Intolerable Civility

Chapter Twenty-Two: Heartless and Unforgiving

The minute Cate arrived back at Plas Bryn, the footman informed her that Sarah, Laurie, and Mrs Demery were having tea in the drawing room. At any other time, Cate would have left them to it, but today she bore good news and she rather wistfully hoped that Mrs Demery might perhaps thank her for it. She was still quite scared of Mrs Demery. So she braved her in-laws' company, settling Luke down on the sofa near Laurie and pouring herself a cup of tea before it could become rude that no one had offered.

"I'll make a cup for David," Sarah said, leaning forward over the tray.

"No. He's not here. He stayed behind to do some business. He will be back in a week or so."

Sarah looked disappointed, but Laurie looked up from jogging Luke on her knee. "That means his application was somewhat successful?"

"Very successful," Cate said proudly. "My father has agreed to invest a large sum. David will be able to hire men to start digging as soon as he comes back."

Laurie raised her eyebrows and Sarah clapped her hands, but Mrs Demery only pursed her lips.

"He would have better waited to find impartial investors," she said. "There is too much entitlement when one involves family with business. I suppose Sir William only invested to make up for David having to marry you."

Cate choked on her tea. "That it is not at all the case. My father would never make any investment if he did not believe it was a sound one."

"Why does it even matter?" Laurie said. "If David has the money, he'll be developing the mines and making even more, and he won't have to run off to London for months at a time because things aren't doing well here." She cast a sly glance at Sarah. "You might have to return to the metropolis without his company, dear cousin."

Sarah smiled placidly. "I have no plans to return to London just yet."

"I thought you were tired of Wales," Cate said.

"I am developing bucolic habits," Sarah said. "I have taken up walking and I paint views of the sea."

"They're not very good," Laurie said. "It is mostly just grey upon grey."

"I enjoy myself," Sarah said with dignity. "The occupation is the object."

"And I do not object to it," Laurie said. "Spinsters are much better employed outdoors than in, I believe. A bit of wind and rain clears the cobwebs from their souls, but embroidery and carpet-work, well, it waxes a spiritual mustiness, doesn't it? And it ruins the eyesight. A spinster needs good eyesight. How else can she peer from behind curtains to any good purpose?"

It was impressive that Sarah managed to listen to that without even the hint of a blush. She acted as though it had never been spoken, turning to Cate with a smile.

"Tell me about your visit to your family, Catherine. Is your mother well?"

"My mother is well, yes." That was consciously polite. "My father is well too. And my youngest sister is very well. She met David for the first time. I think they will get along." If they ever got to spend any time together. "It was very good to see her again."

"How pleasant."

Laurie's rudeness was thus passed over as if it had never occurred. She slumped back on the sofa with Luke in her lap, speaking nonsense to him under her breath. Cate wondered what her purpose was in saying such things — to merely be hurtful? Or did she really dislike Sarah? It was not as though Laurie were in a position to look down upon her cousin — she was a widow herself, without children or prospects or fortune, and not much more than a few years younger than Sarah.