As she walked through to the drawing room, the big portrait of Theodora caught her attention. It hung at the bottom of the stairs where the light from the hall seemed to catch the sapphires and diamonds around her neck and on her ears and wrist, making them glitter as if they were real. Quite apart from the serene beauty of the woman, the Frampton suite blazed with a magnificence of its own. Phaedra didn’t have time to linger, but Julius had been right; no woman, however modest, could fail to be impressed by them.
She walked into the drawing room, where Rosamunde and Joshua stood to greet her. “Technically, we’ve met before,” said Rosamunde. “But I don’t count that.” She extended her hand. “I’m Rosamunde, Antoinette’s sister.”
“Yes, hello again.” Phaedra shook her hand, relieved to see that the rather severe-looking woman she had met in the library was quite friendly when she smiled.
“This is Josh,” said Antoinette, then she introduced Roberta, and there was nothing in her demeanor to suggest that she wasn’t entirely fond of her daughter-in-law.
Phaedra shook Joshua’s hand; unlike his older brother’s, it was as soft and bland as dough. His features were pleasant enough; in fact, he should have been very handsome, but there was no character in his face to give it the individuality and strength that David’s possessed. He had something of the lame duck about him, a slight stoop of the shoulders and a detachment in the eyes, as if he had willfully disengaged. She was surprised by his wife’s coolness. She remained solemn, her sharp jaw taut, looking down at Phaedra with an imperious gaze, making Phaedra feel small in every way.
Just as Roberta was about to speak, David stepped in to rescue her. “Let’s sit down,” he suggested. There was a moment of awkwardness as David moved his hand towards the small of her back to direct her to the sofa. Thinking better of it, he pulled away at the last moment. “Harris will get you a drink,” he said, putting his errant hand in his pocket. “What would you like?”
“Lime and soda?”
“Are you sure you don’t need more fortification?” He grinned down at her.
“Maybe later.”
“I would apologize for them,” he whispered once they had sat down, “but they’re your family, too.” They both laughed, and Antoinette thought how already they appeared like siblings.
Harris brought drinks, and they chatted around the fire. Roberta perched on the window seat, some distance from the rest of the family, listening but not taking part. Antoinette didn’t bother to beckon her forward. If she wants to be standoffish, she thought, that’s her problem. She hoped Phaedra didn’t notice the girl’s rudeness.
Phaedra noticed everything and wasn’t in the least surprised by Roberta’s hostility, although it hurt. She was grateful that everyone else treated her kindly. Julius had said that George’s family would embrace her as a long-lost daughter, but Phaedra hadn’t been so sure. It seemed a lot to ask of a family still in mourning. But the gamble appeared to have paid off. Antoinette was ready to welcome her, and David, especially, was going to great lengths to make her feel she belonged. Joshua’s eyes brightened every time he looked at her, and Rosamunde, clearly keen to please her sister, was very gracious indeed. To Phaedra, however, blood was of little importance—their shared love for George bonded them in a way that DNA never could.
As Antoinette talked about her dogs, Phaedra noticed the pain behind her eyes. The woman smiled and laughed occasionally at David’s jokes, but Phaedra guessed that inside, her heart was a brick. She stood alone at the beginning of an uncharted and solitary road. She had her sons to comfort her and her sister to give her strength, and yet her widowhood rendered her isolated and forlorn. Phaedra wanted to reach out to her, but she knew that no amount of carefully chosen words could bring George back. Anything less than that fell desperately short.
Tom still hadn’t turned up by the time they moved into the dining room for dinner. Antoinette looked anxiously at her watch. “Don’t worry about him, Mum. He’s probably forgotten,” said David, pulling the chair out for Phaedra.
“I’m not worrying,” she replied, smiling unconvincingly.
“I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten,” Rosamunde reassured her.
“Has Tom ever been on time for anything?” asked Joshua, sitting down.
“Oh, I think that’s a little unfair,” Antoinette replied, her hackles rising as she prepared to defend him.
“He’ll be down,” Roberta added. “He certainly won’t miss this weekend. There’s nothing he enjoys more than a good drama.” Phaedra wanted to respond to the suggestion that she was the drama, but refrained. There was no point prodding the tail of the tigress, she’d only get bitten.