The Byram Succession by Mira Stables Read Free Book Online Page A

they followed the two older ladies into the drawing room. “Your enthusiasm for a lot of mouldering old bones and stones was most affecting. Very credibly performed. But Papa is no fool. He can detect a sham with the best. So don’t overplay your hand.” And before Alethea, cheeks burning, could protest her sincerity, had strolled across to join her mother and very soon after announced her intention of going early to bed as she had the headache.
    The week that followed gave Alethea little time for brooding over Tina’s unkindness and none at all for sight-seeing. Aunt Maria, having looked over her niece’s wardrobe, decreed an immediate visit to Bond Street.
    “One or two dresses for day wear and another muslin for evenings you must have at once. I am not, in general, an advocate of such hurried buying, but to be honest, my love, you have nothing fit for Town wear. Then Denise shall measure you for the rest.”
    The orgy of shopping that followed was sheer intoxication. As a schoolgirl Alethea had been dressed with appropriate simplicity. Mama, a prudent woman, saw no sense in frittering away her limited resources on girls who had not done growing. There had followed six months of mourning for Cousin Albert. As a result, Alethea had never before bought a gown simply because it enhanced her appearance. Joyously she feasted her eyes on the rich and delicate fabrics displayed for her approval and stood patiently to be fitted while Aunt Maria and Madame Denise discussed the draping of an overskirt or the fall of a sleeve. Then there were bonnets and slippers and gloves to be chosen and even petticoats of gauze and Indian muslin for evening wear, though Aunt Maria had conceded that her own linen shifts and petticoats would do very well for every day.
    Remembering her uncle’s warning, Alethea rather timidly questioned the cost of all this finery, for nothing so vulgar as price was ever mentioned. Aunt Maria only laughed and told her not to trouble her head. It might be better, she decided, to ask Uncle Matthew how matters stood. After all it was Uncle Matthew who held the purse strings and he would soon tell her if she was in danger of outrunning the constable. An attempt to express her gratitude to her aunt for devoting so much of her time to, “rigging me out in prime style, as brother Charles would so elegantly phrase it,” met with no better success.
    “Dear Charles,” said Aunt Maria affectionately. “A pity that he is not here to escort you to parties. How does he go on in Vienna?”
    Had she but known it, Aunt Maria was extremely grateful for the distraction provided by a task that was so much to her liking. Distraction and protection. For not only did she delight in choosing clothes for one so appreciative as her niece, not only was it proving to be a surprisingly rewarding task, but also, when she was with Alethea, Tina left her in peace.
    For Tina was driving her mother hard. Persistently she renewed her demand that Lord Skirlaugh should be invited to Alethea’s début. And this time Mrs. Newton was determined that she would not yield. She steeled herself against tirade and coaxing alike, but it made her miserably unhappy, and only with Alethea did she feel safe from attack, since Tina never mentioned his lordship’s name in front of her cousin.
    Between them, unwittingly, Tina and Lord Skirlaugh served Alethea well. In indulging her excellent clothes sense to the full, Aunt Maria quite forgot that her daughter would scarcely look with approval upon garments that gave the little country cousin a new and unexpectedly charming touch. She threw caution to the winds. Alethea’s coming-out dress was almost finished. It was fashioned in the bergere style made popular by the French queen and Mrs. Newton had chosen for its creation a heavy silk damask, the cost of which would have supported a genuine shepherdess in considerable comfort for several years. Now, in a sudden access of decision, she decreed that its