Lady John Read Online Free PDF

available to three strangers who meet as family, speaking
generally of the journey, the state of Brussels at their departure, and of the
size and grandeur of Catenhaugh.
    “We will have many long cozes, my dear,” the Duchess patted
Olivia’s hand briskly. “But for now, I am convinced that you must wish to
retire to your rooms to refresh yourselves, perhaps to sleep for a bit. We keep
country hours at Catenhaugh; a maid will bring you a can of hot water at
half-past five; the dressing bell rings at quarter to six. And by all means ask
someone to direct you to the drawing room, where we all meet for dinner. This
is a puzzle of a house if you are new to it!”
    Olivia and her mother rose at once. The Duchess, making
ready to rise herself, cast a look at Mrs. Martingale’s trim figure and waved
away Miss Weedwright’s assistance. “Well,” she puffed brightly when she had
arrived upon her feet. “I shall see you at dinner, then. We dine en famille this evening.” The Duchess smiled
again and offered her hand to Olivia. “I am truly happy that you have come.”
With which she glided from the room like a heavily laden barge.
    “Come along, Mamma; we must recruit our forces,” Olivia said.
    “Livvy, dearest, shall you like your new family?”
    “I plan to do, Mamma. I think, in any case, that the Duchess
and I shall deal comfortably together. How can I dislike her when she is so
good to us?” Lady John took her mother’s arm and they followed in the wake of a
housemaid who had appeared to show them to their rooms. “En famille: I daresay we had best prepare to
dine with a dozen people at least.”
    “Do you think?” Mrs. Martingale inquired sleepily. “Gracious,
I seem to be tired!”
    Somewhat to her own surprise Olivia, shown to an apartment
where her abigail was already occupied in unpacking her clothes, found that she
was fatigued too. Gratefully she allowed Bliss to remove her traveling dress
and drape her with a quilt. Catenhaugh, she reflected drowsily, was by far the
most luxurious residence in which she had dwelt, but it was also one of the
most drafty.
    True to the Duchess’s word, hot water appeared in the guest
apartments at half-past five, and Olivia began her toilette shortly afterward.
At five minutes before six she, with Mrs. Martingale, was left at the door of
the drawing room by Apperset, who had been instructed to watch for the ladies
and direct them. Both had taken some pains with their appearance: Olivia wore
half-mourning of lavender silk, decorated with deep ruching at the hem and
twisted puffs of jet velours coupe at the
sleeves; Mrs. Martingale was handsome in deep blue jaconet and gray spider
gauze, with a widow’s cap of Brussels lace on her fair hair.
    “Are we truly ready, Mamma?” Olivia quizzed, reaching to
straighten a ruffle on her mother’s cap. “I suspicion that we are to be passed
upon,” she added irrepressibly, and opened the door.
    Her estimate of the party’s number was only wrong by two:
aside from the Duchess and her self-effacing companion there were eight others
in the room, and during the flurry of introductions Olivia made a push to sort
them out to her own satisfaction. There were the Ladies Susannah, Katherine,
and Bette, all three of John Temperer’s sisters; the husbands of the two older
sisters, Lord Reeve and Sir David Oningham; an elderly gentleman oddly dressed
in a full-skirted coat and velvet breeches who carried an ear trumpet and was
introduced as Lord David Temperer, the Duchess’s brother-at-law; Lord
Christopher, smiling encouragingly across the room; and finally, his Grace the
Duke of Tylmath.
    His Grace was a tall, narrow man with a beaky, bony face and
an expression of severest disdain, who made it obvious from the start that he
was not disposed to like his brother’s widow. At their introduction he nodded
very coolly, raised his quizzing glass to one eye and observed her as if she
were a particularly uninteresting specimen of plant