Amanda Scott Read Online Free PDF

Lydia’s train of thought and realized, not for the first time, that while it was easy enough to divert her sister-in-law’s attention for moments at a time, it was rarely possible to put her off the scent entirely. She grimaced. “I couldn’t explain other than to tell him it wasn’t what he thought, that we were merely talking.”
    “It is well known that Lord Roderick has always wanted whatever Simon had,” Lydia said slowly, musingly, “so perhaps—”
    “No!” Diana interrupted explosively. “I won’t listen to such stuff, Lyddy, even from you. If Rory is bitter, he has cause to be, but much as they have fought over the years, he loves Simon and Simon loves him. He covets nothing of Simon’s—not anymore—only what should be his by right. Even Simon was beginning to see that, before he had to tow Rory out of River Tick again only a week before we reached Wilton—”
    Lydia’s laughter interrupted her. “Oh, forgive me, Diana,” she said, attempting unsuccessfully to stifle her mirth, “but you jump about so. One moment I’m nearly persuaded to feel sorry for Lord Roderick, and the next you paint a perfectly clear portrait of poor Andover coming home from France to be met by the news that his scapegrace twin is under the hatches again and must be rescued from a sponging house. Then, as thanks for the rescue, Lord Roderick is caught making love to Andover’s wife. Andover ought very likely to be ripe for Bedlam by now. One must hope that Lord Roderick did not choose to fly into the boughs after that little scene you described to me, and leave Wilton House on your heels, else Andover will think the two of you have run off together.”
    Diana tossed her head. She hadn’t considered the possibility of Rory’s taking flight, too, but if the thought disturbed her, she would never admit as much to Lydia. “So what if Simon does think I’ve made a conquest of Rory?” she demanded. “He’s accused me of flirting often and often, just as though he himself had not left a string of feminine conquests from Calais to Paris on this latest trip of his.”
    “Goodness, did he, indeed? A whole string of them? How very tired he must have been,” Lydia said sympathetically. “I daresay he quite collapsed at Mr. Bonaparte’s feet, which perfectly accounts for their mission having gone so well. No doubt that odious man merely counted Andover’s behavior as proper obeisance from a potential subject.”
    Diana choked. “Lydia, will you, for the love of Heaven, be serious?”
    “But I am serious, my love, perfectly serious. If I mouth absurdities, ’tis only because the thought of Andover making love to countless Frenchwomen, one after the other, can be nothing but absurd. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Diana.”
    “The way he looked at me, you mean. I tell you, Lyddy, the man stifles my very spirit. His jealousy is ridiculous. Even if I do flirt a little, we all do. Such behavior is expected. It is also perfectly harmless, as everyone but Simon seems to know. And he does flirt, too, whatever you may think, so he has no business to tell me to stop when he won’t stop himself.”
    Lydia gave her a long look, and Diana felt sudden tears springing to her eyes. But the older woman made no attempt to press the issue, giving instead a quick look at the elegant, gilt Cafieri clock on the Nash mantelpiece. With a ladylike shriek of dismay she exclaimed, “Good gracious, Diana, only look at the time! I’d no notion the hour was so far advanced, and I must be up with the birds, for I promised to visit the dairy in time for the milking. We’ve a new dairymaid, you see, and I promised Ethelmoor I’d keep watch till she’s found her way about. A nice child from one of the tenant families, and she’ll do well enough, but it is always difficult being new at something. Never mind feeling you must get up any earlier than you would have done at Wilton House, however,” she added, still speaking rapidly. “We