Chapter 70
SEVENTY
Ravenglass
Honor
Honor stood beside her father and Jesse at the foot of the stairs and watched as Geneva finally descended.
Both men looked up at her and smiled, and it wasn’t the perfunctory, absentminded smile men often gave to female relations.
It was genuine admiration, even pride. What was it about Geneva that inspired such devotion?
She had always been their father’s favorite, and Jesse had had eyes only for her from the moment he’d set foot inside Bellamy Hall.
Rory was besotted too, and even now probably harbored hope that Geneva would change her mind and run away with him.
Despite the vast differences in their upbringing, their social standing, and their views, he loved her and would bend over backwards to make her happy if she allowed it.
When Honor looked in the mirror, she saw a girl who was lovely and spirited, but she wasn’t aloof like Geneva.
Was it that she gave too much away, while Geneva managed to keep everyone slightly off balance, even their father?
Why were some women magnets for admiration while others were quietly overlooked?
She hated giving in to jealousy, but the truth was that, even though Geneva had not chosen this path, she was still getting the better end of the bargain.
She would marry their handsome cousin, inherit the family’s titles and wealth, and one day become the matriarch of the Bellamy family.
Honor, meanwhile, was to be shipped off to Switzerland with Rose to be polished, as if she were a gem of the wrong size and cut and did not shine brightly enough to attract the right husband.
Perhaps Rose needed polishing, but Honor thought she was perfectly fine as she was.
Her turbulent thoughts broke apart as the guests began to arrive.
Douglas welcomed them warmly and introduced them to Jesse.
He beamed at the younger man as though welcoming a long-lost son, and Honor supposed he was the closest thing now that his own boys were gone.
Jesse was her father’s last hope, and he was clearly relieved to find that he wasn’t some rough-and-tumble yokel from the frontier towns Honor had seen in American films, like The Silent Call or The Broken Spur.
That was what she had imagined when she’d first heard he had been raised in Montana.
But Geneva, as usual, had luck on her side.
No rough rustic for her, but a man who charmed everyone he met and made their father glow with pride.
Honor felt a little better when she spotted Rose.
She loved her cousin dearly, but Rose was as determined as she was awkward.
No matter how much Aunt Clarissa harangued her, Rose remained a funny duckling rather than the graceful swan her mother kept hoping for.
She simply needed time, Honor thought with a generosity that surprised her.
Rose would come into her own; everyone blossomed at their own pace.
She had little interest in marriage and still clung to childish pursuits, like spying on the adults and eavesdropping on their conversations, just as Geneva and Honor had done together when they were little.
Rose liked to know things. Perhaps it was her way of gaining a measure of control over a world in which no one ever asked for her opinion.
The gong for supper finally sounded, and the guests filed into the dining room.
Jesse sat to her father’s right, Geneva to his left.
Aunt Clarissa bristled as she took her place farther down the table, clearly believing she ought to be nearer her brother to demonstrate her importance.
Honor did not care where she sat. She did not expect to enjoy the evening until the men had finished their brandy and cigars and rejoined the ladies in the drawing room.
Then the carpet would be rolled back and Jesse’s records played on the gramophone.
She could hardly wait to dance, and she felt a pang of sympathy that Rose would miss the only fun part of the evening.
Honor met Rory’s eyes across the table and smiled. His brow furrowed as he returned her gaze, but she wanted nothing more from him than a little mischief and a chance to strike back at the people who considered her inconsequential. Tonight, she would be the cat among the pigeons.