Blackmoore(74)

The settee creaked again. “I am no simpleton. I had the solicitor up there last summer. My father’s condition was already deteriorating, and the solicitor agreed with me that it was in the best interest of everyone involved to make any final changes at that point, before more of his memory was lost.

My father was easily persuaded to sign the new will. And the best part is, he does not even remember anything about it!” Mrs. Delafield laughed lightly.

My stomach churned. “Now it is done, and if Henry tries to marry one

of those Worthington girls, or anyone else I do not approve of, he will lose Blackmoore—the house, the estate, and the living that goes with it. It will all go to George.”

I felt sick. The smell of the peonies near me was suddenly so revolting to me that I wanted to retch. I leaned against the wall, needing the support I found there.

225



J u l i a n n e D o n a l D s o n

“I can see that I have underestimated you,” the aunt said.

“Quite.” Mrs. Delafield sounded so pleased with herself; so smug. I felt I was suffocating in the folds of these drapes. .

“I have told you this in the strictest of confidences,” Mrs. Delafield said. “I have not told Henry yet. I do not want to unless it’s necessary.”

“Of course! There is not a young man alive who takes to the idea of being kept on a short leash.”

“True.” She paused and then said, “I know how to spot the enemy at the

gates, sister. And I know how to guard against it. You should not have doubted me.”

“As long as you have things under control, I will be content.”

“Believe me, I always have things under control.”

L

I could not remember, later, how long I hid behind those heavy drapes,

waiting for the women to leave. They talked of other things while I tried to breathe without smelling the flowers that made me want to retch. Sweat was dripping from my forehead when they finally stood and left the room. I waited a few moments before slipping from the room, sick with shame and devasta-tion. I saw Henry down the hall, but there were many guests all trying to escape the heat of the ballroom through the french windows. He called my name and tried to reach me, but I turned from him and fled through the crowd.

Nobody noticed when I walked to the edge of the lawn and just kept

walking. I walked home through the woods with only the full moon for company, and I shivered in the cool air. Nobody noticed when I opened the back door of our house and walked up the stairs to my room. And there, in my

room, sat the model of Blackmoore. A gift. A dream. A future that I would never have, no matter how much I wanted it.

I sat on the floor and slowly unlaced my boots, taking them off one at a time. I stood and stared at the model. I had not cried during that whole walk home. But now I was suddenly furious. I threw my boot at the model, and it 226



sailed over the top of it. I threw the next one, harder, and it crashed through the roof, splintering the wood. I felt better for two seconds.

And then my anger returned, hot and implacable. I threw open the door

of my room and marched down the hall to Eleanor’s. I opened her door without knocking. She looked up from the stool in front of her dressing table, where she sat brushing her hair.

“Good heavens! Whatever is the matter, Kitty?”

She had come home one week earlier, and there had been hours of hushed

conversations between her and Mama, which I had not been able to listen in on. But now I wanted the truth. I deserved the truth.

“I want to know exactly what happened at Brighton.”

She carefully set down the brush and smoothed her hair, pushing it back

behind her shoulders before answering me.

“I tried to secure a marriage proposal, and I failed. That is all.”

I moved closer, leaning down to look into her eyes so that she could see exactly how furious I was.

“How did you try? How did you fail? What precisely was the scandal?”

She pursed her lips, regarding me for a long moment, until I wanted to

scream with impatience. Finally she said, “I will tell you this only because you may want to try it for yourself some day. I stole into Lord Rule’s bedchamber and waited for him one night.”

I staggered back a step. “No,” I whispered.

“It did not work because his valet discovered me and alerted Lady

Covington to the situation. She got rid of me before I had a chance to see Lord Rule.” She sighed and picked up her brush again. “But it is no matter. I will simply try again, with someone else.”

I clutched the bedpost, feeling the need of something steady to keep myself upright.

“You thought to entrap him? So that he would be forced to marry you?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Kitty! It is not so bad. Besides, it wasn’t even my idea. It was Mama’s.”

I could not understand her, nor did I want to. But I did want her secrets.

227



J u l i a n n e D o n a l D s o n

“Speaking of Mama,why has Mrs. Delafield had such a hatred toward her

these last few years?”

Eleanor went back to brushing her thick dark hair. “Didn’t you know?

Mrs. Delafield caught Mama flirting with Mr. Delafield, and she cannot