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“—and I don’t think you’re speaking the truth now.”
Theo lifted her chin but said nothing. What was the point in explaining to a person who saw nothing but her own self-interest?
“So …” Seraphina straightened. “Who will get our bags?”
Nobody moved.
Not even Roger.
“There must be a servant around. What about Annie? I suppose you’re going to tell me she doesn’t cook for you on Sundays.”
“We have a cold collation, so they can have a day of rest.”
“So not only do we have to make do with a second-rate guest chamber, now you’re saying there will be no hot meal?” Her sister’s voice ended on a shriek.
“Seraphina, my dear daughter—”
“This is not what I expected.” Seraphina pushed to her feet, her skirts and hands atremble. “I do not care who is up there. They are leaving. We are staying. And I will tell them so.”
Before Theo realized her sister’s intention, Seraphina had quit the room and moved up the stairs, ignoring the general when he called to her.
Theo exhaled, unsurprised when Seraphina’s husband made no move to stop her. He’d never managed to exert the slightest influence over her headstrong little sister, instead wafting behind her like a malodorous breeze.
She lifted her hands at Mama and Becky, then hastened after her outraged sister before she could intrude into the captain’s room. Oh, how wonderful it was to have Seraphina in Stapleton Court again.
Chapter 17
The sound of a carriage arriving far earlier than he expected from services had first garnered Daniel’s interest, interest stimulated further at the sounds of complaint when the heavy rap on the door met with no answer. Perhaps the persons—the voices suggested at least two—were unaware a certain resident was at home, might have his windows open, and could hear all they might be so careless to say.
“I should have known they would not be here!” came a petulant young woman’s voice.
“You were a fool to think anything else,” a man complained.
“Where are they?” Another heavy rap of the door knocker, with enough force that could wake a deaf man from his sleep.
A lower-voiced murmur.
Then the woman’s voice again. “What are we supposed to do? We have nowhere else to go.”
The familiar clatter on stones signaled another vehicle approached, suggesting the ladies had returned from services, confirmed when the woman said, “They are finally come!”
This had been followed by sounds of joy chased by those of upset, before the stomp on the stairs indicated the visitors were fast approaching. He shifted up, put his Bible to one side, and wondered if he’d be so blessed as to discover their identities. Poor Miss Stapleton. He did not imagine these guests would be as easygoing as some.
The door propelled open with a slam against the wooden sideboard, and one of the prettiest young ladies he’d ever seen stalked into the room. Well, she would have been pretty if it weren’t for the scowl darkening her features.
“Who on earth are you?” she demanded.
He raised his brows. How best to treat this intrusion? Ignore her rudeness or point it out? He had a feeling that ignoring this young madam’s rudeness was what had allowed it to reach this stage. “Did you use up all your energy knocking on the door downstairs that you had none for this room?”
“What?” She squinted at him. “I asked you a question, sir!”
“And I asked you one.”
She blinked. “You are very rude! Who are you? I demand to know!”
Before he could return the question, Miss Stapleton entered the room, her face holding such a plea that it damped further protest. “Sir, you must excuse my sister. She has had a long journey and is a little tired.”
“She is your sister?” Incredulity lined his voice.
