Page 56 of Barbarous

Hugh winked at Anne and turned to his aunt, who was glaring up at him with eyes as cold and hard as gunmetal.

“Aunt Letitia, how delightful to see you again.” He moved as if to embrace her, but she planted the foot of her cane against his chest.

“Not so hasty, young man. Stand back and turn around, so that I might see you.”

His green eye danced as he held out his arms and turned for her, clearly pleased to display his magnificent person.

“That’s enough,” she snapped when it was clear the order hadn’t reduced him to mortification. She dropped her glass but not her glare. “Hugh.” The old lady made his name sound like an execration. “You may kiss me.” She finally offered up her powdered cheek.

He did, but he also folded her into a gentle embrace. “How good it is to see you, Aunt.”

Even thick powder could not hide the rosy tint that spread over her high cheekbones. “Hmmph! You’re looking well enough for your age, I suppose.”

Hugh grinned. “I would ask after your health, Auntie, but I can see you are blooming and have not changed even a whit in almost two decades.”

She shot him a withering look. “I see time has not dimmed your frivolous nature.” Her lips, already thin, became even thinner. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your dramatic reappearance, boy. I can assure you that I have not.”

“I apologize for my lack of sensitivity, Aunt.” He dropped his chin but Daphne saw his lips curve.

So did Lady Letitia, and her color flared. “You are a rude, selfish boy who has always taken pleasure in making mischief at the expense of others!”

“I cannot argue with you, Aunt.”

His docility only angered her more. “I suppose it would have been too much to ask that you notify the family before you made your public entrance?”

“Again, I cannot argue with you, nor do I wish to. I can only tender my deepest apologies.”

Lady Letitia’s steely eyes narrowed and she made a rude noise. “Must you tower over me like a great lurch? I shall get a crick in my neck staring up at you.”

Hugh dropped to one knee and took her hand. “I hope you shall give me an opportunity to make up for my shamefully de trop reappearance, Aunt.”

Lady Letitia snatched away her hand. “Fool!” She jabbed her cane at the nearest chair. “Sit!”

Still grinning, Hugh sat and the tension dissipated.

“Well,” Anne whispered, lowering herself onto the settee beside Daphne. “I am glad that is over. She has been furious for weeks.”

They watched for a moment as Hugh and his aunt spoke.

“So,” Anne said, turning back to Daphne. “What are your plans now that you are out of mourning?”

Daphne tried to keep one ear on Hugh’s conversation with his aunt while answering Anne’s many questions, but Hugh and Lady Letitia—normally loud—had chosen to speak in almost inaudible tones. Which made her even more curious.

Daphne and Anne were just making plans to go riding that day when Hugh stood and gave them a rueful smile.

“I hate to dash off, ladies, but I’m afraid I have a prior engagement.”

Prior engagement? What prior engagement? He had only just arrived in the middle of the night.

He kissed his aunt’s cheek, embraced Anne, and took Daphne’s hand. “Please do not set a cover for me this evening. I’m afraid I shall not return until quite late.”

Daphne tugged away her hand, disappointment mingling with pain. “I shall notify Cook.”

“Hmph,” Lady Letitia snorted.

Hugh chuckled at his aunt’s nonverbal comment and gave Daphne a conspiring wink.

Lady Letitia waited until the door shut behind him before shaking her head. “That man! What a hornet’s nest he has cracked open with his dramatic return.” Her words said one thing but the glint in her eyes said she wasn’t entirely disappointed. “I’ve informed my inconsiderate oaf of a nephew you are both in good time to attend the ball I am giving for that idiot John’s unfortunate daughter.” Her expression became grim. “She’s got more hair than wit, and I’m grateful her father died before he could get his hands on her meager dowry.” Lady Letitia gave a dismissive tsk at Daphne’s horrified expression. “Oh, don’t give me that prudish look, missy! Thomas must have said that much and more when he faced the dreadful prospect of John as his heir.”