Brynnde by M. Pepper Langlinais

Author:M. Pepper Langlinais [Langlinais, M Pepper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie Author Project

14

“You aren’t really ill?” Violet asked once they’d lost sight of Belle Weather.

“Not of body,” Brynnde assured. She glanced up at the sky where gray clouds had begun to gather. “We should hurry back in case it rains, else we might both catch ill after all.”

They put all their energy into walking, hardly speaking until they reached Aux Arbres. As they rounded the house and the first droplets made themselves known, Violet voiced the very thought Brynnde had aimed to plant. “It must be difficult, with Mr. Dallweather constantly at hand.”

Brynnde saw how Violet chewed her lip and reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “Yes.” Then, taking a cue from Tessa’s theatrics, she heaved a sigh.

“What is it?” Violet asked. “Oh, no, that is such a stupid question,” she added, then went on, “What can I do to help?”

They achieved the entry hall and before Brynnde could answer Violet’s question Lady Averland sailed out of the drawing room. “Girls! Where in heavens have you been? The storm was coming on—I watched it from the windows and could only worry you would be caught in the torrent!” She turned to Violet. “Your mother would drop me in an instant were I to allow you to fall ill while you are here!”

“We are fine, Maman,” Brynnde said. “Home just in time.” As if on cue, a spate of rain tapped the windows.

“And missed tea,” Lady Averland sniffed as the girls trailed her back to the drawing room.

“We came across Mr. Dallweather on our walk,” Brynnde informed her, striving to keep her tone light, “and took tea with him.”

Lady Averland stopped short so that Brynnde and Violet nearly ran up the back of her. She turned slowly to peer at Brynnde over her shoulder. Then her eyes tracked over to Violet. Each of the girls held her breath and waited.

Abruptly, Lady Averland turned away and once again began her forward march. “Well, then,” was all she said. The girls exchanged uncertain glances before following, drawn on—at least in Brynnde’s mind—by a kind of dread as well as mere force of her mother’s bulk, which had a way of pulling things along in its wake. They’d long since given up keeping good china on tables at hip height.

In the drawing room, Lady Averland arranged herself on one sofa, and as she took up most of the space there, Brynnde and Violet settled on another. “We’re so sorry to delay your tea,” Violet ventured.

“Oh, hardly,” Lady Averland replied with a wave. “Why should I have waited? Who knew when you would be home?”

Brynnde had to purse her lips to keep from smiling.

“How did you find Mr. Dallweather?” her mother asked.

Violet answered before Brynnde could. “Walking.”

Brynnde resorted to biting the insides of her cheeks. She would not smile. “I believe Maman meant to ask whether he was well.”

“Oh.” Violet blushed and ducked her head.

“He was,” Brynnde told her mother. “Well, that is.”

Lady Averland’s eyes remained on Violet.

“And, as we said, kind enough to invite us for tea after our long walk,” Brynnde went on.

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