-colored gown stopped ten feet away. She folded her hands before her, tilted her head back, raised one thin eyebrow, and stared down her aquiline nose at Catherine.

Catherine’s smile faltered, a blush surging up her neck to her cheeks, staining them deep red.

Suddenly she was uncomfortably aware of her rain-drenched clothes and her cold, damp feet.

She shifted position restlessly before the woman’s considering stare.

Anger flared within her, and she abruptly raised her head to meet the gaze of the woman.

It was then she saw the other woman, who was wearing a gage green gown, a plump woman with an open and sadly smiling countenance.

She reminded Catherine of her father. Confusion swept through Catherine. She dropped her gaze to the floor.

Pursing her lips at her sister’s stiff, unwelcoming demeanor, Lady Orrick swept past her sister, Alicia, to enfold Catherine in a welcoming embrace.

She clucked her tongue. It never failed that after one of her sister’s accidents she turned formidably arrogant.

It was as if she blamed the next person she saw for her clumsiness.

“I just can’t believe it! Ralph’s little girl, after all these years!

” Lady Orrick cooed delightedly, her sharp eyes rapidly scanning Catherine and her entourage.

She nodded once to herself in satisfaction, though she was curious as to the child’s drab clothing.

The girl’s mother, she remembered, dressed conservatively but at least possessed an excellent sense of color and style.

Lady Orrick turned back to gauge Alicia’s reaction.

Obviously, her sister saw nothing amiss in their niece’s attire, so busy was she assessing her niece as a person.

Lady Orrick’s eyes narrowed; their sparkle dimmed.

She was not pleased by the looks exchanged by her sister and Catherine in awkward silence, though the answering challenge she saw on Catherine’s face intrigued her.

“Passable,” the tall, angular woman finally declared, stepping closer. “Those freckles are deplorable, but you’ll do. I am your aunt, Lady Harth, Countess of Seaverness. You may call me Aunt Alicia,” she declared briskly. “This is your Aunt Penelope, Lady Orrick.”

“Orrick?” sputtered Maureen Dawes, drawing all eyes toward her for the first time.

Catherine whirled around, reaching out to grasp Maureen’s wrist, silently imploring her to be quiet.

“We—we encountered a young gentleman along the way by the name of Orrick. He was blond, blue-eyed, probably about twenty. Is he any relation?” Catherine said rapidly, pulling down on Maureen’s hand and all the while smiling brightly.

“Yes, that would be my son Stephen, your cousin.”

“Really?” Catherine said, “How—how—interesting!”

So far, Lady Orrick was the only person to welcome her with any warmth at all. She could not repay this gentlewoman, who so resembled her father, by tale-bearing.

Lady Orrick studied her niece’s expression and the consternation she saw written on Mrs. Dawes’s round visage with interest. No doubt Catherine’s meeting with her son had been less than amicable.

She hoped the ugly bruise on Catherine’s chaperone’s face was not some souvenir of their encounter.

Well, that story she would get later from her scapegrace offspring.

“Let me introduce you to some of your other cousins,” Penelope said, skillfully drawing Catherine past Alicia toward the others standing in the hall. Despite her sister’s ridiculous standoffish manner, the child needed welcoming.

Lady Harth regally nodded agreement, then turned to face Mr. and Mrs. Dawes. “Thank you for escorting my niece from Yorkshire. Give my butler your direction as you leave. I will see that you are adequately repaid for your efforts.”

“What! Well, I never,” began Maureen indignantly.

“Thank you very kindly,” interrupted Raymond, “but Sir Eugene Burke has already paid our expenses.”

Lady Orrick looked back over her shoulder at Raymond Dawes. She owned she had not paid much attention to the fellow previously, but Sir Eugene Burke's name piqued her interest. What did he have to do with her niece?

“Excellent,” Lady Harth told Dawes, neither recognizing nor caring about the identity of Sir Eugene Burke. “Good day.”

Catherine, hearing the last, looked over her shoulder to see the Dawes turning to leave and hastened to bid them goodbye.

