Page 99 of The Music of Love

“Likewise,” was all she could force out between stiff lips. But she might as well not have spoken as the beautiful woman and her husband only saw each other. The woman looked at Stacy with open affection, as if he were her savior. And Stacy? Well, he was looking at the lovely stranger as if he could not get enough.

The familiar jealous, jangling sensation began to make her head hot and she knew she had to get away, now. She needed privacy to calm herself.

So she pasted a smile on her face. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I will go and see if there is space in one of the carriages.”

Her words jarred Stacy into action. “Wait, Portia—”

Robert came around the corner of the house, barely stopping in time to avoid a collision. He grinned at Portia and steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. “Ah, the woman I was seeking. Your carriage awaits, madam.” He looked over to where Stacy stood with his beautiful, mysterious friend, and then every drop of color drained from his face and he staggered back, his hand scrabbling blindly for the wall. For a moment, Portia thought he might actually faint.

Mrs. Charring clutched at Stacy, who slid an arm around her slim body with an easy familiarity that set Portia’s hackles up. “Are you all right, Kitty?”

Kitty. Yes, the woman did have a long, kittenish upper lip—although it was compressed in shock just now. It was clear to Portia that Kitty was not all right. But she seemed to recall herself and blinked rapidly while stepping away from Stacy.

“Yes, yes of course, I’m fine.” She looked up at Stacy. Something—Portia didn’t know what—passed between the two before Stacy turned to his brother.

“This is Katherine Charring, Robert. She is from Plymouth. Kitty, this is my brother, Viscount Pendleton.”

Mrs. Charring’s perfect, coral-pink lips hung open but no sound came from between them. Once again, she swayed alarmingly. Once again, Stacy’s arm went around her, but this time it stayed.

Robert strode forward, his face its usual mask of polite charm. “Mrs. Charring, what a pleasure to meet you.”

“Lord Pendleton,” she murmured.

Portia could not look away from the trio, who’d all forgotten her existence they were so transfixed on each other.

Just what the devil was going on?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Portia cut a glance at her brother-in-law’s taut profile. “Thank you for driving me yourself, I’m sorry you’ll miss what must be a lovely walk.”

He made a soft clucking sound and the lively bays leapt forward. “I’ve taken the walk hundreds of time but I’ve never had a drive with my charming sister-in-law.”

“What a honey-tongued devil you are, my lord.”

“You must call me Robert, otherwise I cannot call you Portia,” he reminded her. “And I do love the sound of your name on my honeyed tongue.” He flashed her one of his charming smiles, his mask firmly in place.

“Have we far to go?” Portia asked. Maybe if she talked, she wouldn’t have to think about the bizarre scene she’d left behind her. The last she’d seen of Stacy he’d been walking some distance behind the others, his head bent close to the gorgeous Katherine Charring.

“It is not far at all on foot, but we will take a slightly longer route, which is prettier than the more direct road.”

Portia tried to think of something to say—some pleasantry—but found nothing. Instead, she watched him handle the reins, his hands competent and elegant in their tan gloves.

“What do you think of Thurlstone so far, Portia?”

“It is fascinating and overwhelming.” And so were the people who occupied it—not to mention some of the guests.

“I am terribly sorry you’ve had such brushes with danger on your brief trip. I hope it will not keep you from visiting again?”

She knew Robert meant the stray bullet and collapsing balcony, but the only danger she could think of right now had red hair and green eyes. She tried to swallow the raw jealousy that threatened to choke her.

“Portia?”

Robert was looking down at her, his brow furrowed. “Do you not feel well?”

Hysterical laughter joined raging jealousy and it took every bit of self-control she had not to unravel. Instead, she smiled. “I am just a little tired.” Portia was still scrambling for something to say when Robert spoke.

“Have you known Mrs. Charring long?”