A Sibling's Interference

Chapter Seven

As I ventured out of my bedroom, the hallway was still and silent. The doors to the other bedrooms on that floor were closed. I went down the stairs to the first floor.

Candles were lit in the sitting room in readiness for our guests, but no one was there. Not wanting to wait idly for my sister, I decided to descend to the ground floor instead.

In the dining room, the maid was putting the finishing touches on the table. "How are you this evening, Molly?" I asked, glancing over everything. It looked well enough in my opinion.

"I'm fine, sir," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Mrs. Wallace isn't making you serve tonight, is she?" I asked with sudden alarm. It had completely slipped my mind to speak to the housekeeper about Molly's shyness.

The girl shook her head. "No, sir," she told me. "Mrs. Wallace wants me in the kitchen with her. Mr. Davison will do the carrying in and stay in the dining room to pour the wine."

I tried not to breathe a sigh of relief but even she looked pleased with this new arrangement. Perhaps there was no reason to dismiss her if we could just work around her shyness. After all, the second maid, Lizzie, would be old enough to answer the door and the like.

There was a knock at the door. Since I was only a few feet away, I headed to open it myself. Davison had enough on his hands without having to worry about admitting guests.

Talbot and Walton were on the other side, and both looked surprised when I greeted them. "Good evening, gentlemen," I greeted. "Please come in. I assume you've been introduced?"

"We met in the lane," Talbot responded, removing his hat. "I hope all is well here? Miss Bywood is well?"

It was evident that his main concern was my sister, despite her anger towards him.

"Oh, yes," I assured him. Feeling rather foolish, I collected their hats and jackets from them. Then, not knowing what I was supposed to do with them, I put them on the side table against the wall. Hopefully, Molly or Davison would put them away correctly.

"We will be an odd number tonight, but since this is just an informal meal among friends, I hope no one minds," I said over my shoulder as I led the two men up the stairs. "It distressed my sister when she learned of it."

"Miss Bywood is an excellent hostess," Talbot remarked in a low voice.

I glanced back at him, but his expression remained unreadable. "Our mother certainly taught her well," I agreed, though perhaps I should have just pretended I didn't hear him. "All of my sisters are known for their hospitality."

Just like our mother. How many times had Mama gone out of her way to make sure her guests were happy and had everything they needed? An invitation to her dinner parties was a privilege for all who received it.

When would she be able to have another party?

"Is something wrong, Mr. Bywood?" Mr. Walton asked, his tone hesitant. We had reached the drawing room.

Pushing aside my anxious thoughts, I redirected my attention to the present. "I was just reminded of my mother," I informed him. "She had a riding accident earlier this year and I hope she will be able to be hostess for her own dinner parties again soon."

He nodded in understanding. "I was led to believe that Mrs. Bywood was likely to be bound to her bed from the accident," Talbot commented as he walked around the room. "She was ill for some time. It is remarkable that she has been so active these past few weeks in spite of her condition."

How dare he say such a thing? Remarkable? Bound to her bed? I bristled with anger, struggling to keep my composure. "Mrs. George Bywood may have wanted people to believe that," I said, "but my sister-in-law was mistaken about my mother's condition. While she may not be able to ride again, my mother will reign over her household soon enough."