Название: The Perfect Mistress
Автор: Victoria Alexander
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
isbn: 9781420122442
isbn:
“I cannot take your money, although your offer is most appreciated,” Julia said.
“Why ever not? She certainly has the money.” Portia poured her tea. Veronica’s spending habits were the subject of great amusement and, on Julia’s part, who had to watch every penny, some envy. “Why, the amount she spends on hats alone would fund a small country for a year.”
“Longer probably,” Veronica said, the fanciful concoction of feathers and flowers on the hat she wore today bobbing with her movements. “I see no reason not to indulge myself as I have the means to do so. And I simply adore a hat that makes a statement.”
“Oh, your hats make all sorts of statements.” A wicked light sparked in Portia’s eye. “I would say the statement that particular hat makes is—”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Veronica cast Portia a narrowed look. “Or wise.” She turned back to Julia. “Nor is your refusal to take my money.” She met her friend’s gaze and took her hand. “I have never had a great number of friends but I understand friends do things like this for one another. And, in truth, I have come to think of us as somewhat more than friends. You are the sister I have never had.”
Julia swallowed the lump that abruptly rose in her throat. “I never had a sister either.”
“And I’ve never had a real sister,” Portia said quickly, not to be outdone, and fairly slapped her hand on top of her friends’. “And, while my finances are not as vulgarly excessive as Veronica’s, I too have a tidy fortune. I should like to give you money as well.”
Julia stared at Portia, glaring at Veronica, then met the other widow’s gaze and the gleam of amusement in her eye. Both women laughed and Portia huffed. “I am quite sincere, even if a bit tardy.”
“I know you are.” Julia smiled. “And I am most grateful.” She withdrew her hand, settled back in her chair, and considered her friends. “That you would both make such an offer touches me more than I can say, however I cannot—”
“Of course you can. You simply won’t. Pride, my dear, is not nearly as becoming as you might think.” Veronica straightened. “But do understand this, regardless of your refusal, the offer—both offers I assume—stand.”
“We do not want to see you destitute.” Portia flicked her gaze over Julia’s serviceable but well-worn dress and wisely kept her opinion on the topic of Julia’s wardrobe to herself. “You will never find a wealthy husband if you look like you need one.”
“I should quite like to marry again, but as no potential suitor has yet to appear on my doorstep, I must take matters into my own hands.” Julia nodded at the manuscript. “This might well be my salvation and, like any true miracle, arrived just when I needed it.”
Veronica raised a brow. “Left to you by your late great-uncle then?”
“Not exactly.” Annoyance sounded in Julia’s voice. “According to her memoirs, my great-grandmother had always intended for this to be left in the care of my mother as she thought her children were too proper to appreciate it.”
Veronica nodded. “Byron’s memoirs were burned after his death, by friends I believe, who were concerned as to the scandal they might cause.”
“For reasons unknown to me, it instead fell into the hands of my great-uncle who did not see fit to give it to my mother.”
“No doubt because of its scandalous nature. You can scarcely blame the man for that.” Portia’s brow furrowed. “I never knew you had a scandalous great-grandmother.” She glanced at Veronica. “And why is it that you know about this Lady Middlebury and I don’t?”
“My grandmother quite enjoys a good story and considers them even better if they include an element of truth.” Veronica smiled with the memory.
“Gossip?” Portia scoffed. “My family has never been prone to gossip.”
“How sad for you, my dear.” Veronica cast Portia a sympathetic look then turned her attention back to Julia. “I, for one, think this is fascinating. Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
“There is much about my family I don’t know. I always thought we were quite ordinary, but apparently we are a family of many secrets.” Julia thought for a moment. “I did know that my great-grandmother was considered quite notorious in her day but she died before I was born and my mother rarely spoke of her. I know as well that she was not close to her children—my grandmother and her brother—and spent the later years of her life living in France.” She shook her head. “But I didn’t even know my grandmother was still living until six years ago when my parents died.”
“Which is when you became responsible for her support,” Veronica said slowly.
“A responsibility that should have fallen to your great-uncle,” Portia pointed out, again.
“It’s all quite tangled and convoluted. After all, including me, it encompasses four generations.” Julia paused in an apologetic manner. “And you have heard much of this before.”
“And like any good story, we shall enjoy hearing it again.” Veronica refilled her cup.
“My great-grandmother and her children were estranged. She lost her husband at twenty-four, the same age I was when I lost William.” Julia sipped her tea. “Spouses do not seem to live overly long in my family.”
“There’s something to be said for that,” Veronica said coolly.
Julia bit back a smile. In spite of Veronica’s skeptical comments, she knew full well her friend had cared deeply for her late husband.
“My mother and my grandmother at some point had a falling-out which led to their estrangement for a time although I have never known why. But then, as I understand it, she became ill—”
“Mad.” Portia nodded sagely.
“She’s not mad,” Julia said quickly. “Eccentric, yes, but—”
“You told us she hears voices,” Portia said. “That’s the very definition of mad.”
“She’s not mad.” Julia’s tone was sharper than she intended even if she didn’t quite believe her own words. “She has lived quietly in the country for years with a housekeeper who is more friend than servant. Indeed, they …” She hesitated then looked at her friends. “They both seem quite happy. I first went to see her when my parents died and I learned of her existence—”
“Kept secret because of the madness no doubt,” Portia said under her breath.
Julia met Veronica’s gaze. “I had to meet her and see for myself, you understand, how ill she was.”
Veronica nodded. “And?”
“And, I would not call her mad.” Julia smiled. “I thought she was delightful. Quite witty and most amusing.”
“And her voices?” Portia asked. “Were they witty as well?”
“I visit whenever I can and her company is most enjoyable. СКАЧАТЬ