Baroness in Buckskin by Sheri Cobb South Read Free Book Online

she hardly knew whether to feel grateful or mortified.
    “Miss Ramsay,” he said, taking her elbow and leading her forward into the center of the room, “allow me to present Aunt Charlotte Ramsay, Aunt Amelia Ramsay, and Miss Jane Hawthorne. Aunt Charlotte, Aunt Amelia, Cousin Jane—Miss Susannah Ramsay.”
    Stiff curtsies were exchanged all around, during which Susannah felt a feather-light touch against her left eyebrow, and realized her unruly hair had once again slipped its moorings. Noting her Cousin Jane’s elegantly coiffed ash blonde tresses, she thrust her lower lip sharply to the left and let out several huffing breaths, as if she could somehow blow the offending curl back into place—a strategy that had not worked once in eighteen years, but one to which she still sought frequent and hopeful recourse.
    Cousin Jane took Susannah’s hands in welcome. “Cousin Susannah—I may call you cousin, may I not?—you must be famished from the journey. We will dine at eight, but do allow me to offer you something in the meantime. Cakes, perhaps, and tea?”
    “Yes, thank you,” Susannah agreed meekly.
    It was as if the room itself let out its breath. Aunt Amelia (who proved to be the one in mulberry satin, while her sister, Aunt Charlotte, wore purple) moved forward to press a kiss to her cheek, exclaiming, “Let me look at you, my dear. Yes, I believe you have great-grandfather Edward Ramsay’s nose. I wonder I didn’t recognize it at once.”
    “Most likely because it is covered in freckles,” observed Aunt Charlotte, but this criticism was leavened with a hint of a smile. “I hope your journey was not too tedious, and that our Peter took care of you?”
    “Oh, yes! And not only Peter, but everyone has been most kind,” Susannah agreed readily, although some instinct warned her not to mention Betsy, and still less the crew of the Concordia .
    The promised refreshments arrived in short order, and Susannah set to with a will; as Peter had already had cause to discover, she was possessed of a healthy appetite which several hours on the road had done nothing to diminish. Conversation was of necessity scant, as the Ramsay ladies had the courtesy not to ply their young relation with questions while she was eating—or perhaps they had no very great confidence that she would not attempt to answer any such questions with her mouth full.
    In any case, they had not succeeded in learning much about her when the butler appeared, looking uncharacteristically flustered and casting furtive glances at the new arrival. “Miss Hawthorne,” he said, addressing the de facto mistress of the house in an undervoice, “I felt I should warn you—inform you, that is—that his lordship—it is sooner than expected, I know, but—well, miss, the truth of the matter is that Master Richard is here!”
    “What, already?” asked Jane, ignoring the old retainer’s use of Lord Ramsay’s childhood designation. “I had not thought to see him until tomorrow, at the earliest.”
    “Yes, miss. But he is here, sure as I live. He has gone upstairs to freshen up after the journey, but—”
    His gaze darted once more to Susannah, and Jane had no difficulty in interpreting the meaning of that look. Indeed, her own thoughts were running along very similar lines. She had not known quite what to expect out of their American cousin, but given the tone of Mrs. Latham’s letter, she (unlike Peter) had been glad to know that Richard would not be present to witness the arrival of his bride, as she had expected to need a little time to make Miss Ramsay presentable to her future husband. She had thought to begin by taking her to a dressmaker; now, it appeared she would not even have time to drag a brush through the girl’s hair.
    “Thank you, Wilson, but I am sure we shall contrive,” she said with a confidence she was far from feeling. “Pray instruct Antoine to move dinner forward as much as possible, for I am sure his lordship must be quite