indeed? How interesting.”
“If not for our farmers, where would we be?” the duke said. “Not enjoying this fine meal, that is certain.”
Lady Agnes looked at him as if he had challenged her. “That is true, Hollinburgh. However, her father must have wanted better for his children if she was apprenticed to a milliner.”
Rosamund glanced quickly at Minerva, who was still chatting but who sent a sidelong glance that warned, don’t correct her. Not that Rosamund intended to. No one at this table had a right to quiz her about her life. If she allowed that, who knew where it might lead? Possibly back to Mrs. Darling’s brothel. Her time there would take some explaining, not that any explanation would save her from scorn.
“Do you have any family here in London?” Aunt Agnes asked.
“I don’t. I have a younger sister. She is in school. Mrs. Parker’s.”
“I have heard of it. Was that where you were educated?”
“I was not that fortunate.”
Aunt Agnes waited for the rest. Smiling. Watching. Rosamund just looked back at her.
“Most girls are not sent away, Aunt Agnes,” Kevin said. “You weren’t.”
“With an army of tutors there was no need. Yet Dolores and I were well educated in our father’s home.”
“That is the schoolroom most girls know, isn’t it? Instead of the past, let us speak of the present. Miss Jameson’s millinery is much sought after,” he said, changing the subject. “I would call it artistic.”
“What would you know about that?” Philip said. “Do you now claim expertise in that as well as engines and moths?” He leaned forward so he could catch Rosamund’s eye. “Have him show them to you someday. Moths. Not even butterflies.”
“You are right, Philip. I would never dare to claim my taste in bonnets is informed. However, Minerva has seen Miss Jameson’s creations. What did you think, Minerva?”
“They are superior. I think any woman at this table would be glad to be seen in one.”
“Indeed,” Lady Agnes said incredulously.
“Indeed,” Minerva said evenly.
“The bonnet she was wearing in the park was hers, Aunt. It was nice enough,” Felicity said in a condescending tone.
Across the table, Lady Dolores had been drinking some wine. Now she set down her glass with some force. “Oh, tosh. Bonnets and moths and farmers. Let us speak of what is on everyone’s mind.” She speared Rosamund with a sharp, dark stare. “What do you intend to do with our legacy? It really belongs to all of us, I’m sure you realize.”
That ended all other conversation.
“Aunt Dolores,” the duke admonished.
“Don’t ‘Aunt Dolores’ me. She must know it was a mistake. A passing impulse. If my brother had not met an untimely demise, he would have fixed it soon enough.”
“You don’t know that,” Chase said. “Nor does it signify, because that was the will when he passed. It has been a year now. You really must accept that.”
“I won’t. It is too unfair. Perverse. He had family to take care of. Instead this—this farmer’s daughter hat maker inherits an obscene amount of money for someone of her station.”
“That is enough,” the duke said.
“Yes, quite enough,” Walter echoed. “This is not the time or place.”
“It isn’t enough and there is no better time and place,” Dolores said. “If she had any decency at all she would turn it back to the estate, or at least most of it. She has to know he never really intended her to have it all. If someone hadn’t killed him—”
“Nicholas and Walter said enough and now I say it too. Must we all say it? You have forgotten yourself.” Kevin spoke sharply, and loud enough to silence Dolores. “Aunt Agnes—”
“Yes,” Lady Agnes said. “Dolores, you are not feeling well. I’m sure you would like some time alone.”
“Oh, tosh. I didn’t say anything the rest of you weren’t thinking.” Dolores stood and, with one last glare at Rosamund, strode from the dining room.
For a five count, everyone just looked at their plates. Then Kevin asked the duke about some horse he had seen race, and Minerva asked Douglas’s wife about some party she had attended, and conversation resumed.
“My apologies,” the duke murmured beside her.
“Not at all. I had no idea that the ton had such interesting dinners.”
In truth, Rosamund was relieved to have the talk move around her instead of right at her. It had been an astonishing five minutes. She hoped she never saw the likes of it again. However, if one of them was that angry, maybe all of them were. Even Kevin.
She couldn’t blame Dolores for