The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals 2) - Page 12

That had been advice from Walter.

A twinge of guilt rattled me further. Sure, Walter had been deceitful and conniving, but he’d been my friend. He’d seen us as the same. The type of men who weren’t invited to the club and had to worm our way in by nefarious means. However, I wasn’t that way. Despite my circumstances, or perhaps because of them, I held integrity and honesty above all else. Without them, who was I? A poor man who was also a liar? I had to claim something to be proud of. My character was all I had.

I tried to put my trepidations aside to enjoy a bath with the hot water and nice-smelling soap. Afterward, I shaved at the mirror. I didn’t look too bad considering the long train ride. My dark hair looked nice after a good wash. Dark smudges under my eyes had been there since I joined the army, so there was nothing to do about them. Nightmares plagued me and disturbed my sleep. Perhaps here in the quiet, I would sleep better.

Although I’d seen the same dark circles on Theo. Maybe the quiet didn’t help.

When I was done, I put on a fresh shirt and my light gray suit. At a few minutes to four, I headed back downstairs.

I can do this, I told myself as I walked into the sitting room. Dark paneling and brightly colored furniture gave the room a cheery feel, as did a roaring fire and the scent of cinnamon.

A tall, rather intimidating man stood by the fire. Sitting on the couch, a petite blonde woman had a book open on her lap. Two little girls played with dolls under a large desk.

“Hello there, you must be Phillip. I’m Lord Barnes, Josephine’s father.” He bounded across the room and pumped my hand, then slapped me on the shoulder. “We’re awfully glad you came.” His British accent made him seem even more posh to me.

The pretty woman on the couch had risen by this point and came forward, introducing herself as Quinn Barnes, Josephine’s mother. “Please call me Quinn. We’re not formal here.” She giggled. “Other than Jasper, that is.”

She didn’t look much older than Josephine. I knew from the letters that Quinn Barnes was her stepmother and quite a few years younger than Lord Barnes. However, I hadn’t been prepared for radiant beauty. The kind that came from the inside. “Thank you, Quinn.”

“Come sit,” Quinn said. “Are you famished? We have all this.” She gestured toward an impressive spread on the coffee table. “Sandwiches and little cakes. Lizzie was excited to welcome a new guest and made way too much.”

I sat in one of the chairs, eyeing the food as my stomach growled. Quinn handed me a small plate. She had this way about her that made me instantly at ease. “Help yourself to whatever you want. I can remember the first time I came here, having traveled such a long distance, all I could think of was food. I was practically starved back then.”

“She rationed out her food to one meal a day,” Lord Barnes said. “I’ve been fattening her up ever since.”

“Darling, you’re making me sound as if I’m a cow you’re preparing for market,” Quinn said, laughing.

“The attempt to fatten you clearly hasn’t worked,” I said. “You’re positively beautiful.” Why had I just said that? What an idiot I was.

“Why, thank you, Phillip. What a nice thing to say.”

“I agree,” Lord Barnes said as he knelt to kiss his wife’s cheek. He straightened to his full height. “The ladies are having tea, but I was thinking of a whiskey. Care to join me?”

“No, sir. I don’t drink whiskey.” This wasn’t entirely true, but I wanted to make a good imp

ression.

“I’ll pour you a cup of tea,” Quinn said. “In this house, we have a lot of tea. I’m outnumbered with all the British folks.”

“A hot cup of tea is most welcome.” I filled a plate high with six small sandwiches cut into neat squares. From what I could tell, they were ham and cheese.

“Please, eat,” Quinn said. “Jo and the others will be down any minute, but let’s not wait for them. The early bird gets the worm.”

I did as I was asked, only too gladly. The bread was soft and instead of cheese, I discovered they were spread thick with butter. “This is…delicious.”

Quinn smiled and nodded her head approvingly. “Lizzie is the greatest cook the world has ever seen.”

“Oh, dearie me, not true.” A voice came from behind me. I turned to see a redheaded woman making her way into the room with another tray of sandwiches.

“This is Lizzie,” Quinn said.

“Welcome, welcome,” Lizzie said. “You must let me know all of your favorite foods and I’ll make them all for you while you’re here.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I don’t want to cause any extra work for anyone.”

“Nonsense. This is what I live for.” Lizzie’s face and figure were round. Pink cheeks glowed with health and good humor.

“This is the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten,” I said.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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