Free Lessons in French by Laura Kinsale

trying not to feel seventeen years old again, with the cut of a whip across his face
    and shame burning in his throat.
    At last the door swung open under another foot man's white-gloved hand. The butler
    bowed. It was all a great deal more ceremony than he remembered from the old earl's
    days. The butler then had been an ally of his, an immensely tall fellow with a craggy,
    forlorn face. This new man was shorter and thicker, with a high reddish complexion in
    his cheeks. He looked as if he might have a temper. As Trev handed over his hat and
    gloves, he judged that the new fellow would peel to thirteen stone—not a bad physique
    for a middleweight boxer.
    Their footsteps echoed in the domed vestibule, whispers of sound against the fluted
    stone columns and the marble floor. The butler showed him into an empty anteroom with
    a few stiff chairs and some paintings of cattle on the walls. Trev wished now that he'd
    merely left a note of thanks with the f lowers, instead of sending up the cards. He felt as
    unwelcome at Shelford Hall as he ever had.
    There was already sufficient indication that his family was not held in large regard here.
    The basket of apples from Lady Shelford might just as well have been a chilly
    announcement that no more was owed to Dove House than token civility. So it had hardly
    been a shocking blow when Mrs. Rankin conveyed the news that, due to some impending
    social event, Lady Shelford could not see her way to lending out the undercook even for a
    few days. The innkeeper's wife had delivered this intelligence with an eloquent shrug, as
    if it were exactly what one might expect.
    "This way, sir." The stolid butler returned after some delay. The servant nodded brief ly
    as he held the door open.
    Trev followed him up the wide curve of the stair case, carrying his posy. From the
    drawing room came a loud murmur of voices. Quite a large afternoon gathering it
    seemed. Pausing in the doorway, he saw that the pleasant, sun-filled chamber held a
    number of visitors, mostly congregated about a young couple at the head of the room.
    A quick glance round as he was announced did not reveal Callie among the group. He
    disguised his vexation, being utterly at sea without knowing which of these females
    might be Lady Shelford. No one moved forward to greet him, so he stepped into the room
    and stood a moment, listening.
    It didn't take long to deduce that the pair of young people standing shyly by the
    fireplace were newly betrothed. Amid talk of a ball and a formal announcement, someone
    said gaily that Lady Hermione would be wise to order her bride-clothes early from Paris.
    Trev realized with a slight surprise that this was Callie's sister.
    She did not resemble Callie at all. She was some what prettier, to be sure, but it was an
    ordinary prettiness, neither objectionable nor memorable. Now that he guessed who she
    was, he could vaguely recall a prattling and sociable child from his earlier days in
    Shelford, but little sisters had not interested him very deeply at the time. She seemed
    tolerable enough now, if perhaps a little too forced and gay in her gestures. Doubtless she
    was nervous at being the center of attention. A forgivable offense. But no hint of stifled
    mirth in her expression made him wish to tease a smile from her, as Callie's did.

    Callie had mentioned going away with her sister when she married, but he had not
    understood that it was already a settled thing. He realized that he was frowning, and
    smoothed his face into a public smile as one of the women finally took notice of him.
    She did not immediately move to greet him. He saw her give him the sort of cursory
    examination that any lady of the bon ton could perform in the f lick of a raised brow.
    Trev waited with composure while she made certain that he was in all points commeil
    faut.
    Her gaze lingered. He gave a small bow, finely calculated to avoid any presumption
    that she should notice him if she did not care to do so. She was