Page 117

After dinner, the men did not stay long over port and tobacco, for the first stream of guests for the ball arrived.

In the ballroom, Leona found Maria Sprockett gamely attempting to engage Sharply in conversation.

With Fitzhugh and all the Deverauxs in the receiving line, she was the only one of the co-conspirators available.

She couldn’t let her friend and companion suffer Sharply.

As Leona well knew, a little of George Sharply went a long way.

It was a tiny step from sated to surfeit.

Besides, there was no better time for her to speak with him than when the guests were still arriving, and the musicians only beginning to settle at their places.

First, though, she sought out Rosalie. She decided it was wiser to bring Rosalie with her when she talked to Sharply.

It might keep her from swearing violence on George Sharply’s head!

She found her sister sitting in a brocade chair near the wall, behind Maria Sprockett and nearly totally obscured by hothouse flowers.

Rosalie was nine years older than Leona.

So far, the years had been kind to her. She was on the plump side, but her simple burgundy-and-cream satin gown flattered her figure.

There were few lines on her face and as yet not a strand of gray laced through her hair, a shade darker than Leona’s golden tone.

She was an inherently quiet woman, but there was an air of peace about her that Leona realized she’d never bothered to notice before.

That sense of peace might be necessary to be able to live with George Sharply, Leona mused.

Maria Sprockett's eyes wildly darted about as she saw Leona approach Mr. Sharply. Leona shook her head and smiled wryly to reassure her friend before going to her sister’s side.

“There you are, Rosalie. I almost despaired of finding you, hidden among the flowers as you are.”

“Oh, good. Then perhaps this truly is the best place for me to be this evening. I don’t like crowds, you know.”

“I thought I didn’t either, but I’m finding to my surprise and satisfaction that I’m enjoying myself immensely! But before the real crush of guests arrive, I thought this might be a good opportunity for me to have that chat with your husband. Do you know what Sharply wishes to discuss with me?”

“Heavens, no, Leona. Well, at least not entirely,” she amended. “You know George wouldn’t bother my head with business.” She laughed contentedly. “He had enough difficulty reconciling himself to your activities.”

A wave of irritation swept through Leona. Remembering Deveraux’s accusation of prickliness, she determinedly let it flow on through her and out. “The world is not cut to every man’s order.”

“Nor every woman’s,” agreed her sister. “Leona, dear, I know you do not care for my husband, and that shall always be a sad fact to me. Dear George does not do well in situations like this. I shall be on tenterhooks all evening, cringing for his sake.”

Leona shook her head, not understanding what her sister was trying to say.

Rosalie smiled ruefully. “He gets nervous, you know, and talks too loud, and has his words come out with meanings he doesn’t intend.

Truthfully, he does seem a bit vulgar, and he suffers such agonies for it later.

But he can’t seem to help himself! He’s also like that around you. You intimidate him dreadfully ."

"Me?”

“Yes. You’re always so calm and cool. You’ve been like that since Mama died.

It used to worry George to flinders to see you with such a serious adult air trying to pick up Mama’s responsibilities.

You were far too young to do so. Unfortunately, Father and Edmund and Charlie didn’t see that.

All they were aware of was that they were not made uncomfortable.

They didn’t care how that was achieved, nor at what cost, just so it was. ”

“Rosalie—I don’t know what to say. You are revealing to me a side of Sharply I would never have guessed. I truthfully don’t know whether to believe you or merely think you are a loyal wife!”

“Both, I should think,” Rosalie declared.

“Rosalie, are you—can you be happy always to be at Sharply’s beck and call, to be within his sight at all times?”

“Can I be happy? Leona, it is a marvelous feeling to be wanted. To have a man who insists on seeing me at all times. You are wearing blinders when you look at us! Yes, I am at his beck and call, but he is also at mine. He is as chained to me as I am to him, and it’s marvelous!

Pay attention, and you’ll see that, too. ”

Leona shook her head, dazed.

Rosalie laughed. She patted her sister’s arm.

“But come. Talk to George now. He’s waiting very anxiously to talk to you, and if you’ve noticed, he hasn’t interrupted us.

He knows he badly blundered when we arrived, and you overheard him in the hall.

The sight of this estate—what with a moat, walls, ruined keep—it was all too much for him!

He was exceedingly nervous and simply did not know how to act, the poor dear. Please, come talk to him.”

