Page 39 of When We Touch

“Well, shall we sit down, enjoy our tea?” Charles suggested, and so they did. Arianna had seen to it that she retained her chair—between Maggie and her father.

“So, you’ve been studying in France,” Maggie said to the girl.

Dark eyes lit upon her with annoyance and contempt. “Yes.”

“How lovely. I spent a year in Paris when I was seventeen. My Uncle Angus had suggested it was the best place to go to finishing school, before being introduced to society.”

“And did you enjoy being finished there?” Arianna asked.

“I enjoyed Paris very much,” Maggie said.

Charles frowned, his hand upon the teapot. “The water has grown cold. I’ll just call Mrs. Whitley.”

“I’ll do it, Father,” Arianna offered.

“Nonsense, child. You and Maggie are just getting to know one another.”

He walked toward the door leading to the grand foyer and from there, to the kitchens.

Arianna leaned toward Maggie suddenly. “And what did you study in Paris, Lady Margaret? Witchcraft?”

“What?” Maggie said, astonished.

“A wonderful woman, Mrs. Whitley!” Charles boomed, returning to the table. “She’s seeing to it already. Fresh tea and scones! So, how are my two beauties getting along?” He took his chair again, his smile proud at the sight of them.

“I was just asking Lady Margaret if she studied the sciences in Paris,” Arianna said sweetly.

Maggie allowed her the lie, her eyes narrowing as she smiled. “And I was just informing your lovely daughter that no, I had actually studied the sciences right here, in London. I did, however, enjoy a few seasons in Italy, during the winter, while my father was still alive.”

“Italy!” Lord Charles reached across the table, capturing Maggie’s fingers, squeezing them. “We must make a trip to Italy. And if Arianna doesn’t instantly fall in love with some rake come the spring, she’ll most certainly have to accompany us.” He winked at his daughter. “Of course, my dear, I am anxious that you meet a certain young man. A proper one. Very handsome, of course.”

“I’m young, Father. And young men can wait. To travel with you—and Lady Maggie, of course—why, I can think of nothing that I would rather do, dear Father!” Arianna said.

“I’m so sorry your brother couldn’t be here,” Charles told Maggie.

“I am, too, but he had his last fitting for tomorrow.”

“You have a brother, Lady Margaret. How nice for you,” Arianna said.

“Yes, he is very dear to me.”

“And he must think, as I do, that this wedding is a blessing and wondrous event,” Arianna said with such scathing sarcasm that Maggie was amazed Charles could miss it.

“Oh, yes,” she replied.

“Lord Charles!” Mrs. Whitley came hurrying in, her manner conveying great distress. “Father Gaines has come and needs a word with you.”

“Well, bring him in for tea!” Charles said.

“He begs your forgiveness but has a very busy afternoon. Can you spare him a few minutes in your office?”

“Certainly. Ladies, my very special ladies! Please enjoy your tea, and don’t wait for me. Naturally, there are last minute problems to be straightened out!” He rose again, planted a kiss on his daughter’s head, winked at Maggie, and headed out.

Maggie leaned forward. “Your father’s gone. So, please, feel free to speak plainly. I will do so right now. I don’t intend to pretend to be your mother in any way; you’re a breath away from being of age, so I’d be a little late.”

“My mother! You’re scarcely four or five years my senior!”

“That’s true. Except that I’m afraid those years have been long and hard.”