I decided to take the stance of an observer, for the most part, and spoke only when asked a direct question. Christine had obviously been holding court with the men around her for most of her life, and it was akin to watching a play, seeing her flutter those lashes and wave her small fan in front of her face from time to time. She virtually ignored me, which was fine as far as I was concerned. She only had eyes for Henley, and now and again for Mr Beauford, who looked delighted to have awakened and found these two young women were his house guests. I wondered if he’d want to rush me out of the way now that he had more company. I told myself it really didn’t matter, since that’s what had to happen anyway. Now and again, Henley looked in my direction and shrugged just enough for me to notice, as if to say, What can I do? I didn’t see this coming. In order to escape Christine’s nearly non-stop chatter, he made it a point to include Eliza in the conversation, and as she was seated beside him, this was easily accomplished.
What do You think about The Seventh Miss Hatfield?
