Page 38 of The Heiress's Daughter
Milly frowned. “Koo zeen?” she repeated. Clearly Milly had never learned French.
Zoë lifted her chin. “Oui.I am Zoë Benoît, MissStudley’scousine—a distant cousin, visiting from France.” The second time, she used the English pronunciation ofcousin.
Milly narrowed her eyes. “A cousin from France? But you look exactly like Izzy. In fact I thought you were Izzy until you turned around.”
Zoë gave a very Gallic shrug. “Can I help what you think?” She looked Milly up and down. “And who might you be to accost us in this fashion? It is hardly polite. But then inFrancewe understand good manners.”
Milly flushed but her eyes sparked with animosity.
Clarissa hid a smile. So much for her shy little sister. It was a masterly set-down. “Zoë, this is Miss Millicent Harrington, who lives in the house over there with her mother.” She indicated Milly’s house.
Milly inclined her head graciously, saying, “My mother is second cousin to a duke.”
Zoë sniffed, unimpressed. “In France they chop the heads off dukes.”
Clarissa smothered a chuckle.
Milly bridled. “Who cares what they do in foreign countries? Everyone knows the French are barbaric.” She eyed Zoë thoughtfully. “Besides, I don’t believe you’re French at all. You’re as English as I am, only your accent is straight out of the gutter—an English gutter. I think you’re another one like Izzy—one of Sir Bartleby Studley’s bast—”
Before Clarissa could interrupt, Zoë let forth with a blast of rapid French. She spoke so swiftly and so heatedly that Clarissa couldn’t follow most of it—her own education wasn’t impressive, but she did have a smattering of French. She caught some words:incivile, uncivil;impolie, rude;arrogante;une vache, which she was sure meant a cow;je m’en fiche, which she had no idea of but it was delivered with an emphatic gesture that seemed rather rude; andsalope—which she was fairly sure was another very rude word.
Milly tossed her dark ringlets and gave Zoë a supercilious look. “I suppose you think you’re very clever, gabblingaway like that. It might sound a bit like French, I suppose, but—”
A voice and the sound of clapping interrupted. “Oh, brava, brava,ma petite.”A young woman approached, beaming, still clapping. “C’est magnifique, but really, such an excellent tirade is wasted on one such as this.” She turned to Milly. “And you, Miss whoever-you-are, I heard some of what you said, and I can assure you, this young lady is indeed speaking French and the very best kind of French at that.” She glanced at Zoë and winked. “Although some of the words she used were, let us say, less than genteel. Her accent, however, is perfectly aristocratic.”
Lady Tarrant came up behind her. “Oh, Clarissa, there you are. And this must be Zoë, your young sis—”
“Cousine,” Zoë said quickly.
“Yes, my cousin from France,” Clarissa affirmed. She felt a little sad that Zoë was so quick to reject their sisterhood, but she could see it was a clever strategy, especially as Milly had jumped so quickly to the correct conclusion. Zoë had clearly done some thinking about her situation. And her French did sound impressively authentic.
“Of course. How do you do, Zoë? Good morning, Milly,” Lady Tarrant said. “Let me introduce my goddaughter, Lucy, Lady Thornton, currently visiting from Vienna with her husband, my nephew, Gerald. He is in the diplomatic service.”
Milly muttered a greeting. She glared at Zoë and seemed inclined to continue the argument, but Lady Tarrant said in a firm voice, “Milly, I think you’ve said quite enough.”
Milly turned to leave, then turned back. “I don’t suppose you know who has purchased the house near the corner?” She pointed.
“No, no idea.” Clarissa said. For a week now they’d heard the sounds of workmen banging and hammering and tramping to and fro. “It’s not really our business, is it?”
“I gather the new owner is refurbishing it from top to bottom in the most elegant style,” Lady Tarrant said.
“Well, we can see that for ourselves, can’t we—but whoisthe owner?” Milly said caustically. “Mama has been trying to find out—she says it’s very important that we maintain the exclusive nature of the residents here, and it would be dreadful if the new owner was some vulgar cit or tradesman. But when she spoke to the head workman about it, he was not only common and vulgar but very rude.”
Clarissa hid a smile, imagining a workman getting the better of the imposing Mrs. Harrington. “I don’t think it matters and anyway, we can’t do anything about it, can we? The house is sold.”
Milly sniffed. “Mama says we should all band together and let him know his kind is unwelcome here. This is a very select address.”
Nobody said anything for a moment, then Lady Tarrant said, “It’s time we went in.”
“Yes,” Clarissa agreed hurriedly. “Isn’t that your mama calling, Milly?”
“I don’t hear anything,” Milly said sulkily.
“You’d better go, in case,” Lady Tarrant said. “I would hate your mother to worry.”
Milly gave them all a goaded look, sniffed again and flounced away.
As she left, Zoë muttered something in French. Lady Thornton gave a delighted laugh and said, “Indeed, but let us now speak English.”
