Free Black Rainbow by KATHY

come. Feeling confident that in this house she need not fear insult, she met Lord Henry's look with one as direct, frowning slightly. His brows lifted and he snapped his fingers, so that all the others turned to look at him.
    "O'Neill," he exclaimed. "Kevin O'Neill's girl."
    "You forget yourself, Lord Henry." Jane's cool voice was the first to break the silence.
    "No harm intended, Miss Mandeville, I assure you. I thought she looked familiar, and just now it all came together. I knew your father well, Miss O'Neill. In fact, I seem to recall dandling you on my knee when you were a tiny thing."
    "O'Neill?" Mrs. Morton repeated the name, her voice greedily curious.
    "Connacht's youngest. Best fellow in the world." Lord Henry took the chair beside Megan and added, in a lower tone, "I was sorry to hear of his death, Miss O'Neill. Please accept my sincere, if belated, condolences."
    Megan decided she had misjudged Lord Henry. His sister might be a rude snob, but he had lovely manners. The disclosure of her parentage had unquestionably raised her status; she could tell from the subtle way the expressions of the others had changed. Only Jane appeared unmoved.
    "Miss O'Neill seems not to remember the acquaintance," she said.
    "Oh, it was years ago," Lord Henry said pleasantly. "I will not admit how many years; but you see what an old dog I am, Miss Mandeville. Edmund denies it, he refuses to give me the respect owed to age and experience."
    Edmund made a joking reply and the conversation became general. Megan, hands folded demurely, spoke only when directly addressed. Things were going well. Lord Henry's recognition was a bonus she had not expected—proof that some force was fighting on her side? Well, she was not so superstitious as that; but it would do no harm to say an extra rosary that night.
    Lina had forsaken Lady Georgina, to the latter's undisguised relief. She had gotten over her shyness and was chattering to the other ladies in a blend of French and English. Edmund and Lady Georgina had their heads together; it was hard for Megan to make out what they were saying, but once, in a lull in the general conversation, she heard Lady Georgina say, "No, that will not do at all; it would be simpler to tear down the entire wing and rebuild." So they were talking about Edmund's plans for the house. Jane heard, too, and shot a resentful glance at the speaker.
    Jane's angry color had subsided as she talked with Lord Henry. She ignored Belts as thoroughly as possible; his initial overtures having been rejected, he had joined the other gentlemen and, against all the dictates of polite behavior, they were talking business. There was no question about the subject of the conversation, for Belts's resounding voice could be heard all over the room. His comments were as boring as they were unsuitable to the occasion, concerned as they were with his own cleverness in cutting costs and raising production. Finally he paused for breath and one of the other men was able to insert a comment—something about labor regulations.
    "Man, don't talk to me about the domned government," Belts cried. "Great hectoring nowts, trying to tell a mon how to run his business. But I know how to deal wi' 'em; ay, I'se sent mony a fule inspector packing with a flea in his ear and a few banknotes in his pocket."
    Jane's lip curled as she listened. Observing that he had lost her attention, Lord Henry took advantage of another break in Belts's tirade to say lazily, "I believe your mill was one of those cited in the last report of the Commission on Child Labor, was it not, Mr. Belts?"
    The question did not embarrass Belts, as it was meant to do. "Ay, it was," he replied with a coarse laugh. "And much good it did the interfering scoundrels. To be sure, I had to dress the place up a bit when the inspectors came, but it didn't cost too dear, and once they'd gone we was back to our old ways."
    The rest of the company had fallen silent. Lady Georgina raised a hand to her lips,