Free Blossom Time by Joan Smith Page B

rather hard bump as a body hit the floor, then a moment’s silence as the music wavered to a halt, followed by a buzz of voices and some laughter.
    “Thank God Lord Sylvester has left!” Rosalind said, and hastened to the ballroom. Harwell gave a bah of disgust at her concern and went after her.
    Mrs. Warbuck, a good-natured lady, had recovered both her feet and her humor by the time Rosalind arrived. She was brushing off her skirt and straightening her turban.
    ‘I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” Rosalind asked.
    “I’m fine. ‘Twas only Sukey chasing her kitten. I didn’t know what hit me at first,” she said, laughing.
    “I’ll give her a good scold and put her straight to bed. This is really the outside of enough.”
    The miscreant was led forward by Dick, with Snow Drop tucked in her arms. Dick was annoyed, but Annabelle, who was with him, was livid.
    “This has gone too far. The child is incorrigible!” she exclaimed. “Whoever heard of a child attending a rout party? You’ve got to do something with her, Dick. If you don’t, I shall. I won’t permit this sort of rowdiness at Apple Hill.”
    “It’s not your house!” Sukey said.
    “It soon will be!” Annabelle shot back. Her cabbage eyes narrowed into angry slits.
    “I’ll take her upstairs,” Rosalind said, and took Sukey by the arm to lead her off. She gave her sister a good scold and warned her not to come downstairs again that night.
    “I wish Dick wouldn’t marry her,” Sukey said, pulling her nightgown over her head. “I’m glad you’ll be here to take care of me when he does. Don’t stay too long in London. Come back before Dick marries her. Promise me, Roz.” She directed a commanding blue gaze at her sister and hopped into bed.
    “Go to sleep,” Rosalind said, tucking in the blanket, but she felt like a traitor when she left the room.
    This business tonight wasn’t really Annabelle’s fault. Sukey was getting out of hand. She needed firm guidance. Dick wouldn’t let Annabelle abuse Sukey. There was no physical danger, but Sukey would be deuced unhappy. Rosalind determined to find a good, kindhearted governess for her before she left for London. It was really the governess who would raise Sukey.
    Rosalind still felt troubled when she returned belowstairs. Harwell was waiting for her in the hall.
    “I expect this will be dumped in my dish for giving her the kitten,” he said.
    “No, it’s my fault. Sukey is getting too forward for her own good lately.”
    “It’s not the first time she’s attended one of your parties.”
    “It’s the first time she sent one of my guests flying across the room. It really was too bad of her.”
    Harwell just batted his hand. “Mrs. Warbuck took it in good spirit. I shouldn’t worry about it.”
    “It’s Sukey I’m worried about. I fear she and Annabelle will never rub along after I’m gone.”
    “Well, at least you didn’t say Lord Sylvester wouldn’t like it.”
    “No more he would,” she said, with a tsk . “It was a good thing Amanda stole him away after all, or he would know how shabbily we go on here at Apple Hill.”
    “Speaking of shabby, I think he and Amanda might have waited another hour before leaving.”
    “Oh, he is returning,” she said. “He is just going to pick up the famous fragment.”
    “You must root through your library and see if you have anything similar to lure him. A few lines from Spencer, a Shakespearean play scribbled on the back of a menu.”
    “He has already inquired whether we are related to the famous Richard Lovelace who wrote about Althea in Prison, you know. Or probably you don’t know.”
    “I’m not a complete illiterate!” he said, offended. “I’ve heard of Lovelace. ‘Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.’ Was the author some kin to you?”
    “I don’t think so. It seems he was from Kent, or inherited a property somewhere near here. Lord Sylvester wants to search the old family papers for a