Миранда Джеймс - Dead With The Wind

She would also have a few choice words for Dickce later on, for bringing up the subject and basically forcing someone to tell the story. At least Sondra wasn’t in the room. An’gel had to wonder, however, whether the girl made a regular habit of having a fit and running away from the dinner table.

“That is truly a sad story,” An’gel said when the silence began to feel uncomfortable.

“Yes, it is,” Jacqueline said, looking sour. “Fortunately it has nothing to do with us or with my daughter’s wedding. I can’t believe Estelle brought it up like that.” She turned to glare at her mother. “ Maman , I have to say I agree with Sondra. What Estelle did is the last straw. She has to go.”

Mireille seemed to shrink in her chair, and An’gel felt sorry for her. Mireille hated confrontation of any kind, and here she was faced with one that she couldn’t ignore. From An’gel’s point of view, Mireille had no choice now but to fire her housekeeper.

“Now is not the time, nor is this the place, to discuss it further,” Mireille finally said, a note of iron in her tone. “I will deal with the situation as I see fit, and I will not be bullied in my own home.” She faced her daughter with a defiant expression.

Good for you , An’gel thought. About time Mireille showed some backbone.

The silence after Mireille’s declaration became awkward, and An’gel decided it was up to her to put an end to this unpleasant interlude. She pushed back her chair and rose.

“Mireille, my dear, the dinner was excellent, as always. I regret having to break up the party, but I am rather weary after a long day. I hope you won’t take it amiss if I excuse myself—along with Dickce and Benjy—and we retire to our cottages.” She sent a pointed glance in her sister’s direction, and Dickce quickly stood, with a smile for Mireille.

“Yes, as Sister says, we’ve had a long day, and we belles of a certain age need all the beauty rest we can get.” Dickce placed her hand on Benjy’s shoulder, and he stood alongside her, nodding.

Thurston rose as well. “I have to say, Miss Dickce, that I can’t see where either of you needs any beauty rest.” He winked at An’gel. “But I have to be in court first thing tomorrow, so I’d best be taking my leave as well.” He bent and picked up Mireille’s left hand and bestowed a quick kiss on it. “If there’s anything at all I can help you with, chère madame , you know you have only to ask.”

Mireille looked far more relieved than affronted, An’gel thought, to have the dinner party break up so early. It was barely eight o’clock, she noted from a surreptitious glance at her watch.

“Then I will bid you all a good night.” Mireille smiled graciously as she, too, rose from the table.

The next few minutes were spent with the usual business of leave-taking and wishing one another a good night, but finally An’gel, Dickce, and Benjy walked out the front door on their way to peace and quiet in their cottages. Thurston was behind them, still chatting with Jacqueline at the door, as they made their way through the grounds with the aid of flashlights provided by Mireille.

When they were safely out of earshot, An’gel said, “Poor Mireille. She has a tough situation on her hands.”

Dickce snorted. “It’s her own fault for putting up with that woman all these years. I’m surprised someone hasn’t batted Estelle over the head long before now. She’s tiresome and difficult.”

Benjy extended his arm for An’gel and then for Dickce to grasp as they navigated some exposed tree roots on their path. “Mrs. Champlain seems like a nice lady. I hated to see her looking so uncomfortable because of that weird housekeeper.”

“There’s no easy solution to the problem.” An’gel’s tone was grim. “Estelle is sure to have conniptions if Mireille fires her, and Sondra will probably have the lulu of all tantrums if her grandmother doesn’t get rid of Estelle.”

“They could just put a muzzle on Sondra.” Benjy laughed. “I’m surprised no one’s clunked her over the head, honestly.”

“A few good spankings at the right age, or lots of time-outs when she was little, would have done that girl a world of good,” Dickce said. “Her daddy spoiled her rotten, and by the time he died, the damage was done. Neither Mireille nor Jacqueline, I hate to say, has ever had enough spine to deal with the girl.”

An’gel was relieved when they reached the lights surrounding the cottages and turned off her flashlight with gratitude. Earlier she had simply made a polite remark to put an end to a tense situation, but now that she was close to her bed, she did feel tired. All that emotion was exhausting, even if one was only forced to witness it.

Dickce unlocked their door as An’gel turned to Benjy. “I’m sorry you had to see all that. I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable.”

Benjy shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. I used to see stuff like that all the time.”

An’gel knew he was talking about his life with his parents and his stepfather’s mother, their old friend Rosabelle Sultan, and felt even guiltier. She patted his shoulder. “This will soon be over, and we can head back to Riverhill and forget about all this drama.”

Benjy laughed. “I’m looking forward to getting home. Good night, Miss An’gel, Miss Dickce. I’m going to walk Peanut again in a while, but we’ll be settling in for the night soon.” He gave each of them a quick peck on the cheek before unlocking his own door and disappearing inside.

An’gel could hear the excited woofing noises from Peanut next door upon seeing Benjy as she followed Dickce into their cottage.

“What a dear, sweet boy he is,” Dickce said. “Thank the Lord he’s nothing like Sondra or her loopy fiancé. You should have seen the way Lance was staring at Benjy all during that fiasco of a meal. Sondra, too, come to think of it.”

An’gel dropped wearily onto the plush sofa and kicked off her pumps. “We should probably have let Benjy stay at Riverhill with Endora and Peanut. I’m sure they would have been happier.”

“What’s done is done.” Dickce stepped out of her shoes and bent to pick them up. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to get ready for bed. This day has been overwhelming. Good night.” She disappeared into her bedroom and shut the door.

An’gel called good night after her sister. She remained on the sofa, lacking for the moment the energy to get up and go to her own room. Her thoughts focused on the dinner party and its seething undercurrents. There had seemed an unpleasant undertone to the whole evening. From Horace’s occasional vulgarities to Sondra’s rude behavior before and during the meal and the ugliness of the scene with Estelle, the whole occasion had been the fiasco Dickce said it was.

They were due back at Willowbank in the morning for breakfast at seven thirty. An’gel wondered whether she, Dickce, and Benjy would be subjected to further drama. Rather bleakly, she laughed. Probably not a question of “if” but of how much . With that unpleasant thought, she pushed herself up from the sofa, picked up her shoes, and went to her bedroom.

An’gel slept soundly that night and woke to her travel clock alarm at six thirty. She yawned and pushed aside the covers. The bed was comfortable, and she felt reluctant to leave it. Duty called, however. She couldn’t put off getting ready for the day and whatever it entailed.

From the bathroom window she peered outside. The sun wouldn’t rise for about half an hour yet, and she hoped the storm that Estelle forecast would not come through until after the wedding. Bad weather would simply make already worn nerves more ragged.

An’gel admonished herself to shake off morbid thoughts. She focused instead on her bath and toilette. By the time she emerged from her bedroom, dressed in a casual, colorful linen print dress and flats, she felt more sanguine. The smell of hot coffee that wafted toward her cheered her even further. She traced the smell to the tiny kitchenette tucked away in a corner of the cottage near the front door. She found Dickce seated at a small banquette, cup in hand.