Page 105 of The Art of Sinning
Yvette released a pent-up breath. That explained their reactions. If even Jeremy’s London relations were unaware he was a widower, then his family would be justified in thinking he’d told no one else.
“Who’s Hannah?” Edwin hissed beside her.
Yvette groaned. She’d forgotten to tell her brother, and apparently it hadn’t come up in his discussion with Jeremy yesterday. “I’ll explain later,” she whispered as his mother came toward her.
The tiny creature fixed her with a steely gaze reminiscent of her son’s. “So you’re going to marry my rascal son, are you? Do you know what you’re getting into, my lady?”
“I think so, yes,” she said warily. “My other brother is a rascal, so I’ve had some experience in dealing with the breed. Indeed, I would venture to say that half the men in thetonare rascals, yet I manage to annoy them more than they annoy me.”
Mrs. Keane blinked, then burst into laughter. “I see. Then it appears my son has found a woman who can keep up with him for once.” She held out her hands. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Relief coursed through Yvette as she took the woman’s hands and squeezed them. “Thank you, Mrs. Keane. I hope we can be friends.”
“I have no doubt of that. I can use an ally in my fight to tame my son.”
“God, Mother, I’m not that bad,” he grumbled.
“You’re worse, usually.” Drawing Yvette from Jeremy’s side with surprising strength for one so small, Mrs. Keane tucked Yvette’s hand in the crook of her arm. “Now, come inside and let’s have some refreshments while you and Jeremy tell me all about how you came to be engaged.”
Oh, dear. That would be quite an interesting conversation. So much to say. So much to leave out.
But before they could go more than two steps up, Jeremy stalked ahead to block their path. “Yvette hasn’t had a moment to herself since yesterday, Mother, so we’re carrying her to the earl’s town house to rest while he and I and Bonnaud head off to attend to a business matter. But we’ll all join you for dinner. Assuming that Bonnaud doesn’t mind having two more guests thrust upon him.”
“Zoe is always delighted to show off her hostess skills, I assure you,” Mr. Bonnaud said with a smile.
“Actually,” Yvette put in, “I don’t mind just staying here while the three of you go take care of matters.” She patted Mrs. Keane’s arm. “I’d like to become better acquainted with my future relations.”
The look of alarm that crossed Jeremy’s face gave her pause, but it vanished quickly, making her wonder if she’d imagined it.
“Of course,” he said coolly. “I merely thought you might like to nap since you were run ragged yesterday.”
“I can nap later.” With a smile, Yvette teased, “Your mother and sister and I have to plot a wedding. That will require all three of us.”
“And several shopping trips to Bond Street, though we won’t tackle those today.” His mother made a shooing motion. “So go handle your business affairs. But don’t be too long, unless you want to have no voice in the plans. If you keep avoiding your family, you may find yourself with a wedding full of all the sentimental nonsense you’ve mocked for years.”
“Horrors,” Edwin mumbled. “Come, gentlemen, we’d better go. Knowing my sister, she’ll be plotting an extravagant affair in St. Paul’s Cathedral, which will cost me a pretty penny. The sooner we head that off, the better.”
Jeremy hesitated, but he clearly knew when he was outnumbered. Muttering something that sounded remarkably like “Shit and damn,” he marched down the steps and got into the carriage with Edwin and Mr. Bonnaud.
Yvette certainly hoped his mother’s ears weren’t as good as hers.
“I don’t know about you,” Mrs. Keane said, gesturing up the steps, “but I’m ready for a cup of tea. And Zoe is dying to question you about my son’s behavior when he’s a guest at others’ houses. Besides, she’ll want to be part of the wedding plans. Judging from what I’ve seen so far, she’ll know exactly how to host a breakfast that isn’t as insipid and dull as most English affairs.”
Yvette bit back a smile. She was beginning to see where Jeremy got his opinionated nature.
The next three hours flew by, with Lady Zoe and Mrs. Keane arguing amiably about when Jeremy and Yvette should wed, where they should wed, how Yvette should dress, and how many dishes should be served at the breakfast. Yvette tried to interject her opinions, but with two women as strong-minded as Lady Zoe and Mrs. Keane, it was pointless. Besides, she enjoyed watching the skirmishes.
The only thing that bothered her was how quiet Miss Keane was. The woman hadn’t appeared to be shy yesterday. What was making her reticent, even aloof, today?
When after a while Miss Keane said she needed to finish some unpacking and excused herself, Yvette told the other two ladies she needed to visit the necessary and hastened out after the woman.
She caught up to her near the staircase, relieved to see that no one was around. “Miss Keane, may I have a moment?”
With a nervous glance back at the drawing room they’d just left, Miss Keane said, rather sharply, “What is it, my lady?”
“Please, there’s no need to stand on ceremony with me. Call me Yvette. We’re soon to be sisters, after all.”
The words seemed to hit Miss Keane like a blow, for her face crumpled and her eyes filled with pain.
