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Sarah’s heart sank further even as she raised her chin. This was wretched. Kenver’s parents were clearlynotthe kindly couple she’d imagined. She was reminded of the worst gathering she’d ever attended, an evening party during the London season, where cruel quips and crushing snubs had been the order of the night. None of her friends had been there, and she’d ended up half behind a wall hanging to escape notice. “Mama was a Fairley,” she answered.
“A connection of the Hampshire Fairleys?”
“Not that I am aware of. She grew up in Devon. Her father’s circumstances were similar to mine.” Sarah pushed on. If she was to be interrogated, she might as well get it over. “I was educated near Bath.” She was happy to name her school. No one could fault that. It was one of the best in the country. Immediately, she found she was mistaken.
“Young ladies are better taught at home,” said Kenver’s mother. “I suppose you have no training in managing a large household.” She gestured at the grand room.
“I’m sure you will have much to teach me,” dared Sarah.
The older woman’s eyes flashed like a duelist ready to fire.
“I will show you our quarters,” put in Kenver, speaking at last. He offered his arm and turned toward the stair. Sarah took it like a lifeline.
“Sarah will be in the room across from mine,” said his mother behind them.
Kenver turned back and looked at her. “But we were to take the state suite. I gave orders…”
“I heard,” interrupted Lady Trestan, so dryly that Sarah had to suppress a wince. “But when I looked into preparing it for you, I discovered a great patch of damp in the ceiling.”
“I didn’t see anything like that,” Kenver said.
“You must learn to be more observant.” His mother spoke as if she was addressing someone far younger than twenty-three. “We’ve had to bring workmen in to tear it down. They are looking over the whole wing actually. That part of the house has not been tended in some time.”
“As I had mentioned last spring,” Kenver said.
“Always ready to throw money about,” muttered his father.
“We didn’t know the suite would be required any timesoon,” added his mother.
“The room next to mine would do then,” Kenver said, his cheek reddening slightly at the implication.
“The fireplace smokes,” replied his mother.
“It does?”
“Oh, yes. Dreadfully.”
Sarah didn’t believe her. But she could see it was no use arguing.Heropinion was worthless here. She waited for Kenver to respond. What excuse would Lady Trestan find if they suggested she share Kenver’s bedchamber? Not that she could imagine making such a request of these icy aristocrats.
Instead of fighting on, Kenver turned away and led her over to the stairs and up them. Sarah felt hostile eyes on her back all the way. When she was certain they were out of earshot, she said, “You didn’t tell me your parents were so opposed to our marriage.”
“They were not entirely in favor,” he began.
“Kenver, they obviously hate everything about it. And me.”
“Of course they don’t.” He frowned as they walked down one corridor and turned into another. “I didn’t know they would be so…”
“Repelling?” It seemed the right word. They had so clearly wanted to eject her, like castellans fighting off an invader.
“I’ve never seen them so…impolite.”
“You never married against their wishes before.”
He looked down at her. “They’ll come around once they get to know you better.”
Sarah thought the opposite was more likely. “I would never wish to come between you and your parents.” Clearly she had, unknowing. “Oh, what are we to do?”
“It will be fine.”
