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Prompted by a guilty conscience, he bade her enter and join him by the hearth, even though he would have much preferred to be left alone with his troubling thoughts.
‘I’ve been poor company today, neglecting you so. Can I tempt you to join me in a night-cap…? A glass of wine, perhaps?’
‘No, I thank you, Brother,’ she answered, though readily accepting his invitation to seat herself opposite. ‘I merely wished to ask if there’s anyone else you wish to invite to the party? I’ve already sent out most all the invitations, and have received quite a number of replies already. But I was just wondering if there was perhaps someone else you might have forgotten?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I did glance through your list, remember?’ He checked for a moment before raising his glass once again to his lips. ‘You haven’t forgotten to send Beth and her companion a formal invitation, I trust?’
‘No, and I feel quite annoyed with myself. As it happens, I could have taken it over with me the other day when I paid a visit. But it quite slipped my mind. I must remember to send it tomorrow.’
‘You didn’t mention you’d paid a visit to the Grange, Connie,’ he remarked casually, and saw at a glance that for some reason she didn’t seem able to meet his gaze.
‘Didn’t I?’ she returned, plucking at the folds of her skirt. ‘Must have slipped my mind. You know what a scatterbrain I can be on occasions.’
He knew nothing of the sort. Although his sister could never have been described as a bluestocking, she was neither downright hen-witted nor forgetful. All the same he decided not to pursue the topic as it was evidently causing her some embarrassment, and asked, instead, if she considered Beth had altered very much over the years.
‘Why, yes! I do, as it happens,’ she answered. ‘In looks she’s much improved, a most attractive young woman, I should say, if a trifle on the slender side.’ All at once she looked primly disapproving. ‘I do think she’s grown quite hard, though, Philip. Quite unbecomingly so, in my opinion! I asked her to do me the tiniest little favour, and she virtually snapped my nose off.’
Intrigued though he was, he had to delve deep into his reserves of self-control to stop himself laughing at his sister’s rare show of pique. ‘Don’t worry, Connie, I shall take her roundly to task the very next time I see her for daring to ruffle your feathers so.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Philip, please don’t do that!’ she implored, having clearly taken her brother’s mock-threat quite seriously. ‘I could see on the night of the dinner party, when you returned after your stroll in the garden, how well you two still get on. You appeared so blissfully content in each other’s company after your walk round the garden. I should hate to be the one to cause a rift between you. Besides, which,’ she added, little realising that an arresting look had flickered briefly in her brother’s eyes at mention of that particular interlude with Bethany, ‘she had every right to refuse to invite her aunt and cousin to stay with her.’
After forcing his mind back to the present in order to digest everything his sister was revealing, Philip suddenly experienced the gravest misgivings. ‘Pray enlighten me, Sister, as to why you should have wished Beth to invite her aunt and cousin to stay?’
No explanation was forthcoming. Furthermore, Constance seemed unwilling to meet his gaze once again, which only succeeded in arousing his suspicions even further. ‘You would not, by any chance, be so foolish as to attempt to indulge in a spot of matchmaking where the youngest Miss Barfield is concerned?’
‘Oh, but, Philip, you cannot pretend you don’t like her. You paid her such attention during the Season,’ she reminded him, meeting his gaze, if only briefly. ‘She’s such a sweet child, and so like Eugenie.’
Only by exerting a deal of control did Philip stop himself from indulging in a rare show of ill humour. But even so his sister was left in no doubt that he would brook any interference in his personal concerns.
‘Even if Phoebe Barfield was the very image of her dead sister, which she most certainly is not, I would still never consider making an offer for her hand. And I sincerely trust, Constance, that you have never given the child, or her mother, for that matter, any reason to suppose that I might.’
The softness of his tone was a threat in itself, and resulted in only emphasising his evident displeasure. ‘Of course I wouldn’t dream of offering any encouragement to Lady Henrietta,’ his sister responded, at last raising her eyes to meet his. ‘It was just that I hoped… Oh, dear,’ she continued, her voice betraying a slight tremor now. ‘Bethany said you wouldn’t appreciate any interference in your personal concerns.’
This succeeded in diverting his thoughts. ‘Said that, did she…?’ He was impressed. ‘Evidently she’s grown into a perceptive little minx.’
‘Maybe,’ Lady Chalford grudgingly acknowledged. ‘But that wasn’t why she refused. Said she wouldn’t be made a convenience of again. Though what in the world she meant by such a thing is anybody’s guess.’
‘How very interesting,’ Philip murmured, studying the remaining contents of his glass with narrowed, assessing eyes. ‘Yes, most interesting.’
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