"Envy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Godbersen Anna)

Thirteen

PENELOPE RECLINED AGAINST THE EMERALD GREEN seat in her little section of the Schoonmaker railcar, her heavy ivory skirt fishtailing to the polished wood paneling of the floor. They had traveled many miles already and had arrived at that slow hour before dinner. Her guests were enjoying aperitifs in their seats; she could observe them, down the aisle, only partially obscured by the sliding doors that separated each section. Her arms, which were covered to the wrist in billowing rose-colored chiffon, were crossed over her chest, and she kept a dark brow arched as she gazed down the aisle. Miss Broad was in the next section and situated across the aisle, still sporting the camel-colored traveling suit that she had worn when they boarded in the late morning.

She was looking about her, at the hooped and fringed surroundings, at the ferns and cut flowers, as though she had never seen such finery before. It was quite possible she had not. Every time a man walked down the aisle she glanced up expectantly as though it might be Leland Bouchard; her heavy lids drooped down over her sage green irises each time she realized it was not. She had a crush on him — this was perfectly clear to Penelope from the way she always asked if he would be present at events they attended — but she didn’t have to be so pathetic about it.

Beyond Miss Broad and on the same side of the aisle were the Misses Holland. They sat together on the seat, the russet tones in Diana’s hair brought out by the green velvet upholstery. The older sister’s eyes had closed, and she rested her head on the younger’s shoulder, which looked to Penelope like an over-the-top and probably insincere display of affection. The brunette sister, meanwhile, read a book. She was lovely — Penelope knew it, even while the knowledge burned her. The girl’s curls shone, her eyes were bright, and her features were gorgeously composed. Although Penelope had used the news of her defilement in order to secure her own marriage, her husband’s former paramour maintained an aura of purity that Penelope would have liked to slap off her tart face.

Meanwhile, Penelope’s impatience grew. She had sent the messenger half an hour ago, and still nothing. She tilted her head back against the full cushions and looked at the beveled mirror above. The lips she saw in the reflection on the ceiling were generous and scarlet, the hair dark in contrast with her incandescent skin. Her hair was done up elaborately, with curls and braids and the little bangs dividing her unblemished forehead. She would not have thought that Henry’s affections would have lasted this long, or that Diana would be quite such competition for her. But Penelope had to grudgingly acknowledge how much space the younger Holland still occupied in Henry’s heart, for whenever he was remotely near her his whole bearing changed.

It was not that Penelope felt weakened, or even particularly unhappy. She was at that very moment utterly comfortable — it was her policy to always be comfortable unless beauty demanded otherwise — and she was enjoying hosting a bevy of guests in the grand cars that everyone knew were owned by her family-in-law. Henry’s indifference was irritating, but it could not detract from the pride she felt at being so publicly known to be his consort, or to be seen as the equal owner of his many treasures. And though she did feel Isabelle’s absence a little — that lady always knew how to enjoy fine things — she was exceedingly pleased to be the only Mrs. Schoonmaker onboard.

“And what does my favorite sister want?”

Penelope twisted around to see, at last, the figure of her brother approaching from the rear of the train. He moved quickly to kiss her cheek, and then fell into the velvet-covered seat opposite her. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his cuffs had come undone. She considered but decided against pointing out that she was his only sister, and that there were no others to play favorites with.

“I have an assignment for you,” she answered eventually. “An assignment?” Grayson’s mouth went crooked at the corner and he watched his younger sibling attentively with his matching blue eyes.

“Yes.” Penelope paused, and let her gaze wander back down to where Diana was. The girl looked up from her book and let her rich brown eyes stare back at Penelope for a long moment. She and her sister had both dressed for dinner, although Diana’s pale blue dress with the deep and lacy décolletage and the puffed sleeves was clearly not a new one. “I don’t think you’ll object, after you’ve heard it.”

“You’re little schemes are always amusing, Penny.”

The younger Hayes sibling felt another stab of irritation at the sound of her childhood nickname, especially after she had done him the compliment of waiting for him. “Please don’t call me that.”

He grinned, and the chandelier light that beamed down from the car’s ceiling reflected on his white teeth. Darkness was falling on the country passing by in their windows, and shadows emerged to dramatize the architecture of their faces, neither of which was built for kindly expressions. “My apologies, Mrs. Schoonmaker.”

She returned his smile broadly. “Thank you, brother.”

“Anything for you, dear sister.”

“I am glad to hear that,” she went on, lowering her voice confidentially, “because your assignment will require special delicacy.”

“And that is because?”

Penelope tilted her head to the left and let all of her long fingers rest against her slender neck. “I would like you to be a little nice — a little affectionate — with the younger Miss Holland.”

Grayson paused and looked down the aisle of the train; Penelope extended herself so that she could see what he saw. Diana didn’t raise her eyes this time, but adjusted her position so that the fading light from outside cast pretty shadows on her peach chest.

“A little nice?” Grayson asked as he pressed back into his seat.

Penelope’s eyes rolled coyly to the mirror above her head. She straightened her bangs and considered her words. “Yes, but not too nice. Get her to like you, but then hold back. You understand, don’t you? Keep her busy, but see if you can’t toss her heart around a little. She’s so young, and she could afford to be played a few times yet.” She wrinkled her nose and winked at her brother. She wasn’t sure if he was going to ask why, and not wanting to dwell on the rationale, she added: “Just for fun. We have such a long train ride, and one needs to entertain oneself and one’s guests during a seaside stay.”

Grayson looked at the Hollands one last time, and then turned back to his sister with a vaguely amused expression. He ran his fingers through his slick, dark hair and then shrugged, as though it were all the same to him. “Well, why not? She’s pretty enough.”

“I told you you’d like it!” Penelope laughed, although Diana Holland’s physical qualities were not the least bit funny to her when, in the next moment, her husband entered the car, looked down the aisle at the girl, and immediately assumed the expression of a man struck by Cupid’s arrow. If Grayson — whose gaze wavered momentarily between both Schoonmakers — made any connections, he gave no sign of it. Then Mrs. Schoonmaker stood, extended her rose chiffon — covered arms to her husband’s shoulders, and blocked his view. A few seconds passed before Henry’s black eyes met hers, but there was scarcely any recognition in them at all.