Masquerade by Nancy Moser

Author:Nancy Moser
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Christian, ebook, General, Historical, Fiction, Religious
ISBN: 0764207512
Publisher: Bethany House
Published: 2010-08-01T05:00:00+00:00

“And this is Mrs. Charles Sonomish, Mrs. Thomas Standish, and Mrs. Reginald Byron.”

Charlotte executed a curtsy. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies.”

“My, my, Gertrude, she is a lovely thing.”

“Conrad should be very pleased.”

“To think you found her across the pond. How extraordinary.”

It was as though Charlotte need not even be present. She felt like a pretty bauble, acquired to be admired.

“She has good teeth too.”

All heads turned in Beatrice’s direction.

“That will be enough, Beatrice.”

She shrugged as the ladies settled into the chairs of the music room.

Mrs. Sonomish removed her gloves and tucked them between skirt and chair. “I’m sure it is a delight for you to have another young woman in the house, Beatrice.”

“Oh yes,” she said with an intensity that negated whatever she would say next. “I’ve always wanted a sister.”

She offered Charlotte a pulled smile that surely revealed its duplicity to all in the room.

Mrs. Tremaine began pouring the beverage. The smell of coffee permeated the room. “Before the season fully begins, we’re having a proper party for Miss Gleason to introduce her to society, but I wanted you ladies—being my special friends—to meet her first.” She gazed at Charlotte. “I don’t know how such things work in Wiltshire, but here in New York the season begins on the fifteenth of November and ends on January fifteenth.”

“Of course, the late winter is then consumed by charity balls,” Mrs. Sonomish said. “Are you good at needlework and such?”

Charlotte was relieved she could honestly answer in the affirmative. “I can sew a bit.”

“Good, for during charity season there is an endless need for items to sell at the events.”

“As if the world needs another doily or pillow sham,” Beatrice said.

Her mother flashed her a look.

“In the summer when the heat gets oppressive here, we all go to Newport for their season,” Mrs. Byron added.

“Heaven forbid we miss a ball,” Beatrice said under her breath.

But for a spare glance the ladies ignored her.

Mrs. Byron returned her cup to her saucer. “Tell me, Miss Gleason, do you miss your family back in Hampshire?”

“Wiltshire,” Charlotte corrected.

“Hampshire, Wiltshire …” Beatrice said. “Miss Gleason doesn’t miss her family because she keeps in vigorous touch with them. Didn’t you send them a letter this very day?”

The way she looked at Charlotte … Mary had mentioned seeing Beatrice in the hall when she was switching the letters. Did Beatrice know more than she let on?

Mrs. Tremaine answered for Charlotte. “Indeed. Miss Gleason is a good daughter and wrote a letter to her parents.”

“That is indeed commendable,” Mrs. Standish said. “It’s of utter importance for a daughter to be on amiable terms with her parents.” Her eyes passed over Beatrice.

The point was made and acknowledged. Charlotte hoped Beatrice would remain silent—and for once, that’s just what she did.

Mrs. Tremaine offered a plate of shortbread cookies. “Miss Gleason is an accomplished pianist. That’s why I decided to have our soiree here in the music room.”

“Oh, do play for us,” Mrs. Standish said.

Charlotte felt the blood drain from her face.

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