Theo grinned. "Yes, I enjoyed that. But he doesn't give his mother set-downs, and I'd dearly like to oblige."
"I could put one of my white mice in her bed," Rosie offered. "She was horrid to me yesterday. She said I was too young to be in the drawing room, particularly with dirty nails. I didn't think they were dirty… but they might have been," she added. "I'd been digging for worms."
"I think the white mouse is more likely to suffer than the Witch Gilbraith," Theo said. "She'd probably squash it. Actually, it'd probably die of fright if she so much as looks at it."
"Oh, then I won't," Rosie said matter-of-factly, bringing a sheet of pinned butterflies close to her bespectacled eyes for examination.
"We'd better go downstairs," Emily said reluctantly. "We can't leave Mama holding the fort for too long."
"This time tomorrow they'll be gone." Clarissa rose to her feet.
"And we'll be installed in the dower house."
"And Theo will be a married lady," Rosie finished for her sisters. "I wonder what that'll be like."
"Are you nervous?" Emily asked, linking her arm in Theo's as they left the schoolroom.
Theo shook her head. "About the future, perhaps, but not about tomorrow."
"Or tomorrow night?" Clarissa gave her a sharp glance as they turned out of the west wing into the central hallway.
Theo grinned. "No, most definitely not about that."
"But has Mama told you what happens?"
"Yes, but I already knew, only I couldn't really tell her that."
"How did you know?"
"Stoneridge has been very informative," she said mischievously.
"Theo, you haven't already -"
"Not quite, because Stoneridge wouldn't," she explained. "But I'm not expecting any surprises."
"Surprises about what, cousin?"
The three gasped at the earl's cool voice coming from the corridor behind them. How much had he heard?
Theo spun round. Sylvester was laughing, his eyes bright, and she knew he'd heard a great deal more than he should. "Were you eavesdropping, my lord?"
"Not at all. I just happened to come up behind you," he said, raising his hands in a gesture of disclaimer. "But I'll tell you something, my love, if you're not expecting any surprises, you might be in for a shock."
He let his eyes rest on their flushed faces as they absorbed this. They were all three distinctly unnerved by his sudden appearance, and he enjoyed the sensation of having the upper hand for once in the massed company of Belmont females. Deliberately, he cupped Theo's chin in the palm of his hand and kissed her mouth.
"Life is full of surprises, cousins." Releasing Theo's chin, he offered a bow of mock formality and turned aside into the long gallery.
"I'm glad Mama wouldn't let him choose me," Clarissa said thoughtfully, examining her younger sister's countenance. "He's very worldly and… and, well…" She searched for the right word. "Mature." She settled for that, although it wasn't quite what she meant. "Not that I don't like him," she added hastily. "I do… but he's a little intimidating."
"An understatement," Emily declared. "But he seems to understand Theo." She knew this was what her mother believed, although Elinor had confided to her eldest daughter that she expected the marriage to be punctuated by fireworks.
"I believe that disposes of my marriage quite satisfactorily," Theo said dryly. "I'm going to my room. There are things I have to do."
Her sisters watched her retrace her steps, then exchanged a speaking look and went downstairs to support their mother in her continuing ordeal with her guests.
Theo closed her bedroom door with a sigh of relief. Tonight would be her last night in this room. Since her grandmother's death, the apartment traditionally occupied by the Countess of Stoneridge had stood empty, the furniture under holland covers, but now, after twenty years, it had been prepared for the new countess.
Apart from new curtains and bed hangings, the furnishings were the same as they'd been for three hundred years. The feather mattress had been refilled, the paneling and cherrywood furniture polished and waxed, the tapestry carpet new stitched where it had frayed, the heavy silver candlesticks polished until the old silver seemed almost translucent. And yesterday she'd seen Dan, the handyman, oiling the hinges on the connecting door between the conjugal bedchambers.
Her lips still felt warmed by that light kiss, and she crossed her arms over her breasts as familiar tingles of excitement lifted the fine hairs on her spine. Tomorrow night the mysteries would be revealed, and she would fully understand these strange surges of desire.
Her private smile was unconsciously smug as she picked up the china doll on the window seat, thoughtfully examining its round placid face and bright-blue glass eyes. She'd keep this room just as it was for her own daughter.
But there must be a son too. A son who would eventually become the sixth Earl of Stoneridge. Her father's blood would run in his grandson's veins, and the child would return Stoneridge to the Belmonts.
Theo sat on the window seat, no longer aware that she was cradling the doll just as she had done as a little girl. She closed her eyes, conjuring up her grandfather's face, clear and strong still in her memory. Her father's face was lost to her, except in the portrait on her wall. Opening her eyes again, she gazed at the picture, looking for the distinctive resemblances between father and son. They were there in the high-bridged nose, the full upper lip, the set of the chin. When the time came, she would make her son in their image.
But there would be no children yet awhile. The little bottle that would ensure that lay hidden at the bottom of one of the drawers in the dresser.
At noon the following day she walked up the aisle on the arm of Sir Charles Fairfax, who had once thought to see her married to his own son.
Sylvester watched her approach, smiling slightly at the demure traditional appearance she presented, the raggle-taggle gypsy he'd first encountered invisible beneath the floating veil, the lithe figure, so quick and so efficient in combat, disguised by the yards of virginal white silk and the gauzy train clouding behind her, borne by her elder sisters.
Rosie, in pink muslin, walked solemnly in their wake, bearing a bouquet of white roses. She seemed to be concentrating on her steps, Sylvester thought, noting how her eyes were riveted to the ground. On second thought, she was probably on the lookout for some interesting example of insect life in the cracks in the paving stones.
Theo stepped up beside Sylvester as Sir Charles covered her hand briefly with his own in affectionate reassurance. He was a dear, sweet man who'd known her since she was a baby, but he wasn't her grandfather… he wasn't her father. And she knew Elinor would be feeling the same. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked rapidly, grateful for the concealment of her veil. She would not break down; she must be strong for her mother as Elinor would be strong for her.
Then her sisters stepped aside, and Reverend Haversham began the ceremony.
It was over very quickly, Theo reflected, as her husband lifted her veil and the organ burst into renewed life. Too quickly for such a momentous change in one's life. She was now a Gilbraith.
But only in name.
She'd exchanged her name for the right to call Stoneridge her own. For the right to see her children inherit their grandfather's birthright.
His lips were on hers in the ritual kiss, and their open eyes met. For a puzzling second she thought she saw something almost like triumph in the gray gaze. Then it disappeared, and she saw instead a sensual invitation that she knew was mirrored in her own gaze.