LITMIR.BIZ

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he might need—the butler, the housekeeper and so on. Tallie watched him, noting the way his heavy-lidded grey eyes flickered indifferently over Brooks and Mrs Wilmot.

      ‘And this is a distant cousin of mine, Miss Thalia Robinson, who resides here and keeps an eye on things for me.’ Insignificant poor relation who hangs on my sleeve, depending on my charity, said her tone, dismissively.

      Tallie smiled and curtsied. The cold grey eyes rested on her for a bare half-second and moved on. Tallie flinched, knowing that in a single glance Lord d’Arenville had noticed the freckles, the pointy nose and the crooked tooth, and despised her. He hadn’t even glanced at her nice nails. No gallant knight, he, but a cruel count, coldly plotting the heroine’s downfa— Enough!

      Tallie watched his progression into the house with rueful disappointment. Mrs Wilmot was right. The man acted as if he expected the whole world to fall at his feet, while he would not so much as notice if it crumbled to dust right under his long, aristocratic nose! She wondered which of the young ladies was his intended. She had not taken to any of them, but she could not imagine anyone wishing to wed this arrogant Icicle.

      ‘Thalia!’ Her cousin sounded annoyed. Tallie hurried inside.

      ‘You called, Cousin Laetitia?’ She did not allow herself to look at Lord d’Arenville, although she was very aware of him standing close by.

      ‘I thought I made myself clear!’ Her cousin gestured crossly.

      Tallie looked upwards and repressed a grin. Three small heads were poking through the railings in complete defiance of the orders which Laetitia had issued to the nursery. Children were neither to be seen nor heard during the house party.

      ‘I’ll see to it at once, Cousin.’

      ‘Your children, Tish?’ His voice was deep and resonant. In a warmer-natured man it could be very appealing, thought Tallie irrelevantly as she gathered her skirts to run up the stairs.

      ‘Do they not wish to come down?’ he added.

      Tallie paused and looked at him in surprise. The Icicle was interested in her cousin’s children? No, for he seemed wholly engrossed in removing a speck of fluff from his sleeve.

      ‘No, they do not,’ said Laetitia quickly. ‘It is high time they went to bed, and it is one of Thalia’s little duties to see that they do so. Thalia! If you please!’

      Tallie ran quickly up the stairs, biting her lip to prevent the retort she knew would escape if she stayed a moment longer. Time they were in bed, indeed! At five o’clock in the afternoon? And one of her little duties? Amongst the other hundred or so her cousin daily required of her in exchange for bed and board. She reached the second landing where two little girls and a boy were sitting. Watched by two pairs of eyes, she lifted up the toddler, took the other little girl by the hand and headed for the nursery, the small boy jumping and hopping on ahead.

      ‘Now, Magnus,’ said Laetitia, ‘Brooks will show you to your room, and you can prepare yourself to meet my other guests in the drawing room at about six. Brooks, have hot water sent to his lordship’s room immediately. And…brandy, Magnus? Or would you prefer a cup of tea?’

      ‘A refreshment tray has already been sent up, madam, with hot tea and coffee, sandwiches and brandy,’ said Brooks. ‘And the hot water is awaiting his lordship.’

      ‘Oh, er, good. Well-done, Brooks,’ said Laetitia.

      ‘Miss Tallie saw to it all, madam. She does the same for all the guests,’ said Brooks, hiding a smile. Just another of her little duties. He felt the cold gaze of Lord d’Arenville on him and his face pokered up into its usual butlerish impassivity.

      ‘If you would care to follow me, your lordship. Madam has put you in the Blue Room, as usual.’

      ‘Thalia, you must dine at table this evening. That wretch Jimmy Fairfax has brought two friends with him and we have a shortage of ladies. And did you tell Cook that we must have goose as well as the capons? I have no time to discuss the menu with her so you must check it. And see that the extra guests have beds made up for them. I am utterly exhausted and need to repose myself before dinner. Lord, I hope Magnus is grateful for the efforts I am making on his behalf. I shall be glad when it’s all over.’

      Tallie mentally agreed. The last ten days had been exhausting and frustrating, and she was counting the hours until the guests departed. Still, she flattered herself that everything was going off quite smoothly.

      This was, however, one order she felt unable to carry out. ’I have nothing to wear to dinner, Cousin.’

      ‘Lord, girl, as if anyone will care what you wear. No one will take any notice of you—you are just there to make up the numbers. Any old thing will do.’

      ‘I have only one evening dress, Cousin, the one you gave me several years ago, and as you must know it does not fit me.’

      ‘Then alter it, for heaven’s sake! Or wear a shawl or something over it. I cannot be expected to think of everything! Now leave me at once, for if I do not get some peace and quiet I fear I will have the headache by dinnertime.’

      ‘Yes, Cousin,’ Tallie murmured between her teeth. It went very much against the grain to submit so tamely to her cousin’s rudeness, but poverty had taught her to take a more pragmatic view. In the short term, it was unbearable to be treated in this fashion. On the other hand, Laetitia was rarely here, and for most of the year at Manningham there were just Tallie and the children and servants. In truth, she told herself severely, she had a delightful life. An orphan with not a penny to her name ought to be grateful to have a roof over her head. That she didn’t feel grateful was, no doubt, a deficiency of character.

      Tallie hurried downstairs. She consulted with Cook about the menu, Mrs Wilmot about the arrangements for the unexpected guests and Brooks about the wines for dinner, then hurried back upstairs to see to her dress.

      Ten minutes later she was in despair. Laetitia was a smaller woman than she, with a dainty, sylphlike figure. The pale green muslin gown was designed to sweep low across the bosom and shoulders and fall loosely from a high waistline. On Tallie the deeply scooped neckline clung, causing her bosom to bulge embarrassingly. The waist was too tight and her ankles were scandalously revealed. Tallie went to her wardrobe and glanced through it again, desperately hoping that by some magical process an alternative would present itself. Two winter day dresses, two summer day dresses, all rather worn and out of date. She sighed and returned gloomily to the green muslin.

      She was no needlewoman, and even if she were she could not make larger that which was too small in the first place. After some experimentation she managed to fill in the neckline with a piece of old lace, so that it covered her decently at least, even if it was still too tight. She tacked a frill along the hem. It looked quite ridiculous, she knew, but at least it covered her ankles.

      Finally she draped herself in a large paisley shawl to disguise the tightness of the dress. It would surely suffice to get her through dinner. She glanced at herself in the glass and closed her eyes in momentary mortification. The green colour did bring interesting highlights to her brown hair and eyes, and her curly hair was neat for once, but—she looked a perfect quiz! Still, she told herself bracingly, Laetitia was right. No one would take any notice of her. She was just an extra female—the poor relation—and she would slip away the moment dinner was over. In any case, she didn’t like her cousin’s guests, so what did it matter what they thought of her? Taking a deep breath, she headed downstairs to check on the arrangements for dinner.

      Magnus took another sip of armagnac and wondered how much longer he could endure the girlish flutterings going on around him. His temper was on a knife-edge and he had no one to blame but himself. The house party had been a disaster.

      Ten days of the unalleviated company of high-bred young women would have been bad enough—he’d nerved himself for that ordeal. But he should have realised that Laetitia would select a gaggle of young ladies most like herself—spoiled, vain, vapid and silly. Magnus was almost rigid with boredom.

      And exasperation—for he’d

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