The Keys of Love by Barbara Cartland Read Free Book Online Page B

Henrietta with a mixture of astonishment and dismay, now turned her stare on Lady Butterclere.
    â€œJust who are you referring to as the other half?” she demanded grimly.
    â€œWhy, a certain class of character such as that of Miss Reed and yourself, not to mention Mr. Bragg that is alien to our own,” she replied haughtily.
    â€œNow see here ” began Mrs. Poody angrily when she was silenced by a quick look from Henrietta.
    â€œI am sure I had no idea I was so interested in such things,” murmured Miss Foss wonderingly.
    â€œWell, you are,” declared Lady Butterclere firmly.
    Miss Foss’s beady eyes half closed for a moment. When they reopened she seemed to have grasped what was now expected of her.
    â€œYes, I’d love to know what your life is like,” she now addressed Henrietta. “I suppose you stay up all night in bars and smoke and drink and I daresay you’ve had lots of affairs with unsuitable men?”
    Henrietta was dumbstruck by her question and it was Eddie who mischievously answered for her.
    â€œShe’s broke many a heart twixt here and Dixie!”
    Henrietta rounded on him.
    â€œEddie!”
    Mrs. Poody rapped him on the knuckles with the sugar spoon.
    â€œYou could make trouble with remarks like that!”
    Romany Foss, however, was intrigued, as her eyes roved over Henrietta’s costume.
    â€œI’ve broken a heart or two myself, “she admitted finally, “but I’m not going to break any more, because I’m going to be married soon in England.”
    â€œCongratulations,” mumbled Henrietta.
    â€œWho to?” asked Mrs. Poody doubtfully.
    â€œOh, a Duke,” preened Miss Foss.
    â€œMy stepbrother, the Duke of Merebury,” enlarged Lady Butterclere.
    â€œStepbrother?” wondered Mrs. Poody with an air of innocence. “You are not Merebury blood yourself, then?”
    Lady Butterclere bridled at the implication that she herself might not be of aristocratic lineage.
    â€œThe present Duke’s father died young. His mother then married Sir Archibald Gwyneth, who was a widower with one child myself. The Gwyneths are an ancient well established family in Monmouthsire.”
    â€œOh, I’m sure, I’m sure,” nodded Mrs. Poody with a wicked smile.
    â€œUnfortunately,” carried on Lady Butterclere, “the Duke’s grandfather did not approve of his daughter-in-law remarrying at all and so he cut her out of his will. Which is just why I never inherited anything from the Merebury fortune through my stepmother.
    â€œAnd which is why I became somewhat estranged from the present Duke. He didn’t live with his mother and my father, but remained with his grandfather at Merebury.
    â€œIt was only when he inherited the title three years ago that he contacted me, feeling that his late mother and I, his stepsister, had been unfairly treated. Which is certainly the case and I am delighted that he is now so well aware of his obligations towards me.”
    â€œHe’s awfully good-looking,” simpered Miss Foss with a yearning sigh. “I’ve seen his photograph. He has raven-black hair and dark eyes and he’s six foot tall.”
    As Henrietta listened intently, the élan induced by her success that evening drained from her, drop by drop.
    A curious feeling rose in her breast a kind of pain, insidious and unpleasant. It was a moment or two before she realised that it was jealousy , pure and simple.
    Jealousy of Miss Foss and her raven-haired Duke.
    She raised her fan and held it to her face, moving it to and fro as if to cool her burning cheeks.
    She wished Miss Foss would stop her eulogy about the Duke.
    â€œHe’s very rich and generous and he could have had anyone he chose but he chose me,” she continued.
    â€œWhen did he propose?” asked the Captain.
    Miss Foss now looked a little flustered. She threw a nervous grimace towards Lady