Free Edenbrooke by Julianne Donaldson Page B

nice people. It was inevitable. There was a reason Grandmother had warned me not to sing.
    My heart raced in nervous anticipation, panic streaming through my veins. I picked up my glass but found my hand was shaking too much to carry it safely to my lips. I set it back down. The last thing I needed was to spill my drink down the front of my gown.
    “What is wrong?” Philip’s voice was low, and his brow knit with concern.
    “Nothing,” I lied. I stared at my plate, trying to breathe slowly, or at least normally. It wasn’t working.
    Philip was still watching me. Luckily, no one else seemed to be paying attention. “You’re a terrible liar. What is it?”
    My face was burning, my stomach in knots. This was only getting worse. I had to tell him. “I can’t sing,” I whispered.
    He looked surprised. “Yes, you can.”
    I shook my head.
    Lady Caroline turned to me. “Marianne, I am so pleased to hear that you are musical. You know, Philip and Louisa are both very musical. I think we shall have many enjoyable evenings here now that you have joined us. Why, perhaps you and Philip could sing a duet!”
    Terror seized me. I looked at Philip in mute appeal. His lips twitched, then quivered, then his shoulders shook. I glared at him as he gave up the fight, leaned back in his chair, and laughed out loud. Odious man!
    Mrs. Clumpett asked, “Oh, what joke have I missed?”
    Philip said in a shaky voice, “I’m afraid we have effectively terrified Miss Daventry. She may run away tonight and never come back.”
    Lady Caroline’s brow wrinkled in consternation. “Philip, please explain yourself.”
    I was surprised at how stern her voice could sound.
    “She doesn’t want to sing for us, Mother. I volunteered her without her permission.” He chuckled.
    Mrs. Clumpett gasped. Mr. Clumpett rubbed a hand over his mouth, as if to remove a smile, and looked at his plate. Lady Caroline looked horrified.
    “Philip. It sounds to me as if you’ve been a terrible host! You have forced our guest into an uncomfortable situation, manipulated us into playing along with your game, and then laughed at her discomfort! And on her first night here!” She glared at him. “I am very disappointed in you.”
    All my terror changed to gratification upon hearing him rebuked so thoroughly. Philip at least had the decency to look chagrined, his cheeks faintly flushed as he received his scolding.
    Lady Caroline turned her attention to me. “You might suppose, based on my son’s behavior, that we have no sense of how to honor a guest in our home. Please believe me when I say that Philip’s actions do not reflect the values of our family.”
    I glanced at Philip and noticed his jaw was clenched and his cheeks ruddy. How humiliating to be so scolded in front of a guest. A small bloom of compassion unfolded within me.
    “Lady Caroline, I’m afraid you misunderstood. I knew that he was playing a game the whole time. In fact, I am probably responsible for what happened just now.” I glanced at him. He was watching me with an arrested expression. “I started this game at the inn last night and this is simply a continuation of it. So if you are angry with your son’s behavior as a host then you should also be angry with mine as a guest. I am sorry to have been the cause of such discord.”
    Lady Caroline listened to my speech with surprise. “Well. If you are not offended, then I will not be angry.” Her voice had softened to its normal mildness. She looked from me to Philip in obvious curiosity. “It seems you two understand each other and would get along better without my interference. I apologize for scolding you, Philip.”
    He smiled affectionately. “Mother, you should never apologize for scolding me. I am sure I would miss it if you ever stopped.”
    She laughed and I sighed with relief. I did not have to sing, Lady Caroline was not angry, and Philip was not humiliated. Everything was comfortable again. Dessert was brought in, and