Her Secondhand Groom(25)

“Do you three think you’ve had enough?” Juliet asked, casually sweeping crumbs off the edges of the table and into her open hand.

“Yesh,” Kate said around a mouth crammed full of biscuit.

Juliet raised an eyebrow at the girl. “Do you have any milk?” she asked Cook.

“Aye.” Cook left the room for a minute and came back with a little jug of milk. She put it down on the table with a thwack and turned around to grab three empty cups from a shelf behind her. With three more thwacks, she put the empty cups in a little row by the milk and filled them. “Jist a minute.” She turned and grabbed a little jar from the shelf. She turned back and sprinkled a little powder in each of the three cups. “For their stomachs,” she whispered to Juliet with a wink.

Juliet flashed her a grateful smile. “You girls ready to go back upstairs and practice your letters?”

“Do we have to?” Helena asked, her eyes hopeful.

“Yes. All young ladies should learn to read and write. It’s important.”

“But it’s boring,” Celia protested.

Juliet stood and pushed in her chair. “And what if I could think of some way for it to be fun? Would you be interested then?”

“Of course they would,” a sweet voice said from the doorway.

Juliet spun around to face their visitor. But before she could say anything to this stranger who’d interrupted, Celia, Helena and Kate were off their chairs and embracing this woman with such speed Juliet would have thought a rabid dog were after them and this lady was their only source of rescue.

“Miss Green! Miss Green!” Kate cried excitedly.

“No, not Miss Green,” Celia corrected. “She’s Lady Sinclair now.”

“Yes, she is,” a tall man with a heavily scarred face said, coming up to stand beside the petite blonde who Juliet assumed was his wife. The man bent down and gave each of the three girls a quick hug. “Are you three being good?”

“Of course,” Celia said matter-of-factly.

“Still modest as ever, aren’t you?” Lady Sinclair teased, her lips curving up while her green eyes twinkled.

Juliet knew instantly they’d be good friends. That is, if they were ever properly introduced. She cleared her throat.

Lady Sinclair flashed her a knowing smile. “Girls, why don’t you introduce us to your companion?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Celia walked over to Juliet and grabbed her hand. “Juliet, this is Papa’s friend Marcus, Lord Sinclair, and his wife, Emma, Lady Sinclair. They just married a few days ago.”

Lord Sinclair smiled approvingly. “Very good introduction, Celia, but now you need to introduce your guest to us.”

Juliet gave Celia’s hand a slight, reassuring squeeze. The day they’d come to stay at her cottage she’d determined all three of these girls were somewhat lacking in their decorum and manners. Not so much that they were little Heathens or anything, but they certainly could benefit from a few lessons.

“Marcus, Emma,” Helena said excitedly, coming up to grab Juliet’s other hand. “This is Juliet. She’s our new mothern―”

“Lady Drakely,” Lord Presumptuous cut in. He ran his fingers through his hair for what had to be at least the sixth time today, by her count, and cleared his throat. “This is the new Lady Drakely.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Lord Sinclair said with a bow.

Juliet was too fascinated by the expressions on all three of the other adults in the room to do more than murmur a greeting to each of them. For a reason she couldn’t fathom, her husband of less than six hours looked rather uncomfortable, almost as if he were about to suffocate from an overly tight cravat. Lord Sinclair stood next to him, his eyes not quite meeting Juliet’s. His face was too scarred for her to be able to have a clear understanding of his expression, but if his eyes were any indication, something was amiss. To his right, his wife stood silent. Far too silent. The laughter that was previously in her eyes was gone.

Juliet’s eyes narrowed behind her thick spectacles. Was that a look of sympathy on the other woman’s face? She shook her head. Juliet might feel she was entitled to a bit of sympathy for her plight of being trapped into a marriage with Lord Presumptuous, but if even his friends thought she was in need of sympathy, she was in a bad way indeed.

“Would you like to spend the afternoon with us, Emma?” Helena asked.

“You mean, Lady Sinclair,” Celia corrected.

Lady Sinclair smiled brightly at the three girls. “Of course. And what exactly are you doing?”

“Well, we just finished eating biscuits and now we’re going up to work on letters,” Celia told her proudly.