Leona allowed herself to be led over to Sharply’s side. She kept trying to see him as her sister did, but the image remained elusive.

“Ah, Leona! There you are. Good, good,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Need to talk to you. Charlie’s gone and done it, y’ know,” he said, shaking his head. “Surprised Rosalie and me, no doubt about it, eh, my pet?”

Rosalie merely smiled, encouraging her husband to continue.

“George, I don’t—” Leona began, her brow furrowing.

“Of course, you’ll come live with us. Everything all right and tight.

Ol’ George’ll arrange everything. Miss Sprockett, too, of course.

Jest talkin’ to her a moment ago. Fine woman for a bubblehead.

Been with you a long time, gettin’ on in years, and all that, eh, what?

No trouble. Always room for one more. Unless —” He winked and nudged her in the ribs.

“Unless, you sly puss, you got plans you ain’t tellin’ us? ”

“George!” Leona tried again, her voice rising. She paused, took a deep breath while asking heaven for patience, and spoke normally. “What are you blathering on about? I’ve told you repeatedly I’ve no intention of living with you.”

“No choice, seems like.”

Leona went pale. “Has. . . has Charlie lost the entire estate?”

“What? No, no. Saved it! That ought to make you happy as a grig.”

“It does,” she said through clenched teeth, her patience rapidly sifting away. “But what has Charlie done that surprises you?”

“Why, ain’t you been listening, gal? Gone and got himself leg-shackled!”

“Married?” Leona gasped. She blinked and shook her head. “Charlie is married?”

He nodded. “Knew you’d be surprised.”

“I think I need to sit down,” Leona said weakly. She edged over to a chair by the wall. “Married . . . When? To whom? Is he selling out?” Rosalie sat down next to her, taking her hand.

George Sharply scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t know if he’s sellin’ out—at least not with Boney on the loose again. Married a month ago. Some Bruges widow, I understand. Rich, too.” He shook his head again. “That Charlie’s a sly dog, and that’s a fact.”

She drew herself upright. “I do not see how Charlie’s marital status would affect me. I do not live at Lion’s Gate and haven’t for some time. I see no reason why I can’t continue to reside at Rose Cottage.”

“Yes. Stands to reason. But the thing is, you can’t. Oh, you can for a while, but not long.”

“And why not?”

“Charlie wants to install his new mama-in-law there.”

“What? George, how do you know this? If you’re just supposing?—”

“Egad, no, girl! Got a letter from Charlie. He told me all.”

“Charlie wrote to you?” Leona gasped, nonplussed. Charlie hated Sharply!

“Yes. Wanted Rosalie and me to break the news to you.”

She blinked, then her eyes narrowed, and her chin thrust forward. That sounded like Charlie! “I’ll bet! I’ll just bet! That low-down, self-indulgent cowardly weasel!”

Anger roiled through her, an anger that was much hotter and more violent for the defense of him she made to Deveraux. Her anger swelled within her to the point that she wanted to explode—at anyone and for any reason. “Rosalie, I thought you said you didn’t know what Sharply wanted to say to me!”

“All I knew is that Charlie was married,” her sister tranquilly said, depriving Leona of her target. “I never imagined he’d think to throw you out of Rose Cottage! Why, it was nearly a hovel before you and Maria took it over, cleaning it and fixing it. It does sound a great deal too bad.”

“Don’t think Charlie meant to do the thing this shabbily,” George defended. “Said he was telling his wife about the estate, and she hit upon Rose Cottage for her mama without a how-de-do.”

“Yes, but Charlie could have told her I was living there!” she said desperately, denying the ground cracking away beneath her feet.

George shifted uneasily. “Thing is, she’s got a wad of the ready, y’ know.”

She nodded, understanding at last. “And money matters more than blood. Yes. So it would be with Charlie. . . .” She visibly shook herself.

“Well, Charlie is the head of the family now. We shall all have to do what we can to make his wife welcome. That—That is the least of our duties.” Her words were typically decisive, though the audible catch in her throat was not.

“And you will come to live with us?” Rosalie asked softly.

“I don’t know. . . . Don’t ask me now. My head is in a whirl.” Leona rose shakily from the chair, the ballroom a confusing blur of color and motion, her entire world giving way beneath her feet, dropping her once more into that storm-tossed ocean, that vast, endless abyss of loneliness.

George Sharply looked as if he would object, but a gentle touch on his arm by his wife stilled his too-ready tongue.