Her Aunt Alicia was certainly strange. Catherine couldn’t decide if her initial summation of the woman was accurate or if her revised idea that she was genteelly impoverished yet proud was correct. Nevertheless, she surmised she’d stepped into a very unusual household.

Aunt Penelope patted her arm, drawing her attention to three beautiful blond young women standing at the base of the stairs. After a glance at the gray-streaked blond hair showing beneath her aunts’ lace caps, she began to understand how her cousin Orrick could doubt her Shreveton lineage.

The youngest two women were as matched as bookends, differing only in the color of the ribbons trimming their identical floral-printed muslin frocks. They were perfect specimens of china doll beauty and radiated as much warmth as a statue. They looked at Catherine with twin expressions of boredom.

“Catherine, these are your cousins, Lady Iris and Lady Dahlia, daughters of your uncle, the Earl of Whelan. Don’t try to tell them apart; I can assure you it is impossible!

” Lady Orrick said gaily, though privately annoyed by the twins’ attitudes.

“To accommodate us, they wear some article of clothing that enables us to differentiate between them. Girls,” she said, looking at them pointedly, “please help me make your cousin Catherine welcome.”

Lady Iris and Lady Dahlia looked at each other in private, unspoken communication, then turned back toward Catherine, their perfect bow-shaped mouths lifting upwards at the corners in exactly the same manner.

“Charmed,” the one with the blue ribbons murmured.

“Delighted,” the one with the red ribbons added.

Lady Orrick frowned briefly and steered Catherine away from the twins. Her brow cleared and a warm smile lit her face as they drew near her shy third niece. “This is your cousin Susannah, daughter of your uncle, Captain Glendon Shreveton.”

Susannah approached Catherine hesitatingly. She was tiny and delicately boned, her hair a richer golden blond than that of the twins, her eyes brown instead of blue, brown eyes that were as large and soft as a young doe’s.

Catherine spontaneously smiled at her.

Relieved, Susannah smiled back.

“Aunt Alicia, shouldn’t we be dressing for the Wyndersham musicale?” Red Ribbon interrupted. Blue Ribbon nodded agreement, smiling sweetly at their aunt.

“The Wyndershams! Of course, at once. We can’t let Catherine’s late arrival discommode us further. Quick, girls, upstairs, at once.”

“Alicia!” Penelope protested, “surely you’re not planning on Catherine’s attending an affair her first night in the city.”

“Most certainly not! She’ll need to be decently attired as befits a Shreveton before she may go anywhere.”

“You would have her stay here, alone, when she has just arrived?”

“But, Penelope,” protested her sister, “since you have been so disagreeable as to have other plans for this evening, I have no recourse.”

“Alicia!” Lady Orrick placed her hands on her ample hips and glared at her elder sister.

“Oh, very well,” Lady Harth said sourly, “Susannah may stay with Catherine.”

Lady Orrick pursed her lips briefly. “That’s not what I had in mind,” she said severely.

“It’s all right, Aunt Penelope,” Susannah interjected. “I would like to stay.”

Penelope frowned doubtfully.

“And I assure you, I will not mind if they all go out,” Catherine said. “It was a long journey,” she added coaxingly.

“Very properly said,” Lady Harth stated, nodding in approval. “Susannah, show Catherine to her room.”

“Immediately, Aunt Alicia,” Susannah said, making a little curtsy.

Lady Orrick’s frown deepened. When she had seen the twins work their manipulative ways upon Alicia to get her to give them a London Season, Penelope suggested to her sister that she present all of their nieces who had not been presented.

She desired that the twins succeed beyond their expectations and perhaps learn a lesson against manipulating others.

Unfortunately, she neglected to consider the possibility of continued manipulation on the part of Aldric’s daughters.

Now she worried that the twins, flaunting their position as daughters of an Earl, would make life miserable for their cousins.

To make matters worse, she would not be in London to deflect the worst of their mischief. She had promised her daughter, Marianne, to be present at her third confinement. Penelope shook her head in self-disgust. This was very ill-planned.