Lady's Companion by Carla Kelly

Author:Carla Kelly
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Signet
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Twelve

I am babbling, she thought desperately. I hope no one notices. She managed a glance at the vicar, and saw, to her amazement, that he was regarding her seriously, as though she were speaking the greatest wisdom since Solomon. The bailiff would be laughing to my face, she thought as she smiled at Mr. Hepworth.

Her store of idle chatter seemed endless, and she could only thank generations of Hamptons who had probably small-talked their way from Hastings to the present. What's bred in the bone will come out of the mouth, she decided grimly as she gave the vicar the advantage of her dimple, tried not to catch Lady Bushnell's much-too-observant eyes, and spouted magnificent nonsensicals worthy even of Sir Rodney.

So help me, Mr. Hepworth, you could toss in the idle comment here and there, she thought later as the visit wore on and she found herself reaching an end to her store of trivia. To her dismay, the vicar appeared to bask in her prattle as he ate one macaroon after another and held out his cup for more tea. There was no help from Lady Bushnell, who sipped her tea, and seemed content to gaze out the window, particularly at such times when her shoulders began to shake.

Susan was considering prayer for divine intervention when she glanced at the clock. She set down her cup. "Mr. Hepworth, haven't you Evensong in an hour?" she asked, grateful as never before for the practices of her church.

"Oh, my!" he exclaimed, setting down his cup with a click that made her wince. He scrambled to his feet and looked about in confusion for his hat, reminding Susan more than ever of a marsh bird. Lady Bushnell had by now devoted her entire attention to the view outside the window, and was making small sounds vaguely incompatible with her customary dignity.

It was a small matter to see him to the door, accept his profoundest farewells, and focus her attention on the chandelier when he nearly tripped over the design in the carpet. Only when the vicar was on his horse and galloping toward Quilling as though pursued by revenue men did Susan dare return to the sitting room and Lady Bushnell.

The widow sat with her hands folded quietly in her lap, but her eyes gave her away. In another moment her hand went to her mouth as she motioned to Susan to shut the door. She began to laugh first, a hearty, come-from-the-toes, infectious kind of laugh that Susan was powerless to resist, even had she wanted to. She joined in, laughing until she had to wipe her eyes and clutch her middle, complaining of too-vigorous lacing.

"Lady Bushnell, I had no idea that taking tea with you would be so perilous to my sorry store of clever chitchat," she said finally, when she could speak.

"And I had no idea that one man could drink so much tea, eat so many macaroons, and gaze with such adoration," Lady Bushnell retorted.

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