“Come, Countess,” Julien said, taking her arm, “a hearty English meal awaits us at the Wild Boar.”
Kate said nothing, for there wasn’t, after all, anything to the point that she could say. She looked one last time at The Fair Maid, then moved into silent step beside her husband.
29
“Good Lord, George, you don’t mean my mother is here? Now, at this moment?”
“Yes, my lord. Her ladyship informed me she’d had the ‘feeling’ that you would be returning shortly. She has been waiting in the drawing room not above half an hour, my lord.”
“I had no clue she had such powers. Kate?”
“Oh, yes, it’s very strange.” She had a headache, and she still felt a trifle queasy after their long journey from Plymouth to London.
Julien looked down at her pale face. “George, call Eliza. The countess is fatigued. I want her to rest now.”
She didn’t disagree, thankful that she wouldn’t have to meet the dowager countess until she had had time to gather herself together and get rid of this wretched headache.
“Mother will, of course, wish to meet you, Kate. But if you do not feel just the thing, I shall take you to visit her another day. Eliza, escort the countess to her room.” He patted his wife’s hand, turned, and strode down the long, marbled hall, disappearing through a set of double doors.
“I will see to your luggage, my lady,” George assured her, snapping his fingers in the direction of a footman, whose presence Kate had not even noticed.
“Thank you, George. My lord is right. I would like to go to my room now, Eliza.” It didn’t occur to her to question Eliza’s presence as her maid, in Julien’s house.
She removed only her cloak and bonnet before stretching out on her bed. She felt less wretched after Eliza placed a cloth soaked in lavender water over her eyes. Her stomach settled, and some few minutes later she rose up on her elbows and said, “It’s the oddest thing, Eliza, but now I’m feeling much more alive than otherwise. Please fetch me a gown, for I would meet the dowager countess. Something modest, to suit a mother-in-law’s taste, I think.”
Eliza chose well, and not half an hour later Kate walked down the curved staircase, dressed in a demure, high-necked muslin gown of pale green, her hair brushed into a knot of clustered curls atop her head. She felt no particular trepidation at meeting her mother-in-law, for she really knew very little about her, save that the several times Julien had mentioned his mother he’d spoken with a sort of affectionate impatience.
The doors to the drawing room were slightly ajar, and Kate paused a moment to smooth her gown before entering. She stopped, dismayed, upon hearing a woman speak in a reproachful, complaining voice.
“Of course, I scotched any scandal, Julien, after you left in such unnatural haste for Paris. But how could you chase that girl in the most shocking way imaginable? I told you there was bad blood in the Brandon family, and now you have saddled me with this wicked girl. It is too much, and I fear I won’t survive the winter. Perhaps I won’t even survive until the beginning of winter.”
Kate stood rigidly outside the door, waiting to hear Julien’s response.
“Really, Mama, you’ve had two months to accustom yourself to the idea. I assure you that Katharine is a lovely young lady. You will see her for yourself soon enough.”
“But even Sarah, my dear boy—”
“You forget, Mama, that Sarah is married. Surely you prefer a wicked Brandon to my running off with a married lady.” Julien’s voice was sharp. Kate wasn’t privy to the gleam of sarcastic amusement on his face.
She dismissed her immediate cowardly instinct to retreat to her room, raised her head, and rather like a condemned martyr, strode proudly to her judgment.
She drew up short as she entered, her eyes fastened on the dowager countess of March. A small, dark-haired woman swathed in several fine paisley shawls, she sat on a sofa with her head pressed back against the cushions, her eyes tightly closed as if she were undergoing the most dire of upsets. One thin hand clutched a vinaigrette to her narrow bosom. Julien sat opposite her, his hands clasped between his knees, his look one of bewilderment.
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