Lady Hathaway's House Party by Joan Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

house,” Lady Hathaway assured them both. “And I’ll make sure you get at opposite ends of the table too, to minimize the embarrassment.”
    “There is no embarrassment,” Oliver declared, as he had already begun to figure ways of maximizing the contacts with his wife.
    This was too much philosophy for Belle. “Yes, there is,” she told him bluntly. “And I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Kay.”
    “With Arnold here to partner you about, Belle, there is no—“
    “Just a minute!” Avondale interrupted. “Nobody said anything about Henderson partnering my wife.”
    “But she came with him,” Kay said, and realized immediately the words were out she shouldn’t have.
    “You actually came here with that puppy?” Avondale turned a wrathful eye toward Belle.
    She had already told him this, but he must have misunderstood. “Are you meeting your friend here?” Belle asked sweetly. Oh yes, she knew what went on at these little house parties. “Arnold is a neighbor, you recall, and it was redundant to bring two carriages when we were both coming the same place.”
    “She wouldn’t have come at all otherwise, Oliver,” Kay told him openly.
    He was beyond polite conversation. “It’s that damned jackanapes should be leaving!” he declared. Kay gave him a warning look, and he swallowed the rest of his spleen. It was a large and unappetizing mouthful.
    Kay rattled on to ensure Oliver’s remaining silent till he cooled down. Dear, she’d never seen him so hot under the collar. “And after I told everyone Raffles would be here, he has gone and got the flu, the pest of a man. How he could spend over four years in Java as hale as a horse and then go and get sick in London beats me, but he’s done it. He’s awfully entertaining, you know. I met him at Castlereagh’s. Such a story he was telling us, all about a very secret letter he was having taken to the Susana—or was it the Susanan of Mataram—anyway he was trying to get this fellow to help the British, and the carriers never took the letter at all, but only let on they did and forged an answer. He is full of tales of intrigue and spying in foreign places. He ought to write a book, only he is writing one about flowers instead, I believe.”
    “Ah, is Raffles not to be here? I looked forward to meeting him,” Oliver said. Belle had never heard of him, and wondered who the devil he could be.
    “I got Signora Travalli to come instead,” Kay explained. “She is the new Italian singer, you know. Everyone is talking about her. They say she is very well built, and I daresay the gentlemen will like her well enough. I thought of you, Ollie, when I . . .” She happened to recall her other auditor, and kept right on talking, only altering the end of her speech. “. . . when I asked her, for I remember you always liked to hear a good soprano, and she’s a marvelous singer.”
    “I look forward to hearing her,” he answered, unaware of the near fiasco.
    “Yes, only it is always uncertain paying someone like her to come to a party. One never knows whether she is a guest or an employee. And if the gentlemen take a shine to her, they will expect to see her at the table, and in the saloon.”
    “If you are paying her, then she is not a guest,” Oliver said simply. Much he knew about these things.
    “Well, she is being talked up as one of the on dits of the season in any case, and I hope she is worth the price.” She rather thought this house party would be another on dit, and wondered whether it would be due to a pitched battle raged in public between the Avondales—they’d been at it hammer and tongs when she came out—or due to a reconciliation. She nurtured only the slenderest of hopes that Oliver would remain a gentleman for three days while his wife was courted by Arnold Henderson. Indeed, she even entertained a few fears for Mr. Henderson’s physical safety.
    “Shall we all go in?” Belle asked, and with a straightening of three pairs of shoulders