Chapter 3
Chapter three
Annette
Mother’s strained smile said, in tandem with the look in her eyes, that she expected whatever discord taking place between Rus and myself to cease at once.
I had received hundreds of such silent chastisements throughout the years.
Unfortunately for Mother, I often ignored them, especially when they were given to me at home.
It was one thing to put on a proper facade at a dinner party or ball in London, but here? No, Kenwick was my sanctuary—a place I could be myself, free of judgment. I would not surrender that freedom simply because Lieutenant Paget happened to be here.
My brows furrowed. Why was he here?
“What a surprise!” Rus said, stepping toward our guest. He extended a hand to him. “Welcome to Kenwick, Lieutenant. My father mentioned you would be arriving soon.”
What?
“Annette.” Mother chided in a harsh undertone. Apparently, my shock and displeasure had been unintentionally voiced aloud. Not that I particularly cared if the lieutenant knew how unhappy I was to see him. In fact, I would make a point not to hide it.
“Do not worry, Mother,” Rus said, his lips drawn into a smirk, “I am sure Annette is merely enthused to see her beau after so many months apart.”
“He is not my beau,” I ground out.
Rus folded his arms. “Really? I could have sworn the two of you were spending time together quite regularly not but a few months ago. I can think of no other reason for an eligible lady of virtue to keep frequent company with a gentleman.”
The lieutenant and I had spent a great deal of time together, and we had wished for society to believe we entered a courtship. It benefited us both to have the haut ton assume we were taken with one another.
But my family knew nothing of our ruse, and I intended to keep it that way. Should either of my parents find out, our agreement would become void. I had worked too hard for my independence to throw it away.
Which meant I had no choice but to accept Russell’s taunting and smooth over the situation. “Lieutenant Paget and I shared several wonderful outings, I will not deny, but we both came to the conclusion that the two of us would not suit; therefore, he is not my beau. As I said.”
I narrowed my eyes at Rus, daring him to contradict the statement. I should have known better than to think the matter resolved, but it was not my brother who spoke next.
“Did we come to that conclusion?” asked the lieutenant, his expression all innocence. “I do not recall such a conversation. Quite frankly, I remember your departure rather differently.”
Heat scorched my cheeks. Wretched man. I would just as soon forget our last encounter. If only my mind would allow it.
“Knowing Netty, the conversation was in her head,” said Rus. “It is far easier for her to win arguments that way, you see.”
“Ah.” The lieutenant nodded in agreement. “That is a valid point. I have known Miss Apsley—and all women of my acquaintance, for that matter—to take great joy in coming out the victor in disagreements.”
“They do, don’t they?” Rus added. “I should like to rank the pastime near the top of the list, next to embroidery and nagging one’s male relatives into insanity.”
“Russell,” Mother chided sharply. “You will mind your words. I believe I have taught you to be more respectful to both women and guests.” She turned to Lieutenant Paget. “Forgive our manners and please do not take offense.”
“There is nothing to forgive, my lady.”
Rus’s expression twisted with irritation, and he mumbled, “He cannot be offended if he agrees with me.”
And Lieutenant Paget did agree with my brother if his silent amusement indicated anything. I could tell, because it made the corners of his eyes crinkle.
I forced a smile. “It seems the two of you are well versed in the language of women. What a wonder it is for both of you to remain single. I cannot imagine why a woman shouldn’t overlook a lackluster personality and less than pleasing appearance to marry a man who could understand her so thoroughly. ”
“A pointy barb, dear sister.” Rus held up the tart he’d stolen. “You may have the last word, for I will enjoy the sweetest victory all the same. In fact, I think I shall share my spoils with our guest.”
He turned toward the lieutenant, breaking the tart in half, and handed him a piece.
On second thought, perhaps today would be absolutely brilliant. I could endure the lieutenant’s visit if it meant watching him fall into a pastry trap with my brother. How fortunate that his arrival coincided with Rus’s thievery.
I fought a smile until both of them threw the entire pieces into their mouths. Predictable, indeed.
Edward
During the countless balls and dinner parties I had attended since settling on English soil, not once did I ever fight so hard to control my expression. I would not offend the viscountess on my first day by wincing after tasting a strawberry tart prepared in her kitchen.
