Well, now, if we'd known we were going to have such…ah…gra…that is, illustrious company, we'd have-"
"Swept off the chairs?" Lucinda suggested acidly. "Shoveled off the floor?"
"Lucinda!" Elizabeth whispered desperately. "They didn't know we were coming."
"No respectable person would dwell in such a place even for a night," she snapped, and Elizabeth watched in mingled distress and admiration as the redoubtable woman turned around and directed her attack on their unwilling host. "The responsibility for our being here is yours, whether it was a mistake or not! I shall expect you to rout your servants from their hiding places and have them bring clean linens up to us at once. I shall also expect them to have this squalor remedied by morning! It is obvious from your behavior that you are no gentleman; however, are ladies, and we shall expect to be treated as such."
From the corner of her eye Elizabeth had been watching Ian Thornton, who was listening to all of this, his jaw rigid, a muscle beginning to twitch dangerously in the side of his neck.
Lucinda, however, was either unaware of or unconcerned with his reaction, for, as she picked up her skirts and turned toward the stairs, she turned on Jake. "You may show us to our chambers. We wish to retire."
"Retire!" cried Jake, thunderstruck. "But-but what about supper?" he sputtered.
"You may bring it up to us."
Elizabeth saw the blank look on Jake's face, and she endeavored to translate, politely, what the irate woman was saying to the startled red-haired man.
"What Miss Throckmorton-Jones means is that we're rather exhausted from our trip and not very good company, sir, and so we prefer to dine in our rooms."
"You will dine," Ian Thornton said in an awful voice that made Elizabeth freeze, "on what cook for yourself, madam. If you want clean linens, you'll get them yourself from the cabinet. If you want clean rooms, clean them! Am I making myself clear?"
"Perfectly!" Elizabeth began furiously, but Lucinda interrupted in a voice shaking with ire: "Are you suggesting, sirrah, that we are to do the work of servants?"
Ian's experience with the and with Elizabeth had given him a lively contempt for ambitious, shallow, self-indulgent young women whose single goal in life was to acquire as many gowns and jewels as possible with the least amount of effort, and he aimed his attack at Elizabeth. "I am suggesting that you look after yourself for the first time in your silly, aimless life. In return for that, I am willing to give you a roof over your head and to share our food with you until I can get you to the village. If that is too overwhelming a task for you, then my original invitation still stands: There's the door. Use it!"
Elizabeth knew the man was irrational, and it wasn't worth riling herself to reply to him, so she turned instead to Lucinda. "Lucinda," she said with weary resignation, "do not upset yourself by trying to make Mr. Thornton understand that mistake has inconvenienced , not the other way around. You will only waste your time. A gentleman of breeding would be perfectly able to understand that he should be apologizing instead of ranting and raving. However, as I told you before we came here, Mr. Thornton is no gentleman. The simple fact is that he enjoys humiliating people, and he will continue trying to humiliate us for as long as we stand here."
Elizabeth cast a look of well-bred disdain over Ian and said, "Good night, Mr. Thornton." Turning, she softened her voice a little and said, "Good evening, Mr. Wiley.
"Swept off the chairs?" Lucinda suggested acidly. "Shoveled off the floor?"
"Lucinda!" Elizabeth whispered desperately. "They didn't know we were coming."
"No respectable person would dwell in such a place even for a night," she snapped, and Elizabeth watched in mingled distress and admiration as the redoubtable woman turned around and directed her attack on their unwilling host. "The responsibility for our being here is yours, whether it was a mistake or not! I shall expect you to rout your servants from their hiding places and have them bring clean linens up to us at once. I shall also expect them to have this squalor remedied by morning! It is obvious from your behavior that you are no gentleman; however, are ladies, and we shall expect to be treated as such."
From the corner of her eye Elizabeth had been watching Ian Thornton, who was listening to all of this, his jaw rigid, a muscle beginning to twitch dangerously in the side of his neck.
Lucinda, however, was either unaware of or unconcerned with his reaction, for, as she picked up her skirts and turned toward the stairs, she turned on Jake. "You may show us to our chambers. We wish to retire."
"Retire!" cried Jake, thunderstruck. "But-but what about supper?" he sputtered.
"You may bring it up to us."
Elizabeth saw the blank look on Jake's face, and she endeavored to translate, politely, what the irate woman was saying to the startled red-haired man.
"What Miss Throckmorton-Jones means is that we're rather exhausted from our trip and not very good company, sir, and so we prefer to dine in our rooms."
"You will dine," Ian Thornton said in an awful voice that made Elizabeth freeze, "on what cook for yourself, madam. If you want clean linens, you'll get them yourself from the cabinet. If you want clean rooms, clean them! Am I making myself clear?"
"Perfectly!" Elizabeth began furiously, but Lucinda interrupted in a voice shaking with ire: "Are you suggesting, sirrah, that we are to do the work of servants?"
Ian's experience with the and with Elizabeth had given him a lively contempt for ambitious, shallow, self-indulgent young women whose single goal in life was to acquire as many gowns and jewels as possible with the least amount of effort, and he aimed his attack at Elizabeth. "I am suggesting that you look after yourself for the first time in your silly, aimless life. In return for that, I am willing to give you a roof over your head and to share our food with you until I can get you to the village. If that is too overwhelming a task for you, then my original invitation still stands: There's the door. Use it!"
Elizabeth knew the man was irrational, and it wasn't worth riling herself to reply to him, so she turned instead to Lucinda. "Lucinda," she said with weary resignation, "do not upset yourself by trying to make Mr. Thornton understand that mistake has inconvenienced , not the other way around. You will only waste your time. A gentleman of breeding would be perfectly able to understand that he should be apologizing instead of ranting and raving. However, as I told you before we came here, Mr. Thornton is no gentleman. The simple fact is that he enjoys humiliating people, and he will continue trying to humiliate us for as long as we stand here."
Elizabeth cast a look of well-bred disdain over Ian and said, "Good night, Mr. Thornton." Turning, she softened her voice a little and said, "Good evening, Mr. Wiley.
( Judith McNaught )
[ Almost Heaven ]
www.QuoteSweet.com