Susan Squires - 02 The Companion by Susan Squires

Author:Susan Squires
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The hackney coach stopped in front of number 27 Curzon Street. Beth looked up at the imposing stone front of the house, her emotions wound tight in her chest. Her nerves were still a-jangle from a day and a half on the Mail Coach with Mrs. Pargutter up from Portsmouth. She wondered how she would have supported the voyage had that lady not succumbed to seasickness. She'd been relieved to part company. Yet now that she had reached her destination, her mind was even more agitated. Had her letter arrived to inform Lady Celia Rangle of her coming? Would her aunt welcome her or view her as some sad trial? Was she even in London?

Beth heaved a breath and let it out. The door to the coach opened. The driver handed her down.

She stood uncertainly on the walk in front of the door as he unstrapped her trunks and piled them in a heap. The knocker was on the door, so her aunt was at home. Best get on with it. She could not stand forever in the street without attracting attention. Indeed, several people passing had looked at her with disapproval. She was already feeling out of place.

Paying the coachman, she stepped forward and raised the knocker. It sounded dreadfully importuning as it banged against the plate. The butler who answered it looked down at her from a height well above six feet, his mouth dour. He was an older man, his shoulders slightly stooped, one of those retainers who had been with Lady Rangle so long that he felt proprietary about her time and attention. Beth searched for a name. She had seen him several times.

"Edwards, is my aunt at home?" Did he remember her?

Recognition dawned in his eyes, followed close on by disapproval. He could hardly deny someone with a direct relationship, but he could frown his censure of luggage heaped in the street.

"She is resting, Miss Elizabeth." He paused to emphasize his coming generosity. "However, I will have the underfootman take your things up to the blue bedroom." He stepped aside to let her in with great condescension. "You may wait in the drawing room."

She was expected, or taking her luggage to a bedroom would be out of the question. Beth stripped off her tan leather gloves and unbuttoned her russet pelisse as she looked about her. The town house was furnished in the latest style, always. Lady Rangle refurbished it continually to be slap up to the echo of fashion. Just now, with all the interest in the French exploration of Egyptian antiquities, that meant the entry hall and indeed what Beth could see of the front saloon were crowded with faux Egyptian pieces. Crouching cats held up the table upon which visiting cards were scattered. A most uncomfortable-looking pair of wooden chairs on U-shaped legs flanked a trio of ceremonial lances striped with lapis lazuli. She half-expected to see a mummy laid out upon the sofa in the large room where Edwards led her.

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