“Of course we are delighted, Mr. Ogden,” Miss Mortimer said. “How do you do?”
“Well, ma’am,” he got out. “I trust you are both also in good health?”
“Indeed we are. And you must meet our other guests,” Miss Mortimer said. “Mrs. Silver and Mr. Grey.”
Ogden swiveled on his feet and bowed again. His gaze was peculiarly penetrating while he muttered, “How do you do?”
Had Sophie told him why they were in Sutton May?
“Mr. Ogden is the village schoolmaster,” Miss Jenson said.
“We consider the school very fortunate to have him,” Miss Mortimer added. “Do sit down, sir.”
For a moment Constance thought he would insist on standing, but he did lower himself into the place next to Sophie on the chaise longue, and Miss Jenson brought him a cup of tea. While she offered the sandwiches, the door opened again and a very different young man swaggered in.
It was clear at once that he was Miss Mortimer’s nephew. His coat was of the finest cloth and best cut, his posture both graceful and arrogant.
“Am I in time for tea, Auntie?” he drawled. “And how delightful! We have visitors. Miss Sophie, your devoted servant!” He bowed elaborately, his eyes dancing and crinkling at the corners in a way that might have been attractive if it had not been quite so studied. He was a handsome, charming man—and he knew it. Clearly, he was used to making the most of it.
“Mr. Mortimer,” Sophie said carelessly, “I thought you were leaving us.”
“Oh, Aunt Jessica persuaded me to stay for her card party—which I am happy to do, since you will be there.” Mortimer’s eyes gleamed with rather more malice as he turned to the schoolmaster. “Why, Oggie, is it you? I thought you had to work for your crusts?”
Ogden barely looked at him, though some of his tea slopped into his saucer. Mortimer undoubtedly saw this sign of discomfort or annoyance for his mocking smile widened.
“I don’t suppose you will be imperiling your soul—or said stipend—at my aunt’s devilish gaming tables.”
“I shall be busy,” Ogden muttered.
“Perry, our other guests,” Miss Mortimer intervened gently.
Mortimer had little choice but to leave off tormenting the schoolmaster and turn to be introduced to Constance and Solomon. His eyes widened as they landed on Constance, but that seemed to be his only spontaneity. He crinkled his eyes again and let them twinkle attractively.
“Mrs. Silver. I am enchanted.”
“Oh dear. Have some tea,” Constance added, since Miss Jenson was approaching with his cup and saucer.
He promptly sat down between Constance and Solomon, though he lazily offered the latter his hand. “How do you do, Mr. Grey. What brings you to our backwater?”
“A little business,” Solomon said.
“And you, Mrs. Silver?” Mortimer turned back to Constance, his eyes leaving hers to drift down over her chest and waist.
“The same business,” Constance said.
“Oh.” Mortimer’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Are you…?” He gestured from one to the other.
“Betrothed?” Solomon said coolly. “Yes.”
“I did not know that,” Sophie said from the chaise longue, adding to Ogden, “They are friends of my father’s.”
“It isn’t a secret,” Constance said.
“When will you be married?” Sophie asked.
“Soon,” Solomon said.
They had been saying that since before Christmas. It would be spring soon…
