Page 37 of A Sorceress Comes to Call
He’s as old as the Squire or Lady Hester! Surely Mother can’t expect me to marry someone like that?
She knew the thought was foolish as soon as she had it, and felt a flush of embarrassment, even though she hadn’t said it out loud. Of course her mother would expect that. A rich man, she’d always said. Not a young man.
“Lord Evermore,” her mother said warmly, taking Cordelia’s hand and drawing her across the room. “Let me introduce my daughter Cordelia. Cordelia, this is Lord Richard Evermore.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Cordelia,” said Evermore, bowing over her hand. He had a low, pleasant voice—or at least Cordelia might have thought it was pleasant if she had not been instructed to charm the man.
Evangeline pinched her arm sharply before releasing it. Cordelia, jolted, curtsied more deeply than she probably should have. Lord Evermore’s eyebrows went up. Cordelia felt her face growing hot. She took a deep breath and said, “It is very nice to meet you, sir.”
That came out all right. I think. Her flush cooled. She wanted to hide in a corner, but with her mother standing right there, she didn’t dare. Charming. I am supposed to be charming. “Did you have a pleasant… er…” Too late she remembered that it had rained all day. “A long journey?”
“Neither one, I fear,” said Evermore easily. “Only a few hours, but it rained the whole way. Though I have hopes that it will dry out tomorrow.”
“I hope so, too,” said Evangeline. “I do so love to ride, and staying in these last few days has been dreary.”
“I don’t mind a few drops, but there’s not much point if it’s mud halfway to the horse’s knees,” said the Squire, joining them. “Though the hunting’s always good, that first fine day after a spell of rain.”
“And now they’ll be off on hunting talk,” said Hester, casting an amused look at Cordelia, “and we’ll get nothing more out of them for the rest of the evening.”
Lord Evermore looked over at Hester fondly, almost the way that Lord Strauss looked at Lady Strauss. “I suppose we could talk about breeding geese instead,” he said. “Then we’ll get nothing more out of you for the evening either.”
Hester poked him in the shin with her cane. “How is my flock doing, anyway?”
“Healthy and belligerent.”
“Any sign of arthritis in the younger ones?”
Evermore smiled wryly at the others and mouthed, I told you so. The Squire laughed. Cordelia giggled, because giggles were supposed to be charming, and hoped that it didn’t come out sounding too strained.
“I had no idea that you were so fond of… fowl,” said Evangeline.
“Oh, Hester’s a genius when it comes to geese,” said the Squire proudly. “Back when they were all the rage, we had people coming and going at all hours, trying to get a pair of her birds for themselves.”
“My goodness.” Evangeline turned a dazzling smile on Hester and Lord Evermore. “I had no idea you were so accomplished, Lady Hester.”
“The geese did most of the work.” Hester’s tone was dry as snakeskin. “I just made sure we ate the ones who weren’t up to snuff.”
“How ruthless.” Evangeline put a hand to her mouth.
“Got to be,” said the Squire. “Same way with horses. You let one bad sire in and it takes generations to clear up.”
“Fortunately goose generations are much shorter than horses’,” Evermore said.
“Easier to eat, t-too,” said Cordelia, greatly daring. Was that funny? Will anyone laugh or will Mother apologize for me or—
The Squire threw back his head and guffawed. Hester and Evermore both chuckled. Her mother cast her an approving look and Cordelia felt weak-kneed with relief.
Her relief carried her almost through to dinner. Then things took an unpleasant turn, although Cordelia knew that she couldn’t possibly be blamed for it.
No, the problem was Mrs. Penelope Green. She swept into the parlor fashionably late and every eye turned toward her. The Squire left Evangeline’s side to greet the newcomer, and stayed there, chatting with her.
“Ah, you’ve invited Mrs. Green,” said Evermore. “An excellent choice.”
“Such a lovely woman,” said Hester. “She livens up any gathering, I’ve found.”
“She certainly seems to be an original,” said Evangeline, showing her teeth. “Why, I haven’t seen a gown like that since I was a little girl!”
“Oh, indeed,” said Hester. “If any of us tried to pull that off, we’d look hopelessly dowdy. But Penelope walks into a gathering and leaves a new fashion behind her.” She beamed up at Evermore. “Do you remember, Richard, when she took snuff off Lord Stanville’s wrist at the opera? They had to carry his mother off in strong hysterics.”
