The Tyrant by Patricia Veryan

Author:Patricia Veryan
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781250101419
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

XI

The sunlight slanted benignly through the lofty windows of the crimson saloon. Two of the panes were broken and had been boarded, but by and large the dilapidations in this irregularly shaped chamber were minor, and if the furnishings were far from new, they were, at least, comfortable. The company did much to compensate for the shabby surroundings. Captain Otton was dashing in a dull-red coat lavishly trimmed with gold lace, his powdered hair constrained by a red riband; Sinclair presented a neat, if shy, appearance in a tie-wig and a coat of bottle-green that was beginning to show signs of being outgrown across the shoulders, and Meredith was elegant in a peerlessly tailored coat of dark brown velvet over a waistcoat of brown-and-cream brocade and cream small clothes. Lucille Carruthers wore a violet-blue robe à la française with violets in her high-coiffed and powdered hair, and when Phoebe’s pomona-green sarsenet-and-Alençon lace, and her mother’s dove-grey satin were added to the rest, the room was a rainbow of colours.

Otton was in rare form and soon had them all laughing. Mrs. Carruthers seemed happy on this warm summer evening, but confided to Phoebe that she was afraid Meredith would be angry because Jeffery had not yet returned.

“I doubt he will be cross,” said Phoebe. “After all, your son is helping in the search for rebels, and—”

“But he is not, Miss Ramsay. Hilary Broadbent dropped in whilst you were changing your dress, and complained to Meredith that Jeffery only put in a token appearance, and then wandered off somewhere. Broadbent felt we should be doing more to help the military.”

‘Oh, dear!’ thought Phoebe.

Jeffery arrived just in time for dinner and hurried into the saloon, shooting the lace at his wrists, his fair hair gleaming here and there through powder that had obviously been hastily applied. He slanted a guilty glance at his brother’s face, and watching Meredith’s grim expression, Phoebe thought it would be an appropriate time for the lady with the rose to make an appearance. Between his worries for his rebel friend, his rebellious brother, the Squire’s poisoned hounds, and his soon-to-be-terminated betrothal, he stood in dire need of some moral support.

“He’s tough as steel, you know,” murmured an amused voice at her side. “And surely it cannot be as bad as you think.”

Otton was offering a glass of ratafia. She accepted the glass but did not return his smile, looking at him steadily as she said, “It is very bad, Captain Otton.” She was about to request the favour of a few words in private with him when she saw that his lazily mocking gaze had already left her.

“Jove,” he said. “See what you mean!”

A hush had fallen over the group. Apprehension seized Phoebe in a vise as the same Captain of dragoons who had found them in the cave marched purposefully across the room, an agitated Conditt hovering behind him, and two troopers waiting in the doorway.

His tricorne under one arm, the Captain said, “My regrets for the intrusion, Carruthers.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.