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“Primrose Farm,” Lucas said, pitching his voice above Susan’s, “can be brought into good shape incrementally, we concluded, Mama. The priorities are to get the farmhouse habitable for my bride and me”—he glanced at Lavinia—“and gradually bring the acreage into full use. Any other details, I will refrain from sharing until I have discussed them with Lavinia, as I promised her I would.”
“How unusual,” Isobel said, “for a woman to wish to know the details that accompany the running of an estate. I, for one, am grateful I have Thomas to see to such tedious things—with Father Jennings, of course. And Finch’s invaluable assistance.”
“I understand your point,” Lavinia replied, hoping she wasn’t about to say something better left unsaid. She looked adoringly at Lucas, as was her role to perform, also hoping it would mitigate her next comment. “But Primrose Farm, for the time being at least, belongs to me. And since any work that must proceed must have my signature attached, I prefer to sign my name with full knowledge. Lucas and I are in full agreement on this.” Lavinia wasn’t going to make a friend of Isobel with her comment, but it couldn’t be helped. It was the best answer possible without blurting out that the betrothal was all a sham.
Isobel looked at Lavinia with a feigned admiration Lavinia was able to see straight through. “How perfectly brave of you. Lucas, you have found a true gem. I’m so relieved.”
Thomas and Lucas shared a look then that spoke volumes. Did Thomas know he’d stolen Isobel from his brother? He must. And Lucas had told Lavinia he’d gotten over his feelings for Isobel, but had he? The shared look suggested they had unfinished business.
Lavinia’s presence here had somehow made things worse for everyone.
“I am curious about the individuals in the portraits I’ll be viewing later,” she said, hoping to take the conversation into more genial areas. “Perhaps you all can tell me about them so I’m prepared when I meet them face-to-face.”
“Excellent idea,” Viscount Thurlby said, giving her a look of approval, which surprised and pleased Lavinia. “My favorite portrait is of Edmund Jennings, first Viscount Thurlby, for whom our little Edmund is named. He was rather pivotal in these parts during the Glorious Revolution and the ascension of William and Mary to the monarchy. A colorful character, from what I’ve read. But I believe you will enjoy yourself much more, Lavinia, if Lucas tells you of the rest of his ancestors when you are actually able to put a face with a name.”
“And with that introduction, we ladies will depart,” Lady Thurlby announced. She rose, and Lucas’s sisters and sisters-in-law followed suit. “Do be sure to ask your cousins if they will provide a small encore performance for us tomorrow evening, after they have rested? Such quaint people they are. Miss Weston in particular seems almost familiar to me for some reason.”
“Thank you, Lady Thurlby; I shall,” Lavinia said.
“Come, then, Lavinia,” Lucas said, rising to his feet as well. “It is time for you to meet the rest of the family, so to speak.”
