Page 55 of A Well-Trained Lady

I released a small sigh, in no mood to revisit Ruth’s disappointment at not having Sarah here yet again. “She is not out in Society, Ruth. It is the proper thing for her to remain home.”

“But she always comes to Safford Park with us.”

“Not when a gentleman is visiting.”

We stepped into the drawing room and meandered to the far side together. It was quite a bit grander than Fairhaven, and I could not help but admire the elegant furnishings and rich colors that were evidence of the Whitmores’ wealth. “Does this room not remind you of Fellerton?”

Ruth mirrored my appraisal. “It is most similar, isn’t it?” She tipped her head to the side, as though the change in perspective would better help her identify the similarities. “How odd I should not have recognized it before now. The tapestry on the side opposite the hearth … and the maroon wall color. Even the gold framing around the paintings seem to be the very same.” She righted the angle of her head and smiled at me. “Perhaps that is why I have always adored Safford Park. Well that, and the Whitmores being here, of course.”

“Of course.”

She paused, appraising the room a second time. “I wonder if I will now find that some of the other rooms have a likeness to Fellerton as well. Though I must admit, my memories of it are growing dim considering how long it has been since I’ve seen it.”

“Where is Fellerton?” Mr. Treynor asked, stepping to join us. “If you don’t mind my intrusion, of course.”

I gave him a polite smile. “Near Bath. It is my family’s estate.”

“Candace mentioned the two of you were childhood friends long separated?”

Ruth bobbed her head up and down. “The best of friends, just as we are again.”

“But how did—”

“Are the gentlemen not taking port?” I asked before Mr. Treynor could continue his interrogation. I was in no mood to turn tales as to the reasoning behind our separation, especially with the risk of Ruth contradicting them.

He shook his head. “I was not opposed, but Mr. Brundage preferred to defer and rejoin the group.”

“Shall we begin our game of Lanterloo, then?” I glanced around to see where the others had gone, when my gaze fell on Augustus and Miss Whitmore standing together a ways off. Despite my best attempt, I could not look away as he slipped her what appeared to be a missive. Miss Whitmore glanced toward her inattentive mother before she offered Augustus a timid smile. He leaned in and whispered something to her, causing my stomach to clench at the sight. I forced my consideration back to Mr. Treynor. “I hear you enjoy horses, sir?”

Mr. Treynor illuminated. “I do. In truth, I hope to breed them one day.”

“Though I have never cared much for the creatures, Ruth here adores them.”

She nodded. “Oh, I do. My uncle bought me one of the finest horses in all of England before he died. Her name is Guinevere, and she is as fast as she is beautiful.”

Mr. Treynor’s eyes moved across Ruth’s features with interest. “Do you know her parentage?”

Ruth’s mouth opened then closed again. “No. I haven’t much considered pedigrees before.”

He gave a small nod, and silence reigned.

“Mr. Treynor, I fear I’m quite parched,” I said, offering an apologetic look. “Would you retrieve me a refreshment?”

“Of course.” He took two steps back before pausing. “And you, Miss Seton? Are you thirsty also?”

She shook her head.

He gave a nod and started toward the refreshments on the other side of the room.

I glanced toward Ruth. “Do you remember what I taught you earlier today?”

Her nose scrunched in confusion. “It’s all a blur.”

“When he returns with my drink, you must flatter him.”

Ruth shook her head, a terrified expression on her face. “No. Surely I will make a mess of it.”

“You shall not. Simply act interested in what he enjoys.”