Letters to a Lady Read Online Free Page A

announced in lofty accents that his lordship was not at home.
    Peabody cast a stymied frown at Diana, who edged forward and said in a loud, clear voice, “We shall wait for him,” and barged in.
    “His lordship has left for the evening,” Stoker informed her.
    “I shall fall in a heap if I have to walk another step this night,” Peabody moaned, and sank on to a chair in the hallway. While the butler looked on doubtfully, Diana took charge.
    “Please prepare a chamber for Miss Peabody and myself,” she said. “We shall spend the night here.”
    “But his lordship—” the butler began, and stopped uncertainly. His lordship had strong views on country cousins battening themselves on him uninvited. On the other hand, there was a certain fiery disdain in the young lady’s eyes that Stoker knew did not glow in the eyes of commoners.
    “Pray hurry,” Diana said coolly. “Lord Harrup will not be happy to hear his cousin was kept cooling her heels when she came here at his express request.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” This eased Stoker’s mind, and he called for the housekeeper.
    Mrs. Dunaway was only five feet tall, but she made up in bulk what she lacked in height. Plump and florid, she ruled the house with an iron fist. As the ladies were being shown upstairs by Mrs. Dunaway, Diana took a peek around her.
    The London house was, of course, smaller than Harrup Hall, but in elegance it was equally overpowering. Her eyes scanned the broad expanse of marble hallway leading to a gold saloon. Beyond a wide arch, lamps shone on polished mahogany surfaces and glowed dully on satin-covered sofas. The downstairs maid was just whisking the draperies closed.
    Mrs. Dunaway, a cousin of Miss Peabody and a friend, chatted amiably as they ascended. Less charitable persons than Peabody said that Harrup demanded services of all his pensioners.
    “His lordship will want you to have one of our good guest rooms, Hattie,” Mrs. Dunaway said as she led Peabody down a carpeted hallway to a door eight feet high. When the tapers had been lit, the room was seen to be fit for a queen. Green velvet hangings at windows and on the canopied bed lent an air of being in a forest. The theme was picked up in the hand-blocked wall covering, where branches and leaves were intertwined against a cream background.
    “Oh, my! I hardly think—” Peabody said, and glanced doubtfully at Diana. “But perhaps with Miss Beecham along to share the room with me—Harrup could not put her up in the servants’ quarters.”
    “There’s not another guest in the house at the moment,” Mrs. Dunaway said. “We shall put Miss Beecham in the adjoining room. The beds are made up fresh, for we just this day got his maiden aunts from Bath bounced off. What a troublesome pair of barnacles they were. Methodists,” she explained. “Now, will you ladies have a bite of dinner downstairs or shall I have it brought up here to you?”
    “We would not want to inconvenience the servants. A cup of tea in our rooms will be fine,” Peabody said modestly.
    Diana remembered the countless times her papa’s servants had been sent bustling when Harrup accepted a last-minute invitation to dinner. She was ready for more than a cup of tea. “When is Lord Harrup expected back?” she asked.
    “He’s dining with the lord chancellor, so should be home by ten. The Eldons, you know. Very dull little parties Old Bags gives. I know his lordship turned down all his invitations to routs later this evening. He is very busy in Parliament at the moment.”
    Diana considered this and took her decision. “You have your tea and go to bed, Peabody. I shall have a bite downstairs and wait for Harrup. I’ll tell him what happened.”
    Peabody’s face eased in relief at avoiding her unpleasant duty, and Mrs. Dunaway’s eyes lit up like a pair of lamps at this tantalizing hint of trouble. As soon as she had Miss Beecham settled in the morning parlor with her cold mutton and bread, Mrs. Dunaway