In fairness to myself, the tart in question held very little trace of strawberry, as the filling was caked in what must have been a pint of salt.
The Apsleys’ cook was in dire need of help in the kitchen if this was the sort of treats that came from within.
My heart went out to the family for having to endure such hardship, even Miss Apsley.
Until I met her gaze and noticed the smug grin she wore.
Russell Apsley shifted on his feet next to me, his eyes so round he resembled an owl. He pressed a fist to his mouth, and a sort of snorting sound escaped him. I could only assume that he, like myself, was doing his best not to succumb to a fit of coughing or spit the tart out entirely.
I swallowed hard, but the salt had dried my mouth and throat to such an unbearable degree that I choked. My eyes burned with tears. This was worse than drinking seawater, something with which I had a great deal of experience.
“Are they not the best tarts Cook has ever made, brother?” asked Miss Apsley, false innocence in her tone and expression.
Mr. Apsley stared at her, though his eyes appeared to roll into the back of his head more than anything. He spoke, but his voice was raspy. “Helped Cook in the kitchen, did you, Netty?”
Miss Apsley lifted her chin. “I did, as a matter of fact. Perhaps I am not so predictable after all, though I cannot say the same of you.”
She had set him up?
A chuckle escaped me, which only made the dryness in my mouth worse.
Gracious, but I had never wished to cough so badly.
My insides were surely shriveling like a date left to dry in the sun.
At least I could take solace in the fact that the prank had been intended for Mr. Apsley alone.
Not that Annette would forfeit an opportunity to make me miserable.
She must be elated to have killed two birds with one stone with her salt tart, since both Mr. Apsley and I fell for it without suspicion.
My stomach convulsed, and the cough I had been holding in came out forcefully. It did nothing to help the situation, instead making me cough more. As if my body could fix the problem with enough wheezing.
It assuredly could not.
Lady Paxton pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh dear, are the two of you quite all right? Shall I call for something to drink?”
“Yes, Mother,” Mr. Apsley said. “With haste, if you please. I believe Netty has attempted murder.”
Lady Paxton’s eyes darted to her daughter, who had the decency to look a little repentant.
The viscountess left the three of us in the entry hall, and within no more than a minute, a servant ushered through the door holding two glasses of wine.
She offered one to both Mr. Apsley and me, waited for us to down the contents, then left with a curtsy, taking the basket Mr. Apsley had stolen with her.
“Well played, Netty,” said Mr. Apsley. “Well played. But it was bad form to torment our guest. Mother will deliver you a firm scolding for that one, as will Father, I imagine. Mother is probably apprising him of the situation at this very moment.”
Annette crossed her arms over her chest. “I do not care if they scold me. You deserved it.”
“Does that mean I deserved it as well?” I asked.
Those brilliant blue eyes narrowed, and a spark of giddiness speared my chest. I had missed these battles with her. More than I had ever imagined.
“That depends on why you are here,” she said.
I clasped my hands behind my back and cleared my throat, still suffering from the lingering effects of the salt tart.
“I am at a grave disadvantage already, I see. To say I had no intention of coming because of your presence seems massively offensive, and I wouldn’t dare offend you, Miss Apsley.
But that leaves me with only the option to compliment by saying my sole purpose in journeying to Kenwick was for your company and lovely face.
Unfortunately, I suspect you will find that equally distasteful, so I am quite at a loss as to how to respond so as not to incur your wrath. Do advise me.”
She smiled sweetly, though it was hardly genuine. “My advice is that you leave Kenwick post-haste.”
“I shall take it into consideration, of course. But you shan’t mind if I require time to think it over?
After all, I have only just arrived, and your mother has promised me a tour.
I couldn’t possibly disappoint her.” I grinned when irritation lit her features, that uncontrolled passion I had glimpsed before scratching the surface.
Why was she so entirely lovely even when scowling at me?
“Post-haste,” she repeated. “Come morning, I hope you have reached enough clarity to see that it is in everyone’s best interest that you leave.”
“Everyone’s?” Mr. Apsley scoffed. “No, no, no. I am entirely enthused by his presence.”
“Because you know I do not wish for it,” Annette spat.
Mr. Apsley’s brow wrinkled. “Well, of course. There is no need to speak the obvious, Netty. It does make you sound rather dim-witted.”