The Wedding Night Affair--An Historical Mystery by L.C. Sharp (books to read as a couple TXT) 📕

to see why I need to learn geometry. I don’t want to become an architect, and there is no other reason to learn it. I could spend more time on my Latin,” he added.

“You’ll need both,” Juliana said.

“Did you have a tutor?”

Juliana nodded. “I had a governess.” In fact, her education had been thorough, more than her father knew. In between lessons on household accounting and stillroom practices, Miss Laverty had found time to teach her more interesting topics, like the lessons on the principles of mathematics. “She left when my mother discovered I was too fond of her.” She smiled. “My next governess kept to the strictures my mother had laid out, but it was too late. I had discovered the solace of books.”

The short silence told her what the family thought of that. She thought it, too, and she’d cried bitter tears when Miss Laverty left, but she had taken care not to show any reaction to her mother’s terse information.

The noise set up again, but this time the family seemed more mindful of their guest. Either that, or they had satisfied their appetites, and soothed the inner bear.

The sheer normality of the meal, or at least, normal to them, soothed Juliana’s agitated senses. Even her wounds seemed better now she’d dressed and eaten. Of course the bath and the salve Amelia had given her might also have something to do with that. And she was getting used to making allowances for her injuries. Her elbow was still swollen from when Godfrey had twisted it behind her back, but already it felt easier.

Ash would have seen his sister’s sketches by now and read her account. Last night Juliana had forced herself to sit at Amelia’s desk and write a detailed account of what had happened to her, from her marriage to when she had woken up to find Godfrey dead beside her. Ash had visited the room long enough to witness her signature, then he’d taken the documents and Amelia’s sketches away with him. Before Juliana could change her mind. She’d tried to keep her account as factual as she could, but she’d had to pause occasionally. Remembering was difficult, but not as hard as living through the ordeal.

A shiver ran through her. The man sitting at the head of the table would know more about her than even her parents. But he was her only chance of surviving.

Would she have survived her late husband’s treatment for more than a single night?

“Were you born in the country?” she asked, a version of a conversation starter she used when putting people at their ease. This time she wanted to discover more about the family. Her natural curiosity was asserting itself.

Amelia nodded. “We were all born in the country except for Silence. She was born in town, after our mother came here on an errand.”

Ash sipped his tea, watching everyone, but venturing nothing.

“Silence?” What an odd name. And who was the person Amelia nearly mentioned earlier? This family had secrets.

Amelia exchanged a glance with Ash, then turned her attention back to Juliana. “Silence married before we left the country to come here. She is our oldest sister.”

“It’s an interesting name,” Juliana murmured. Ash had not mentioned his sister by name. Why would that be?

“We all have names that are a little—different,” Amelia said. “But we choose not to use them. Silence’s husband preferred her to keep her birth name.”

Juliana felt as if she was treading on forbidden ground. A fraught tension entered the atmosphere. Her social training worked for her now, reminding her she had no rights here, no prying allowed. Better to change the subject, even if she was aching to know more.

“What’s it like living in town all year round? Or do you go into the country in the summer?”

“Only when the weather gets too hot to stay in town,” Amelia answered her, reaching for the slab of butter that lay in the center of the table. She lavished a generous portion on her slice of bread before she spoke again. “Ash will sometimes stay here alone.”

“The house seems much larger without you all,” Ash observed. “Not to mention more peaceful.”

“Have you ever been presented at court?” Juliana asked.

Ash gave her an amused smile. “No. Why would we?”

“I thought everyone who could be did...” It was part of her world that when a girl reached adulthood, she was presented at court.

She should not have said it. She knew that from the amused and puzzled looks the Ashendons exchanged.

Juliana applied herself to her meal and didn’t speak again for a while.

Amelia, who had finished her plateful, rested her elbow on the table and leaned her cheek on her hand. “What’s it like, being presented at court?”

“Hot,” she answered. “Whatever the weather, they have fires burning in every hearth, and they never open the windows.” She recalled her presentation in excruciating detail. “I wore a mantua, which went out of fashion twenty years ago, with the train pinned up behind. Extremely rich fabric, but court is the only place I ever wear it.”

“If you can’t afford such extravagance, you have no part there,” Ash said, buttering the last roll.

“Oh, yes. Yes, that is exactly right. I have several court mantuas, since my father attends court quite a lot. But I do not wear them anywhere else, and they stay in town when I leave for the country. It’s ridiculous.” And for the first time since she’d been told about her future husband, she laughed. Actually laughed. Not long, or uproariously, but another break between yesterday and today happened, and she relaxed a little bit more.

The doorbell clanged. Not the delicate chime of her town house, but a full-bodied jangle.

Soon after that, a large footman tapped at the door and entered, closing the door behind him. He handed Ash a visiting card. Juliana couldn’t see whose name was emblazoned there, but she recognized the quality of the pasteboard and the embossing.

Ash passed her the card. She didn’t have to read it