Free Mist of Midnight by Sandra Byrd Page B

“Please, do tell me about yourself.”
    Miss Dainley nodded. She seemed pleased to change the subject. Whether it was a relief to be done with my ill manners orthat she did not want to learn more about India just now, I did not know.
    â€œYou’ll be happy to learn there is an inspiring season of events planned, for the summer, during the periods when the others come back from London,” she said. “A few of these events will transpire in . . . your home.”
    â€œYou’ll not be in London?” I asked. I knew it was the season for those well born, and well off, to attend social events in the city.
    â€œNo.” She shook her head. Her discussion of her family’s lack of resources made further explanation unnecessary. Even if I had arrived earlier, and had not been in mourning, I would not have known anyone to oversee a London season for me.
    â€œCaptain Whitfield has seen to the arrangements for entertainments to be held at Headbourne. He’s a wonderful host if, perhaps, somewhat misunderstood of late. I believe he is to return today?”
    I nodded. Had she made inquiries? Or had he told her? I chided myself. Why should it matter to me? “Misunderstood? And what kind of events?” I asked politely.
    â€œOh, nothing, really.” She waved the topic away with her lace handkerchief. “As to events, musical soirées, shooting parties, dinners and balls, that sort of thing, of course, you will be invited to reciprocal arrangements. As long as you’re still here, of course. The grandest of all will be the costumed ball at Graffam Park in autumn. Lord Ledbury spares no expense. The theme will be announced a month in advance and then it’s a melee to come up with an appropriate costume and a suitable gift for Lord and Lady Ledbury.”
    â€œSomething to look forward to. I do hope we can become friends, and I know I shall rely upon your wisdom until your autumn departure, as I reacquaint myself with English ways,” I said. “I’m happy to be of help to you in any way I may, as to India.”
    She nodded, but she was no longer looking at me, distracted by the sound of an oncoming team of horses pulling a carriage.
    Captain Whitfield had returned.
    Miss Dainley stood and I stood as well. Through the front windows, we could see him drive toward the coach house and stable yard. I noted she had told me not about herself, but about the season’s events.
    â€œI look forward to calling upon you, and becoming acquainted with your family,” I said.
    For a moment, she did not take her eyes off the advancing carriage. Then she looked directly at me, voice firm once again. “I should much prefer to visit with you here. Such a jolly home, and Captain Whitfield’s hospitality is so accommodating.” She smiled. “You do agree?”
    To what was I agreeing? That I had a jolly home or that Captain Whitfield was hospitable? Was she asking me to give tacit approval to whatever visits she planned to make here at Headbourne without offering the courtesy of a return visit? Of course, if I visited her, there would be no possibility of Captain Whitfield’s accompanying me.
    In any case, she didn’t wait for a response. We walked to the door and she pulled on her bonnet, but very loosely, which allowed her hair to show to its best, glossy advantage. Landreth began to signal for her carriage, but Miss Dainley stopped him.
    â€œCaptain Whitfield would be happy to attend to this himself,” she said.
    Landreth nodded his agreement and, as she began to descend the steps, I could see Whitfield move toward her with ease and familiarity.
    Landreth closed the door behind her but I could hear cheery conversation and then Whitfield’s laugh. I turned toward Landreth. Had he suggested Thursdays for my “at home” day because he knew Miss Dainley would want to see the captain, and Landreth approved? Or was it merely a