At the end of the meal the ladies excused themselves so that the gentlemen might enjoy their port. Annabel found Louisa (who had, sadly, been stuck up near Lord Newbury at the head of the table) and the two walked arm in arm to the drawing room.
“Lady Challis says we shall read and write and embroider until the gentlemen rejoin us,” Louisa said.
“Did you bring embroidery?”
Louisa grimaced. “I think she said something about providing it.”
“The true purpose of the house party becomes clear,” Annabel said dryly. “By the time we return to London, Lady Challis shall have an entirely new set of pillowcases.”
Louisa giggled at that, then said, “I’m going to ask someone to fetch my book. Shall I get yours as well?”
Annabel nodded, waiting while Louisa spoke to a housemaid. When she was through, they entered the drawing room, taking seats as close to the perimeter as they could. A few minutes later a maid arrived, carrying two books. She held outMiss Sainsbury and the Mysterious Colonel , and both ladies reached for it.
“Oh, how funny, we’re reading the same book!” Louisa exclaimed, seeing that both volumes were the same title.
Annabel looked over at her cousin in surprise. “Haven’t you read it already?”
Louisa shrugged. “I so enjoyedMiss Truesdale and the Silent Gentleman that I thought I would reread the other three.” She looked down at Annabel’s copy. “What part are you up to?”
“Ehrm…” Annabel opened the book and found her place. “I believe Miss Sainsbury has just thrown herself over a hedge. Or perhaps into the hedge.”
“Oh, the goat,” Louisa said breathlessly. “I loved that part.” She held up her copy. “I’m still at the beginning.”
They settled in with their books, but before either of them could turn a page, Lady Challis happened by. “What are you reading?” she asked.
“Miss Sainsbury and the Mysterious Colonel,” Louisa answered politely.
“And you, Miss Winslow?”
“Oh, the same, actually.”
“You’re reading the same book? How darling!” Lady Challis motioned toward a friend across the room. “Rebecca, come look at this. They’re reading the same book.”
Annabel was not sure why this was deemed so remarkable, but she sat quietly and waited for Lady Westfield to come over.
“Cousins,” Lady Challis declared. “Reading the same book.”
“I’ve actually read it before,” Louisa mentioned.
“What book is it?” Lady Westfield asked.
“Miss Sainsbury and the Mysterious Colonel,” Annabel said again.
“Oh, yes. By Mrs. Gorely. I quite enjoyed that one. Especially when the pirate turned out to be—”
“Don’t say anything!” Louisa exclaimed. “Annabel hasn’t finished it.”
“Oh yes, of course.”
Annabel frowned, flipping through the pages. “I thought he was a privateer.”
“It is one of my favorites,” Louisa put in.
Lady Westfield turned her attention to Annabel. “And you, Miss Winslow, are you enjoying it?”
Annabel cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure if she was precisely enjoying the book, but she did not dislike it. And there was something rather comforting about it. It reminded her of Sebastian, actually. Mrs. Gorely was one of his favorite authors, and she could see why. Bits of it almost sounded like him.
“Miss Winslow?” Lady Westfield repeated. “Are you enjoying the book?”
Annabel started, then realized she had not answered her question. “I think so. The story is quite entertaining, if a little implausible.”
“A little?” Louisa said with laugh. “It’s completely implausible. But that is what makes it so marvelous.”
“I suppose,” Annabel replied. “I just wish the writing were a little less florid. Sometimes I feel as if I am wading through adjectives.”
“Oh, I’ve just had the most marvelous idea,” Lady Challis exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “We shall save charades for another night.”
Annabel let out a huge sigh of relief. She’d always hated charades.
“Instead, we shall have a reading!”
Annabel looked up at her sharply. “What?”
“A reading. We already have two copies right here. I’m sure I have another in our library. Three ought to be more than enough.”
“You plan to read fromMiss Sainsbury ?” Louisa inquired.
“Oh, not me,” Lady Challis said, placing a hand over her heart. “The hostess never takes a role.”
Annabel was quite sure this was not true, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.
“Will you be one of our players, Miss Winslow?” Lady Challis asked. “You have such atheatrical look about you.”
Among other items of which Annabel was quite sure: this was not a compliment. But she agreed to read because, once again, there wasn’t much she could do about it.
“You should ask Mr. Grey to take part,” Louisa suggested.
Annabel determined to kick her later, since she could not reach her at the moment.
“He is a great fan of Mrs. Gorely,” Louisa continued.
“Is he?” Lady Challis murmured.
“He is,” Louisa confirmed. “We discussed our mutual admiration for the author recently.”
“Very well, then,” Lady Challis decided. “It shall be Mr. Grey. And you, too, I think, Lady Louisa.”
“Oh. No.” Louisa blushed furiously, which on Louisa was furious indeed. “I couldn’t. I’m—I’m terrible at such things.”
“No time like the present to practice, don’t you think?”
Annabel had been looking forward to a bit of revenge against her cousin, but even she thought this was too cruel. “Lady Challis, I’m sure we can find someone else who would like to take part. Or perhaps Louisa can be our director!”
“Do you need one?”
“Er, yes. I mean, of course we must. Doesn’t all theater require a director? And what is a reading if not theater?”
“Very well,” Lady Challis said with a dismissive wave. “You may sort it out amongst yourselves. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see what is taking the gentlemen so long.”
“Thank you,” Louisa said, as soon as Lady Challis had departed. “I could never have read in front of everyone.”
“I know,” Annabel said. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to reading fromMiss Sainsbury in front of the entire party, either, but at least she had had some practice at that sort of thing. She and her siblings had frequently performed theatricals and readings at home.
“What section shall we perform?” Louisa asked, thumbing through the book.
“I don’t know. I’m not even halfway through yet. But don’t,” Annabel said sharply, “make me the goat.”
Louisa chuckled at that. “No, no, you shall be Miss Sainsbury, of course. Mr. Grey will be the colonel. Oh dear, we’ll need a narrator. Perhaps Mr. Grey’s cousin?”
“I think it would be much funnier if Mr. Grey played Miss Sainsbury,” Annabel said, all nonchalance.
Louisa gasped. “Annabel, you are evil.”
Annabel shrugged. “I can be the narrator.”
“Oh, no. If you’re going to make Mr. Grey be Miss Sainsbury, you must be the colonel. Mr. Valentine will be the narrator.” Louisa frowned. “Or perhaps we ought to ask Mr. Valentine if he wishes to take part before assigning him a role.”
“I didn’t get a choice,” Annabel reminded her.
Louisa considered that. “True. Very well, let me find an appropriate passage. How long do you suppose the reading ought to be?”
“As short as we can possibly get away with,” Annabel said firmly.
Louisa flipped open her book and then flipped over several pages. “That may be difficult if we’re avoiding the goat.”