Because she hadn’t wanted either of them. Her gentleman callers had not pleased her. She’d thought them boring and had preferred being alone than with one of them. Perhaps shewasunnatural.
The idea was unsettling. Almost as unsettling as her realization that Minnie didn’t speak up to counter their mother’s accusation. Did she believe Portia was unnatural as well?
Portia snapped the reins and trotted Honey home.
When they reached their front door, Portia broke her silence with a terse, “We’re home.”
“Yes, please don’t be too long seeing to the animals,” Lady Maclean said, rising and opening the door of the pony cart.
“Do you need some help?” Minnie asked.
Portia swiveled in her seat to glare as hard as she could at her sister who had not stepped up to defend her. It felt good to have a focus for her own discontent.
“Do you?” Minnie repeated, apparently unmoved by the glare.
“It won’t take but a moment,” Portia replied through clenched teeth.
Minnie ignored her ill temper. “Then I shall help Mother. I’ll see you inside.” Minnie hopped out of the cart.
“Yes, go help Mother,” Portia echoed. Minnie waved off her mockery.
Portia steamed with anger as she drove Honey around to the stables. The pony, a milk cow, andtwo goats were stabled here. On the side of the barn was a coop for Minnie’s chickens and geese.
Portia wasted no time putting Honey up for the night. In fact, she threw the hay into the stall.
But as she worked, her temper cooled, to be replaced by hurt.
Hadn’t her mother seen her dancing with Colonel Chattan? Of course, he had a motive for asking her to dance, but her mother didn’t know that. Mr. Longacre had asked her as well. There, that was two men who hadn’t seen her as too old for interest ... although Mr. Longacre was very elderly himself.
Yes, she was over five and twenty. Yes, she had a sharp tongue. But, no, she wasn’t ready to be tucked away and ignored.
And she’d just realized that tonight.
Owl came into the barn with a meow of greeting. She jumped up on a keg barrel turned upside down.
“Is it wrong to want something more?” Portia asked the cat as she gave her a pet.
Purring, Owl arched her back and seemed to shake her head no.
Portia had to laugh. She gave the cat human qualities far too often.
But on this point, Owl might be wrong. ColonelChattan’s face rose in Portia’s mind. He’d even smelled good. His shaving soap had some sandalwood in it but there was a masculine air about him as well. Handsome, intense, intelligent ... and a man on a quest. Could there be a combination of qualities in a man more devastating to the female heart?
Or should she sayhearts? He had created quite a stir with the women at the Assembly and she’d be wise to remember that some things were beyond her reach.
Portia left the barn and walked to the house, Owl trailing behind her.
It was a long time before she fell asleep, and when she did, she dreamed of dancing ... in Colonel Chattan’s arms. It was a silly dream. An impossible one.
Portia overslept the next morning. She wasn’t the only one. Her mother and Minnie were still abed. She made quick work of her toilette, weaving her unruly curls into one long braid and scrubbing her face. She reached for her glasses and then remembered her mother had not returned them the night before. She would ask for them back once her mother woke, and then wear them every day just to spite her.
Downstairs, Glennis was busy cooking and cleaning. “The day is half over, miss. I’ve not known you to hug your pillow.”
“It was a late night,” Portia murmured.
“And an eventful one. I hear you have news.”
Portia smiled. “Yes, my sister has accepted Mr. Tolliver’s proposal for her hand.”
