Chapter 93
serving, when the solicitor came from Derwentwater to draw up the wedding contract. The Lady Geneva had been informed two days ago. According to her maid, Betty, the news had not been well received. He contented himself with a noncommittal grunt. “To Ellesmere,” she said. The color rose higher in her cheeks, and her lips pressed together. “I wish ye every happiness, my lady.” Tred pulled briefly on the reins as they came to the end of the field. He was out of the seat before Bess had set her hooves; he had no wish at all to linger in conversation with the Lady Geneva, whose mood seemed thoroughly dangerous. “Happiness!” she cried. Her big gray eyes flashed and she slapped the thigh of her habit. “Happiness! Married to a man old enough to be my own grandsire?” Tred refrained from sayin
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