snorted, then asked eagerly, “Is she pretty—Mrs. Dyer?”
“Extremely. Have you never met her?”
“No, though I expect to when I am in London in the spring. She was in mourning last year when I was there; and though I may have seen her the year before, I did not know who she was.”
Julianna seemed to think better of her curiosity and changed the subject. “I understand your brother has built a theatre at Stolenhurst which is acknowledged to be the finest anywhere. Have you taken part in his productions?”
“When there was a need for me, and I have often coached the players in their speeches. Have you an interest in the theatre?” Olivia regarded her companion with some trepidation, for her experience with people bitten with the desire to act was not wholly felicitous.
Julianna considered the question for a moment. Her brown hair differed from her brother’s by only a degree of lightness, but her eyes were hazel where his were brown. She was as surprisingly tall as her mother, though neither of them had attained Noah’s lanky height. Julianna’s eyebrows moved expressively when she spoke. “I have never acted, you know, but sometimes when I read a play I feel very involved in it. Do you not feel very dramatic when you read some moving speech of Shakespeare’s?”
Olivia laughed. “Yes, but that is not the order of play Peter presents. His standard selection is The Confederacy or The Romp. A few months past I was Mrs. Sullen in The Beaus’ Stratagem, and I found it very unnerving.”
They had not noticed the door of the parlor open to admit Noah, who startled them now by announcing, “But she acted it extremely well, nonetheless.” His eyes danced with amusement and Olivia knew he was remembering that Peter had brought him to her bedchamber to congratulate her on her performance. When she flushed and clenched her hands in her lap, he said apologetically, “I know you do not enjoy such works, Olivia, and I will not tease you about it. Has Julianna managed to wrest from you all your secrets?”
His sister indignantly declared that Olivia had been more than willing to explain why she had arrived so unexpectedly at Welling Towers, an admission which only made Noah laugh and shake his head mournfully. “My mother hopes you’ll join her in the Winter Parlor, Olivia. I’ll take you there if you wish.”
Olivia had a moment of misgiving, but automatically rose, since she really had no choice. Noah imperceptibly shook his head at his sister’s questioning look, and she settled back in her chair, resigned. When they were in the hall Noah regarded Olivia curiously and asked, “Are you really afraid of my mother?”
“She reminds me of my grandmother with those piercing eyes and pursed lips. I feel she thoroughly disapproves of me, though I don’t believe I have given her any reason. When Grandmama was alive I used to think that she could tell when I had gotten into mischief just by looking at me. Your mother is like that, too.”
Noah nodded but replied, “It’s a trick some people have, Olivia. If they make you feel guilty by appearing to know more than they do, you usually confess to it without their having to lift a finger. I admit it was disconcerting when I was young, and I was forever apologizing for some misdeed before ever Mother could have heard of it. You will find such people hold little power over you when you develop a confidence of your own.”
He could see that he had offended her by his reference to her youth and quickly continued, “I think you will like Mother when you get to know her. She is opinionated,” he remarked dryly, “but seldom unfair. In this case I have received the brunt of her censure, as was only proper, and she understands that you were not at fault.” He paused before the heavy oak door of the Winter Parlor. “Do not let her bully you, Olivia.”
“You are not coming in with me?” she asked anxiously.
“No, she would only dismiss me, my dear. She wants
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