A Woman's Estate by Roberta Gellis Read Free Book Online

would
know whose duty it was to feed the birds and that Victor and Daphne might help
in the task if they asked politely—but later. Now, she said firmly, it was time
to go inside and meet their grandmama-by-marriage and Aunt Griselda and Uncle
Eustace.
    As she spoke the words, Abigail’s eye caught the faintest
flicker of expression on Empson’s face, a twitch of an eyelid, a quiver at the
corner of his mouth. Had she known the man better, she would have been sure he
was hiding a rather malicious amusement or satisfaction, but it was a most
peculiar reaction. Surely, Abigail thought, there could be no cause for
amusement, malicious or not, in what she had said. She put the puzzle out of
her mind as she nodded assent to the butler’s request to dismiss the waiting
servants, telling herself that she had probably misunderstood the tiny signals
she had seen.
    Not long after Abigail had met Lady Hilda Lydden, however,
she realized that she should have trusted her well-developed instinct. Just a
few minutes after the initial greetings were over, it became apparent to
Abigail that no woman would be less likely to enjoy being called
“grandmama”—which was, no doubt, the cause of Empson’s amusement. And the
ungracious manner with which Hilda scolded Empson because he had not asked
Abigail and the children to wait while he announced them formally was a good
reason for the hint of malicious satisfaction over Hilda’s discomfiture that
she had detected in the butler.
    Instinctively, because she liked Empson for the way he had
accepted her, Abigail had tried to explain away his omission by pointing out,
smilingly, that the butler’s position was awkward. One could not, after all,
expect him to tell a family who had arrived in their own home to wait while
they were announced. In the next moment she wished she had held her tongue.
From the icy silence that greeted her remark, it was very clear that Hilda did
not welcome the reminder that Victor was the new master of Rutupiae and Abigail
its new mistress.
    Beady black eyes bored into her, and Hilda rose slowly to
her feet, fully displaying a clinging gown, which Abigail had already recognized
as being of a color and style more appropriate for a woman thirty years younger
and thirty pounds lighter, and a throat and arms almost covered with expensive
jewelry that urgently needed cleaning. Hilda had tried somewhat unsuccessfully
to conceal the gray in her hair, and that too, was dressed in a too youthful,
too dainty style for her features, which had once been handsome, if heavy.
Worse yet, her face had coarsened with age and weight, which made the fairy
curls more ridiculous than they must have been in her youth.
    “I had hoped to welcome you to Rutupiae,” Hilda said, “but
now I fear you might consider it presumptuous of me, a mere guest , to
welcome you to your own home.”
    The voice jarred on Abigail almost more than the words—high,
harsh and whining all at the same time. Abigail could feel herself stiffen, but
fortunately, before she could burst out with an answer of equal rudeness, a
man’s voice interposed.
    “Mama, Abigail was joking! Oh, I may call you Abigail, may I
not? I am so sorry. Mama has not the slightest sense of humor.”
    On the words the speaker came forward holding out his hand
and smiling. Automatically, Abigail put her hand in his, and he bent gracefully
and kissed it. He was obviously Hilda’s son, he bore a striking resemblance to her.
However, the fact that he was male and in the prime of life made the sharp
black eyes, the slightly hooked nose and the thin although well-shaped lips
combine into remarkable handsomeness.
    “I am Eustace,” he went on, “and this is my sister,
Griselda. You must forgive Mama. When she is nervous, her bark becomes quite
excruciating.”
    Abigail turned her head in Griselda’s direction, but she had
opportunity for no more than a single glance at the tall, awkward-looking girl
before Hilda’s voice again