In the Garden of Deceit by Cynthia Wicklund

Author:Cynthia Wicklund [Wicklund, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Amazon: B005HFKEJU
Barnesnoble: B005HFKEJU
Publisher: Cynthia Wicklund
Published: 2011-08-15T04:00:00+00:00

***

Aunt Henrietta met Amanda in the drawing room twenty minutes before they were expected at Muriel’s tea party. Henry had not bothered to change from her morning garb, which on the surface would indicate a lack of concern regarding their visit. However, there was a hunted look to her eyes that exposed her real feelings on the matter. Muriel, though treated cordially by James’s paternal relatives, was given a wide berth due to her temperament. No one wanted to tangle with the dowager countess.

Amanda had changed her gown, more from nervous doubt than necessity. She was as uncertain around her mother-in-law as the rest of the family, fairly convinced the woman had little use for her. What was most distressing of all, though, was Muriel’s seeming dislike for her own son. Perhaps indifference was a more accurate term, but that was hardly any better.

The two women left the house and began their trek across the yard toward the dowager’s residence. They were in no hurry, their walk best characterized as an amble, reluctance dogging their steps. Amanda broke the pensive silence.

“I’ve not seen James today.” She hoped she wasn’t revealing how upset she was by that fact.

Henry appeared blithely unaware of Amanda’s distress. “I should think not, my dear, unless you awoke with the dawn.”

No, that’s when she had gone to sleep—finally.

“My nephew had a meeting with his man of business, and he left before the morning meal was served.”

“Where did he go?”

“He met Mr. Smythe in Huxley.”

“Rather than here at Lonsdale?”

Henrietta looked thoughtful. “Strange, isn’t it?”

“I thought a nobleman like my husband was waited on by the business class. My father always goes to his clients. James must be very open-minded in his outlook.”

“He is.”

Amanda searched the older woman’s features, looking for duplicity, for Aunt Henry sounded sincerely proud of her nephew’s liberal views.

Henry glanced at her, seeming to understand Amanda’s doubt. “Huey has made all of us reassess,” she said simply. “He has been treated with much cruelty by people who should know better, people who take their privilege for granted. My brother cannot help how he was born. No one can.”

Which attitude probably explained why the Lonsdales had been so welcoming to her. Feeling a warm wave of gratitude, Amanda smiled.

“So James met Mr. Smythe in Huxley because it was more convenient for Mr. Smythe?”

Aunt Henry returned the smile, her own rather sheepish. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. Going to Huxley probably wasn’t any more convenient for Mr. Smythe than coming to Lonsdale. Huxley is quite close, you see. I think it’s something else, although I don’t know for certain…”

“Go on.”

“I think James can’t bring himself to use his father’s study, his desk, anything that signified ownership by my brother. I think he feels disloyal taking over as though he’s somehow benefitted from Herbert’s passing.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Ah, yes, it is. But how do you make your heart understand what your head already knows? James loved his father dearly. Taking on the earldom has been an obligation rather than a gift.

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