Sherbrooke Twins

“Ma’am,” Judith said, rising immediately and giving the dowager a graceful curtsy suited for a duchess. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Jason has told me about you.”

“He has, has he?” The dowager humphed loudly and took herself to a large winged chair and sat herself down.

“I asked Hollis to fetch me some nutty buns. Where are they?”

“Why don’t Judith and I find out?” Jason was on his feet, his hand reaching for Judith’s when the dowager said, “Oh no. I want the girl to remain here. Jason, you go get my nutty buns for me. Now, girl, you have a cheap Irish name. Who are your parents? How is Lady Arbuckle related to you? Where is Lady Arbuckle?”

“She went to her room, a headache, I believe.”

Douglas said, “Mother, Alex already told you about Judith. She isn’t here for an inquisition. Let Alex pour you a cup of tea and give one of your lovely smiles to our young guest.”

The dowager said, “Young lady, do you know that the Virgin Bride visits the ladies of the house?”

Judith, mouth ajar, said, “No, ma’am. I haven’t yet met the Virgin Bride. Jason has mentioned her, as did Corrie, but I don’t know anything about her.”

“She is a ghost, you ni

“Er, I really couldn’t say, ma’am,” Judith said and shot the countess an agonized look. Alexandra merely rolled her eyes, poured the tea, added exactly one small teaspoon of milk, and carried the cup to her mother-in-law.

The dowager eyed the tea, handed the cup back to her and said, “There is too much milk in there. It looks soggy. I have told you countless times how to prepare my tea, yet you still can’t manage something even that simple.”

Alexandra smiled down at the old woman she’d known and suffered nearly thirty years of her life. Something unfamiliar washed through her, something hot and deliciously free, and it filled her brain to overflowing. She never stopped smiling. “If you don’t like the tea, ma’am, I suggest that you pour it yourself.” She set the teacup down on the small table beside the dowager and walked away.

The dowager was so shocked by this unexpected behavior that she was speechless, for perhaps nine seconds. “It is your responsibility as the countess of Northcliffe to pour the tea, young lady! I didn’t want you to be responsible, but my poor Douglas had to marry you, so that was that. But look at you, speaking back to me, your words all sly and mean-”

Douglas rose, tall and straight. He looked at his mother dispassionately, wondering why he’d allowed her reign of terror to continue for so very long. Respect, he thought. Damnable respect drummed into his head from the cradle, even though it wasn’t merited in his mother’s case. He said easily, every inch the earl, “Alex is right, ma’am. If you don’t like your tea, then pour it yourself. Now, I want you to try for a bit of charming conversation with our guest.”

“Why is she even here? Our Jason is far too young to be wed. Poor James, nearly as young as Jason, having to shackle himself to that little baggage, Corrie Tybourne-Barrett and-”

Douglas walked to his mother’s chair, leaned down, and lifted her out of the chair, his hands in her armpits. He straightened, and she dangled by a couple of inches off the beautiful Aubusson carpet upon which she’d dumped countless cups of tea because it was a rug that Alex had bought and placed in the room. She was very heavy, his mother, probably nearly as heavy as he was. He looked her straight in her eyes, even managed to smile. “You will not say another derogatory word about Corrie. You will not say another derogatory word to my wife. Indeed, you will not say another derogatory word about anyone. Do you understand me, Mother?”

The dowager shrieked, threw her head back and shrieked to the ceiling. Douglas, instead of letting her down, merely carried her to the drawing room door, kicked it open, and carried his mother away, still shrieking, but now she was adding some quite unrestrained curses. They heard him say calmly, “That is rather vulgar, Mother.”

The dowager shrieked again, louder.

Alexandra stared after her husband, her look bemused. She said at last, “Well, it’s about time, don’t you think, Jason?”

“Yes, Mother, you did very well and so did Father. Judith, you don’t realize it, but something very unexpected just happened. My grandmother isn’t a very nice old lady-well, truth be told, she’s a harridan. My mother has always let her walk on her back, always been kind even when that old witch tortures her mercilessly, but no longer. And Father actually carried her out of here. Oh, I can’t wait for James to hear this. Well done, Mother, well done.”

“I wonder if she will be kind to Corrie,” Alexandra said. “I also wonder what threats your father is making at this moment.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not being kind to Corrie,” Judith said, still staring at the open drawing room door, where muffled shrieks still sounded.

Jason laughed. “She even manages to insult Hollis. I do wonder how long it will take grandmother to realize she’s no longer in charge here.”

“I trust your father. Her reign is over.” Alexandra stood, her arms crossed over her chest, her chin up, her eyes hard. “It was over such a little thing,” she said, shaking her head. “Never again will that old woman make my stomach ache.” She turned to Judith. “Well, such a spectacle for a guest. I am so sorry, not about what I did, not about what my husband did, I’m sorry at the timing of it. Nearly thirty years-all this time I’ve swallowed my bile and tried to keep the peace.” She began rubbing her hands together. “I ca

Alexandra didn’t wait for any advice, just sailed out of the drawing room, head high and shoulders squared.

Jason said, “James told me that he and Corrie were going to live at Primrose Hall, a charming house that the first Lord Hammersmith built. He was probably thinking of the insults Corrie would have to endure were they to live here. Now? I wonder. Shall I show you some interesting statues in the east garden, Judith? They’re rather unusual. I think you might like them.”

CORRIE TURNED ON her side, kissed her husband’s mouth, and said, “James, please wake up, please.”

James was instantly awake. “What is this? You want me in the middle of the night? What’s wrong, Corrie? You’re shaking.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight she had trouble breathing. “Did you have a nightmare? It’s over now, all over.”

She pulled back from him. “No, it wasn’t a nightmare, James. I was awake, she woke me up. It’s you, James, not your father. Oh goodness, it’s you. It was the Virgin Bride, I know it was. She visited me because I’m now a part of the family.”

James stared down at her. He believed in the Virgin Bride, but he would never admit to his father that he did. He didn’t want to see his father’s look of amused contempt directed at him. He’d heard stories about how she’d appeared to his father, but still, the earl wouldn’t speak of the ghost without copious sneers and mockery.