Sea of Secrets: A Novel of Victorian Romantic Suspense by DeWees Amanda

Author:DeWees, Amanda [DeWees, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Felicity came running up to me as I stood looking for him. The truth must have dawned on her; she was wringing her hands, and tears were starting down her cheeks.

“I had no idea,” she cried, and I believed her. Felicity would not have imagined her cousin capable of such cruelty. “Oh, what must Aunt Gwendolyn think of me? I never would have imagined Herron would be so hateful. If I had known—but how could anyone play Old Crouchback as Papa! You must explain, cousin,” she pleaded. “Tell them that I never intended to hurt them.”

I took her hands to soothe her. “They know it,” I assured her. “I am sure they do not blame you. Go, change your dress. You can make your apologies later, in private, but your stepmother needs you now.”

She fled accordingly, and I was pleased to see her return in less than ten minutes wearing a social smile worthy of the duchess herself. As if nothing unusual had occurred, she set herself to play loo with Lady Van Horne. Had she dissolved into tears in the middle of the drawing room, the evening would have been wrecked past salvaging; as it was, she was able to help her aunt restore a sense of normality.

Lord Claude, too, was helping to reclaim the evening. Lines around his eyes showed strain, but he was perfectly composed; indeed, as he moved from group to group, making certain that glasses were filled, I could see the tension dissipate, and often his remarks, too low for me to hear, were met with laughter. I shook my head in admiration at this family. They were little short of magicians in the skillful way they could avert what promised to be social disaster. As I watched the card players, the duchess caught my eye and made a faint motion of her head that brought me to her side.

“I want to speak to Herron,” she said in an undertone, raising her fanned playing cards to screen her words from the other players. “Will you find him?”

I nodded.

“Good. I shall plead a headache in half an hour. I’ll expect him in my boudoir. Tell him so.”

It took me nearly my allotted time merely to locate Herron. I finally found him on the back terrace outside the long gallery. Inside, servants were already beginning to prepare the room for the ball, and there was a comfortable bustle of dust cloths and floor polish; outside that warmly lit room was a wilderness of cold, darkness, and icy wind. Herron, seeming oblivious to the gale, leaned over the balustrade, staring out to sea.

My breath emerged in smoky puffs as I told him of his mother’s command—for invitation it certainly was not. I could not prevent myself from voicing some of my own indignation as well.

“Whatever were you about, Herron?” I demanded, as we re-entered the house and started through the empty corridors. “That was tantamount to an accusation of your uncle, and before the entire county. Why would you perform such a foolish, hateful prank?”

He laughed shortly.

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