Free Danse de la Folie by Sherwood Smith Page B

moment.”
    St. Tarval looked uneasy. “Lucretia has said countless times
that she feels for your lack of a mother or a sister, and I know she looks out
ways to help you to the mode with her suggestions.”
    Kitty sensed the question underlying these words, and she
knew that delicacy forbade her from entering into a discussion from which
either of them might not be able to extricate themselves creditably. “It is
very kind in her, I am sure,” Kitty said in a subdued manner, and bade her
brother a good night.

SEVEN
    After breakfast the next morning, unprecedented noise
reverberated through the windows.
    Clarissa and Kitty rose to look out in time to see an
impressive cavalcade of three carriages bump up the drive, and vanish beyond
the hedgerow dividing the house from the stable yard, the horses in snow up to
their fetlocks.
    Leading the way was the ancient berline belonging to the
Decourcey family. The second bore the Chadwick arms, and all three were piled
high with luggage.
    Kitty said, “Perhaps we should go to the drawing room?”
    The young ladies were standing in the chilly room, in which
a housemaid was just laying a fire, when the butler announced Lord Chadwick’s
steward. Mr. Bede greeted Miss Harlowe, and then handed her a sealed letter.
    Clarissa had assumed as soon as she saw the mountain of
baggage that her aunt had equated Tarval Hall with the Antipodes. The letter and
the huge sum of money it said had been entrusted to Mr. Bede confirmed her
speculations.
    Mr. Bede said, “If you are wishful to set out today, Miss,
if I may be permitted to say, it’s coming on gray. We’d be best to start out as
soon as may be, but I smell snow on the wind.”
    Clarissa glanced from him to Kitty’s pale face, then said
firmly, “We will depart on the morrow, for Lady Catherine will accompany us.
Did you bring Oliver along, Mr. Bede?”
    “Yes ma’am.”
    “Then we shall send him on ahead with a letter to Lady
Chadwick. Will you see to it that he has something to eat, while I pen this
letter? Thank you, Mr. Bede.”
    As soon as the steward had left the room, Kitty danced
around the cold room, far too ecstatic for mere words.
    o0o
    Oliver the footman departed just after midday, under
lowering steel-gray clouds. Having been issued a generous sum to see him back
into Hampshire, he left in sanguine spirits. If the weather forced him to halt,
it would mean a snug night at an inn.
    Up in the house, Clarissa watched him go, her spirits
uncertain. She moved about the room, absently picking up and setting down a
little China shepherdess. The truth was, she was ambivalent about quitting
Tarval Hall. She knew why she was ambivalent, which meant she must depart as
soon as they were ready.
    She had begun her stay disapproving of a man in St. Tarval’s
position indulging in unlawful acts like smuggling, but from little things she
had overheard, she had gained a better understanding of burden of debt that the
marquess had inherited, with little prospect of getting his neglected, heavily
mortgaged lands in good heart once again. She could understand his following a
course of action his father had once established.
    “Pray, is something amiss, Clarissa?” Kitty’s voice broke
into her thoughts.
    Clarissa set down the shepherdess, her face warming. “I beg
your pardon. I was woolgathering. By now they should have carried those trunks
to my bedchamber. Might I beg you to step upstairs with me? I wish to show you
something.”
    The two were crossing the great, marble-floored front hall,
when the door opened, and they were met by the marquess. Snowflakes dotted his
glossy black curls, the shoulders of his greatcoat and his riding boots.
    After he greeted the young ladies, he smiled at Kitty. “Forgive
me for casting a damper on your quite understandable desire to flee your home,
but it looks to me like it is coming on to blow.”
    “I have already spoken to Mr. Bede,” Clarissa said. “I have
only to apologize for saddling you