The Lie and the Lady by Kate Noble Read Free Book Online

quarter past,” Leticia said, spying Sir Barty checking the mantel clock again.
    â€œSilly standing on this formality,” Sir Barty grumbled, but she could tell by the pink of his cheeks and the direction of his gaze (downward) that he was embarrassed. “It’s just family, after all.”
    â€œFamily should dine together, don’t you think, darling?” Leticia replied softly but firmly.
    â€œShe likely was never informed—or she forgot. She’s a forgetful girl, her mind on other matters.”
    â€œShe was informed, dearest. I did it myself.”
    He looked up at that, his bushy eyebrows climbing up to his hairline. “Oh. So you—”
    â€œYes, I met Margaret earlier. But only briefly.” She watched as Sir Barty pinked with embarrassment. “Still, even for an absentminded person, a new stepmother is not something you simply forget.”
    She would let Sir Barty wallow in his shame for a little bit. Not too long, but enough to realize his mistake in not giving either Margaret or Leticia fair warning about the other.
    Leticia rose and cross the room to the terrace doors—thrown open to allow some of the lovely summer breeze in. She was about to subject herself to the garden again and go tramping out into the twilight to where she could see the glow of a lamp in the greenhouse—when suddenly the lamp went out and the young woman herself emerged.
    â€œThere, you see?” Sir Barty said from behind Leticia, the relief palatable in his voice. “She’s on her way now.”
    As she crossed the lawn, Leticia could see that Margaret could be quite pretty, in the right light. Her features were proportional and her complexion was that of the English rose, typified by lovely country girls. Which was a relief, because her height made her mannish enough, and the braid swinging behind her like a cat’s tail indicated her level of fury. Which at the moment was quite high.
    She also was still wearing the dirt-covered dress and apron from before. However, in deference to either the company or the night breeze, she had untied the gown from the knees and let it drape to its full length—which was just to the girl’s ankles.
    Leticia’s lips pressed into a thin line of their own volition before she forced them into a more serene, welcoming expression.
    She would not have the first thing Margaret Babcock saw of her tonight be displeasure.
    However, it seemed that Margaret Babcock would barely see Leticia at all. When she did appear in the doorway off the terrace, oh, she gave the proper curtsy of course, but her gaze pointedly did not even flit over Leticia’s face. Instead she remained utterly focused on her father.
    â€œHello, Father,” she said, her chin out in stubborn defiance. He held his arms open, but the girl crossed hers over her chest, unmoved. Sir Barty lowered his arms with a heartbroken little sigh, then held out a hand to Leticia.
    â€œMargaret, I understand you have met Lady Churzy,” Sir Barty said carefully. “We are going to be married.”
    Margaret’s eyes stayed firmly on her father’s, refusing to even acknowledge Leticia was in the room.
    â€œIt’s a pleasure to meet you, Margaret,” Leticia said. “Properly, this time. I do hope that we shall be great friends.”
    â€œI had thought she was joking.” Margaret raised her quizzical brow to her father.
    â€œNow, Margaret . . .” her father said.
    Leticia kept her expression neutral, although rarely had she heard such rudeness. Even when she had been a miller’s daughter trying to make a good match in London, the cuts she heard then were not comparable to the tongue of Miss Margaret Babcock.
    â€œI thought it was a joke, because my mother is barely cold in the ground,” she went on.
    â€œMargaret, it has been two years,” Sir Barty admonished harshly, but wearily. Either they’d had this fight