Free A Christmas Guest by Anne Perry

still watch Bedelia? Ordinary masculine fascination with beauty? Or good manners, because this was her house?
    Arthur did not watch her the same way.
    Agnes looked at both of them, and seemed to see it also. There was a sadness in her eyes. Was it an awareness that she could never compete? Perhaps that was the sense of failure Grandmama detected, and understood. She knew it well: a plain face, no magic in the eyes or the voice, above all the knowledge of not being loved.
    Envy? Even hate, over the years? Why? Simply beauty? Could it matter so much? Very few women were more than pleasing in their youth, and perhaps gaining a little sense of style, or even better, wit, in their maturity. And she had not been left on the shelf. But sisters did compete. It was inevitable. Was money also involved, and now a peerage, too?
    The conversation continued around her, concern for those who would be alone over the Christmas period and possibly in need, those whose health was poor, anyone to whom they could or should give a small gift. Would the weather deteriorate?
    â€œDo you often get shut in by the snow?” Grandmama inquired with interest. “It must be a rather frightening experience.”
    â€œNot at all,” Zachary assured her. “We will be quite safe. We have food and fuel, and it will not be for more than a day or two. But please don’t concern yourself. If it happens at all, it will be in January and February. You know the old saying ‘As the days get longer, the weather gets stronger.’ ” He smiled, transforming his face from its earlier gravity to a surprising warmth.
    She smiled back, enjoying the sudden and inexplicable sense of freedom it gave her. “I have found it very often true,” she agreed. “And I am sure you are quite wise enough to guard against any possible need. It was rather more such things as someone falling ill that I was thinking of. But I daresay that is a difficulty for all people who live in the wilder and more beautiful country areas.”
    She continued being charming. It was like having a new toy. She turned to Bedelia. “You know, Mrs. Harcourt, I would never have seen Romney Marsh as anything more than a very flat coast, rather vulnerable, with a permanent smell of the sea, until I met Miss Barrington. But on our walks I saw how she was aware of so much more! She spoke of the wildflowers in the spring, and the birds. She knew the names of a great many of them, you know, and their habits. The water birds especially.” She was inventing at least part of this as she was going along. It was exhilarating. The surprised and anxious faces around her increased her sense of adventure.
    She drew in her breath and went on. “I had never realized before how perfectly everything fits into its own place in the scheme of things.”
    â€œReally?” Bedelia said, her voice almost expressionless. “It is an interest she had developed recently. In fact, since she left England altogether. She must have gained it from reading. Except perhaps in her early childhood, she never saw them in life.”
    â€œShe did not go walking a great deal?” Grandmama asked innocently.
    â€œShe was only here for a matter of hours,” Bedelia informed her. “She did not have time to go out at all. Surely she told you that she arrived without giving us any prior warning, and we were thus unable to accommodate her. Do you imagine we would have asked Joshua Fielding to offer his hospitality were it possible for us to do so ourselves?”
    So she was correct! Maude had been given the single dose of peppermint water by someone in the house. She must think very rapidly. Better to retreat than to cause an argument, much as the words stuck in her mouth. Was it better to be considered a fool and of no danger at all, or as a highly knowledgeable woman who needed to be watched? She must decide immediately. She could not be both, and time was short.
    Bedelia was