Free Lady of Spirit, A by Shelley Adina Page A

she said as she joined him.
    “It was quite the performance, I must say. I had not believed you capable of it.” Andrew offered her his arm and they paced down the steps and into the garden, where their conversation might be less likely to be overheard.
    “It put quite a strain on my ingenuity,” she admitted. “But I was so angry that I could not think how else to put a stop to it. How dare she treat Maggie that way? Did you hear her? Margaret, clear away these cups. Margaret, wipe up your mess. Let me introduce Margaret, Elizabeth’s companion. ” Claire’s voice rose and cracked in an imitation of Mrs. Seacombe’s tones. “She was lucky I merely displaced her shining star and did not up-end the coffee pot over her head.”
    “You are too well bred for that.”
    “Sadly, yes.” Claire made an effort to rein in the temper that had risen once more in the re-enactment of the offending remarks. “And I would not want Maggie to stoop to such behavior, either. I have grave doubts about the wisdom of our going up to Gwynn Place and leaving the girls here. It cannot be healthy. Maggie must be sensible of the difference her grandparents are making between them.”
    “If she is, then you must give her credit for being more of a lady than her grandmother, and not showing it.”
    “Yes, but she cannot be expected to stand there and meekly take the slings and arrows aimed at her. She has not been brought up to accept belittlement or unfairness.”
    “Perhaps the question we ought to ask is, why are they doing this? Surely they would not hold her parentage against an innocent young girl who is not only lovely, but accomplished as well?”
    She squeezed his arm as they walked slowly among the roses, her heart swelling with affection. “Have I told you lately how glad I am that you understand all that goes on between me and the Mopsies?”
    With a pat of his hand upon her own gloved one, he said, “Not lately, but I am glad you honor me with your confidence, Claire. Sometimes I forget that there are only seven years between you—and that you are not in fact their older sister. It cannot be easy sometimes to know which is the right course in their upbringing, even now that they are out in society.”
    “I have had many a white night worrying about them, it is true—especially after the recent events at Colliford Castle. But to return to Maggie, yes, I am certain that the Seacombes are making her pay for what they see as their daughter’s shortcomings. Why else make it plain that they view her as merely a companion for Lizzie—a drudge, someone they must put up with for the sake of the legitimate child?”
    “Will you speak to them?”
    “I fear I must. I cannot let this go on, even if it results in our being turned out of the house before Wednesday.”
    The sound of low voices at the other end of the garden stopped her, and in the moonlight she recognized a familiar white dress. But who was this at Lizzie’s side?
    “Lizzie—Tigg—are you enjoying an evening stroll as well?” Andrew said as they met in the middle, by the sundial.
    “Yes, we are.” Both Lizzie’s hands were wrapped around Tigg’s arm, and their bodies swayed toward one another in a manner that told Claire that her eyes had not been deceived earlier. Lizzie couldn’t keep a smile of womanly pleasure from glimmering in and out like the sun in clouds, and Tigg’s gaze only strayed from her face when it was absolutely necessary for the sake of politeness.
    Oh my.
    She was making assumptions where she had no proof—or any confidence of Lizzie’s that would make her think such a thing. But Claire remembered all too well how she herself had felt in the moments after Andrew had first kissed her, that day in his laboratory. She too had been giddy and hardly in control of her faculties.
    But at the same time, she was not the sister of the heir to a shipping empire. While Claire might have been expected to make a stunning match at one time, her