Marjorie Farrell Read Online Free PDF

Catholic emancipation.
    Lavinia’s pacing slowed and then stopped and she sank into a chair gracefully, twisting her glove in her hand until it resembled a short piece of rope. Wells knocked softly at the door and entered on the viscount’s signal. He set down a tray with sherry and two glasses, and Sam dismissed him with a grateful nod.
    “May I pour you some sherry, Lavinia?”
    Lavinia finally looked at him with those cornflower-blue eyes which had faded only a little over the years. They filled as quickly as they ever had, and she smiled tremulously as she said:
    “Thank you, Sam. I know I have burdened you often over the years with my small problems. You have been a good friend to me…more than a friend, almost a member of the family…”
    Sam bent to pour the sherry. Lavinia had made such subtle and not-so-subtle hints over the past two years. He knew her grief over Charles was genuine and deep, but he also suspected he would be a welcome suitor. As it was, his infatuation, although not his affection, had died years ago, and he had no intention of becoming her second husband. So he tactfully ignored any flirting or helpless glances which he was sure were meant to inspire warmer feelings. He had to admit she did it well, and were he younger, or less well-acquainted with her, he would have been in a fair way to being caught. But he did feel like a member of the family, and he loved her son as though he were his own. So he put up with her foibles, and thought of his friendship with Charles and of his determination that Jeremy not be smothered by her neediness.
    After a few sips of sherry the countess stopped torturing her glove with her free hand and let it rest in her lap, relaxing slightly as the amontillado hit her stomach. She took a deep breath.
    “It must be something rather serious to put you in such a state.”
    “It is worse than anything,” she replied. “I know if dear Charles were here this would never have happened. I must be a terrible mother, or Jeremy could never have done this to me.”
    “Nonsense. You are an excellent mother, and have raised a fine young man. Charles would be very proud of you.”
    “Do you really think so, Sam?” Lavinia, who was, under her affectation of helplessness, truly insecure and in need of constant reassurance, looked up gratefully at Sam.
    “I do. Now, tell me. What has Jeremy done to upset you so? Lost this quarter’s allowance at the tables? Boxed the watch? Taken up with an opera dancer?” Sam knew Jeremy was unlikely to have done any of these things. On the other hand, he couldn’t think of anything Jeremy could have done to upset his mother so.
    “It is far worse than that. Oh, I know you think me inclined to be foolish over him, but this time, Sam, I know you will be in complete agreement. He has fallen in love.”
    At this anticlimactic statement, Sam was dumbstruck. Of all the feather-witted women, he thought, Lavinia was the worst. He tried hard to mask his anger as he said:
    “Lavinia, I know Jeremy has been a great support and comfort to you since Charles’s death, but you cannot depend on him too much, or expect him —”
    “Oh, I know what you are thinking, that I am a pitiful, jealous old woman —”
    “Never old.” Sam smiled.
    “Thirty-nine. Old woman. Who wants to keep her son in leading strings. Of course I know he will fall in love someday. It is all I hope for him that he is lucky enough to make a marriage of mutual affection, like Charles’s and mine.”
    “Then what is the problem?”
    “The problem is, he thinks that he has fallen in love with the daughter of…”
    “A cit?” Sam could think of nothing else that would cause Lavinia to look so horrified.
    “Worse. I don’t even know what you would call her. An…authoress. An Irish authoress to boot! For what kind of name is Dillon if not Irish?” Lavinia spat out the word “Irish” as though it had been “leper.”
    The viscount was torn between amusement and genuine