Page 6 of A Well-Trained Lady

The exhale Mother released sounded more like a hiss. “Yes. It appears that is what your father intends.”

I gave a slow nod, realizing this providential development could be taken from me as quickly as it had been given. “But do you not oppose my going?”

“Of course I oppose.” The shrill tone altered Mother’s voice. “But as I have already stated, Charles will not hear me on the matter, despite my reasons. As if he has ever dictated your social arrangements to me before. It is most unlike him and utterly infuriating.”

“Mrs. Leavitt must be melancholy indeed, for Papa to be so determined.”

Mother huffed. “Yes. I suppose she must be. Though her timing is most inconvenient as is Mr. Leavitt’s lack of foresight to not send for some other young relation to cheer her. One less inclined to receiving invitations than you.”

I thought to mention Sandson Hall hardly counted as a noteworthy invitation, but I held my tongue, allowing the silence to settle. I would not risk her temper, nor my freedom.

“At least Charles was correct in one regard—your continued absence from London will ensure that you will not haphazardly encourage any more suitors while Lord Thorton is away.”

My throat constricted as I thought of Papa saying such a thing. Surely he only mentioned it in an attempt to appease Mother. Hadn’t he?

Watching me, Mother’s lips curved at the edges, and I cursed myself for not better concealing my quandary. “I am at least relieved to discover you were not aware of the arrangement, as Charles had assured me.” Mother’s eyes shifted between mine. “To think that either of you would willingly deceive me would be unpardonable.”

Ever so slowly, I released the air I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in. “I knew nothing of the Leavitts’ invitation.”

A light knock sounded on the door, stealing both our attention.

Mother stood. “Yes, Harriston?”

The butler gave a slight bow of his head. “The coach is ready for you, my lady.”

“And have my daughter’s trunks already been hauled back inside?”

Harriston tipped his chin downward. “They are being moved now.”

“You presume to collect me when your work is not yet complete?”

He gave a small bow. “Forgive me, my lady.”

Mother just shook her head. “These Town servants are utterly remiss.”

I quieted my tongue, unwilling to risk provoking Mother further.

Mother’s regard returned to me. “Well, be certain to arrive at Branbury in time to dress for dinner on the first day of July.” She started toward the door but paused, looking back at me. “You must realize that Lord Thorton is likely your last chance at a match of that caliber. Do not forget it.”

Placing my sampler on the side table, I stood and faced her. “I know what is expected of me.”

Mother scrutinized me one last time. “I would certainly hope so by now.” Without another word, she walked from the room.

I took a moment to gather myself. When Papa walked past the door, indicating for me to join them in the entry hall, I followed obediently.

Mother tugged on her gloves. “I am of the mind to delay my departure so that I might at least see Arabella off.”

Papa hardly looked affected by her threat. “You shall do no such thing. I am more than capable of seeing to the task.”

“I believe we often hold different opinions, though mine don’t seem to matter as of late.” Mother shook her head, grasping her reticule. “I shall not pretend we are parting on good terms.”

“And yet, I implore you to enjoy yourself.” Papa sounded less than sincere. “Considering the guestlist, I’m certain Arabella’s absence will allow you to more fully enjoy your time at Sandson Hall.”

Mother pursed her lips and lifted her chin, moving toward the open door. “Farewell, Arabella. Charles.”

“Goodbye, Mother.” I stepped through the doorway after her, still in shock that she was climbing into the waiting coach without me.

“Farewell, dear,” Papa muttered, stepping behind me. We watched in silence as the coach rolled forward and down the street.