A Comfortable Wife Read Online Free Page B

of their host’s sallies. Tilting her chin, she caught Philip’s eye. “I’m sure Geoffrey will find the academic pursuits all absorbing.”
    Whether Philip would have capped her comment she was destined never to know; the door opened again, this time admitting Henrietta, closely followed by Hugo.
    As she turned to her aunt, Antonia surprised a fleeting look of chagrin on Philip’s face. It was there and then gone so rapidly she was not, in truth, entirely certain she had interpreted his expression correctly. Before she could ponder the point, Fenton entered to make his announcement.
    “My honour, I believe?”
    Antonia turned to find Philip’s arm before her. Glancing across, she saw Henrietta being supported by Mr Satterly, the pair already deep in conversation. With a regally acquiescent glance, Antonia placed her hand on Philip’s sleeve. “If you will, my lord.”
    Philip sighed. “Ah, what it is to be master in one’s own house.”
    Antonia’s lips twitched but she made no reply. Together, they led the way to the dining-room. They were five, leaving Philip at the head of the table and Henrietta at the foot with Hugo Satterly on one side and Geoffrey on the other. With a subtle smile, Philip delivered Antonia to the chair next to Geoffrey, the one closest to his own.
    The conversation was at first general, with Hugo relating a succession of on dits. Having heard them all before, Philip bided his time until Henrietta, eager for gossip, predictably buttonholed Hugo, demanding further details. Equally eager to learn of the world he had yet to join, Geoffrey drank in Hugo’s entertaining replies.
    With a faint smile, Philip shifted in his chair, bringing Antonia directly under his gaze. “I understand, from what Henrietta let fall, that you’ve lived the last eight years very quietly.”
    Antonia met his gaze directly, her expression serious and, he thought, a touch sombre. She shrugged lightly. “Mama was unwell. There was little time for frivolities. Naturally, once I was of an age, the ladies about invited me to join their parties.” She looked away as Fenton removed her soup plate. “To the Assemblies at Harrogate.”
    “Harrogate.” Philip kept his expression impassive. She might as well have been buried alive. He waited until Fenton laid the next course before venturing, “But your mother must have entertained to some degree?”
    Sampling a morsel of turbot cloaked in rich sweetbread sauce, Antonia shook her head. “Not after Papa’s death. We received, of course, but more often than not, when the ladies arrived, Mama was too ill to come down.”
    “I see.”
    The quiet comment drew a quick glance from Antonia.“You must not imagine I’ve been pining away, dreaming of a gay life.” Reaching for a dish of morels, she offered them to Philip. “I had more than enough to occupy myself, what with running the household and the estate. Mama was never well enough to tend to such matters. And there was Geoffrey, of course. Mama was always in a fret that he was sickly, which, of course, he never was. But she was sure he had inherited her constitution. Nothing would convince her otherwise.”
    Philip looked past Antonia; Geoffrey was wholly immersed in the conversation at the other end of the table. “Speaking of Geoffrey, how did you manage to find tutors to keep up with him? He must have been quite a handful.”
    Instantly, he realised he’d discovered the key to Antonia’s confidence. Her eyes fairly glowed. “He certainly was. Why, by the time he was nine, he had outstripped the curate.”
    There followed an animated catalogue of Geoffrey’s successes, liberally sprinkled with tales of misdeeds, catastrophes and simple country pleasures. In between the highlights of Geoffrey’s life, Philip heard enough to gauge what manner of existence had been Antonia’s lot. What encouragement was needed to keep her revelations flowing, he artfully supplied. As her history unfolded, he realised the unnamed