“Do you expect anything else of a friend of Mother’s? All most of them are concerned about is their own convenience. I was surprised she agreed to convey me this far!”
Sarah had to smile, for it was all too true. All their lives, ever since the death of their father when Sarah was ten years old and Mary Ann and Kitty just babies, they had been dealing with the vagaries of their mother and her empty-headed circle of friends.
“All the same, it was most irresponsible of her,” she said, setting her empty teacup down on the nearest table.
“I felt perfectly safe here,” Mary Ann said. “The innkeeper gave me this lovely parlor to sit in, and the serving maid has been telling me all the local on dits. Besides, I am glad Lady Hammond is gone! You are much merrier company than she is.”
Sarah smiled at her. “I am glad to see you, too, Mary Ann! You are looking very well.”
And she was. Mary Ann had always been the prettiest of the Bellweather girls, with darker eyes, smoother, light brown hair, and a creamy skin untouched with freckles. Her dainty prettiness was set off by her stylish dress of white muslin printed with tiny blue flowers and a pale blue spencer. It was easy to see why their mother had such hopes for Mary Ann on the Marriage Mart.
It was just too bad that she, like Sarah before her, displayed absolutely no interest in Society and a proper Season.
“I have been reading a great deal about the Vikings,” Mary Ann said, holding up her book. It was a study of the Viking voyages of the ninth and tenth centuries, a work Sarah was very familiar with. “I cannot wait to see your village! It sounds a bit like this site in Scotland.”
“I’m very glad you’re so enthusiastic, Mary Ann dear! You will be a great help to us, I am sure. Your sketches are wonderful. But what does Mother say about your studies?”
Mary Ann shrugged blithely. “She does not know! As long as I go to teas and musicales and shops with her, she never notices how many books I take out of the lending library.”
Sarah had a suspicion about why Mary Ann displayed this sudden interest in the Vikings, but she hoped she was wrong. Just in case she was not, though, she said gently, “Mr. Hamilton will be coming back from his wedding trip soon. He will be glad of your assistance, too.”
The animation faded from Mary Ann’s face, and she looked down to her lap. “Yes, that is what the maid said, that the—the Hamiltons are returning soon from Scotland. I must say I was surprised when we got your letter telling us of his marriage. Was it not rather sudden?”
“Perhaps. He did not know Miss Harris very long, to be sure. But sometimes love will not be denied.” Sarah rather suspected that the marriage had more to do with the former Miss Emmeline Harris of Bath’s ten thousand pounds than passionate love. She could hardly say that to Mary Ann, though, remembering her sister’s infatuation.
“No, of course not,” Mary Ann said. She looked up, a fixed smile pinned on her lips. “I am sure you are remembering my silly infatuation of last year, but you needn’t worry. I am quite past that! Mother says I will meet far more dashing men in Town.”
Sarah smiled and nodded, even though she did not believe it. In her own experience, most of the men in Town were silly fools and peacocks, but she didn’t want to dash any of Mary Ann’s new excitement. “You will have your choice of beaux, I’m sure.”
“I am more interested in what’s happening here. The maid told me there is a new marquis at Ransome Hall. Have you seen him yet?”
“Once,” Sarah answered shortly. She didn’t really want to talk about Lord Ransome yet—she was still puzzled and confounded by him, and wanted to think about him some more. “Only briefly. I am sure we will see him while you’re here, though.”
Mary Ann gave her a laughing glance. “The maid said he is handsome, and a dashingly brave Army officer.”
Sarah laughed. “He is
Sarah had to smile, for it was all too true. All their lives, ever since the death of their father when Sarah was ten years old and Mary Ann and Kitty just babies, they had been dealing with the vagaries of their mother and her empty-headed circle of friends.
“All the same, it was most irresponsible of her,” she said, setting her empty teacup down on the nearest table.
“I felt perfectly safe here,” Mary Ann said. “The innkeeper gave me this lovely parlor to sit in, and the serving maid has been telling me all the local on dits. Besides, I am glad Lady Hammond is gone! You are much merrier company than she is.”
Sarah smiled at her. “I am glad to see you, too, Mary Ann! You are looking very well.”
And she was. Mary Ann had always been the prettiest of the Bellweather girls, with darker eyes, smoother, light brown hair, and a creamy skin untouched with freckles. Her dainty prettiness was set off by her stylish dress of white muslin printed with tiny blue flowers and a pale blue spencer. It was easy to see why their mother had such hopes for Mary Ann on the Marriage Mart.
It was just too bad that she, like Sarah before her, displayed absolutely no interest in Society and a proper Season.
“I have been reading a great deal about the Vikings,” Mary Ann said, holding up her book. It was a study of the Viking voyages of the ninth and tenth centuries, a work Sarah was very familiar with. “I cannot wait to see your village! It sounds a bit like this site in Scotland.”
“I’m very glad you’re so enthusiastic, Mary Ann dear! You will be a great help to us, I am sure. Your sketches are wonderful. But what does Mother say about your studies?”
Mary Ann shrugged blithely. “She does not know! As long as I go to teas and musicales and shops with her, she never notices how many books I take out of the lending library.”
Sarah had a suspicion about why Mary Ann displayed this sudden interest in the Vikings, but she hoped she was wrong. Just in case she was not, though, she said gently, “Mr. Hamilton will be coming back from his wedding trip soon. He will be glad of your assistance, too.”
The animation faded from Mary Ann’s face, and she looked down to her lap. “Yes, that is what the maid said, that the—the Hamiltons are returning soon from Scotland. I must say I was surprised when we got your letter telling us of his marriage. Was it not rather sudden?”
“Perhaps. He did not know Miss Harris very long, to be sure. But sometimes love will not be denied.” Sarah rather suspected that the marriage had more to do with the former Miss Emmeline Harris of Bath’s ten thousand pounds than passionate love. She could hardly say that to Mary Ann, though, remembering her sister’s infatuation.
“No, of course not,” Mary Ann said. She looked up, a fixed smile pinned on her lips. “I am sure you are remembering my silly infatuation of last year, but you needn’t worry. I am quite past that! Mother says I will meet far more dashing men in Town.”
Sarah smiled and nodded, even though she did not believe it. In her own experience, most of the men in Town were silly fools and peacocks, but she didn’t want to dash any of Mary Ann’s new excitement. “You will have your choice of beaux, I’m sure.”
“I am more interested in what’s happening here. The maid told me there is a new marquis at Ransome Hall. Have you seen him yet?”
“Once,” Sarah answered shortly. She didn’t really want to talk about Lord Ransome yet—she was still puzzled and confounded by him, and wanted to think about him some more. “Only briefly. I am sure we will see him while you’re here, though.”
Mary Ann gave her a laughing glance. “The maid said he is handsome, and a dashingly brave Army officer.”
Sarah laughed. “He is
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