Love in the Afternoon (The Hathaways #5)(20)

Audrey looked dubious. His mother looked angry.

Christopher drank his tea in the ensuing silence. It tore at his heart to see the changes in both women. They were both thin and pale. His mother’s hair had gone white. No doubt John’s prolonged illness had taken a toll on them before his death, and nearly a year of mourning had finished the job.

Not for the first time, Christopher thought it a shame that the rules of mourning imposed such solitude on people, when it probably would have benefited them to have company and pleasant distractions.

Setting down her half-finished cup of tea, his mother pushed back from the table. Christopher rose to help her with the chair.

“I can’t enjoy my tea with that beast staring at me,” she said. “At any moment, it could leap forward and rip my throat out.”

“His leash is tied to the furniture, Mother,” Audrey pointed out.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s a savage creature, and I detest it.” She swept out of the room, her head high with indignation.

Freed of the necessity for good manners, Audrey rested an elbow on the table and leaned her hand on her chin. “Your uncle and aunt have invited her to stay with them in Hertfordshire,” she said. “I’ve encouraged her to accept their offer. She needs a change of view.”

“The house is too dark,” Christopher said. “Why are all the shutters closed and the curtains drawn?”

“The light hurts her eyes.”

“The devil it does.” Christopher stared at her with a slight frown. “She should go,” he said. “She’s been holed up in this morgue for far too long. And so have you.”

Audrey sighed. “It’s almost been a year. Soon I’ll be out of full mourning and I can go into half-mourning.”

“What is half-mourning, exactly?” Christopher asked, having only a vague notion of such female-oriented rituals.

“It means I can stop wearing veils” Audrey said without enthusiasm. “I can wear gray and lavender dresses, and ornaments without shine. And I may attend a few limited social events, as long as I don’t actually appear to be enjoying myself.”

Christopher snorted derisively. “Who invents these rules?”

“I don’t know. But heaven help us, we must follow them or face the wrath of society.” Audrey paused. “Your mother says she won’t go into half-mourning. She intends to wear black for the rest of her life.”

Christopher nodded, unsurprised. His mother’s devotion had only been strengthened by death. “It’s clear that every time she looks at me,” he said, “she thinks I should have been the son she lost.”

Audrey opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. “It was hardly your fault that you came back alive,” she said eventually. “I’m glad you’re here. And I believe that somewhere in her heart, your mother is glad as well. But she’s become slightly unbalanced during the past year. I don’t think she’s always entirely aware of what she says or does. I believe some time away from Hampshire will do her good.” She paused. “I’m going to leave, too, Christopher. I want to see my family in London. And it wouldn’t be appropriate for the two of us to stay here unchaperoned.”

“I’ll escort you to London in a few days, if you like. I had already planned to go there to see Prudence Mercer.”

Audrey frowned. “Oh.”

Christopher gave her a questioning glance. “I gather your opinion of her has not changed.”

“Oh, it has. It’s worsened.”

He couldn’t help but feel defensive on Prudence’s behalf. “Why?”

“For the past two years, Prudence has earned a reputation as a shameless flirt. Her ambition to marry a wealthy man, preferably a peer, is known to everyone. I hope you have no illusions that she pined for you in your absence.”

“I would hardly expect her to don sackcloth while I was gone.”

“Good, because she didn’t. In fact, from all appearances you slipped from her mind completely.” Audrey paused before adding bitterly, “However, soon after John passed away and you became the new heir to Riverton, Prudence evinced a great deal of renewed interest in you.”

Christopher showed no expression as he puzzled over this unwelcome information. It sounded nothing like the woman who had corresponded with him. Clearly Prudence was the victim of vicious rumors—and in light of her beauty and charm, that was entirely expected.

However, he had no desire to start an argument with his sister-in-law. Hoping to distract her from the volatile subject of Prudence Mercer, he said, “I happened to meet one of your friends today, when I chanced upon her during a walk.”

“Who?”

“Miss Hathaway.”

“Beatrix?” Audrey looked at him attentively. “I hope you were polite to her.”

“Not especially,” he admitted.

“What did you say to her?”

He scowled into his teacup. “I insulted her hedgehog,” he muttered.

Audrey looked exasperated. “Oh, good God.” She began to stir her tea so vigorously that the spoon threatened to crack the porcelain cup. “And to think you were once renowned for your silver tongue. What perverse instinct drives you to repeatedly offend one of the nicest women I’ve ever known?”