A Stark Mismatch

VIII. Shelf Absorbed

THE ESTATE owned by the Earl of Kerndall did not shy away from the extravagance of its neighbors: white, bold, and very much imposing.

"How long are we going to wait here, milady?" asked Millie, leaning low to stare out the carriage window.

"Once Sabrina gets here," Angela replied.

"We have been here one hour. I knew we should have come later than planned." Her face painted the same irritation that was simmering inside Angela. "I heard that the American girl gives little regard to time."

Angela frowned. "I never mentioned she is from the Americas."

"I was with my cousin yesterday, milady, see? Her mistress is Madam Maude."

"The modiste?"

"The very one, yes." She leaned closer to whisper, "I heard that Mr Stark ordered more than a dozen gowns for his sister and they are planning for another visit."

Angela turned to stare at Millie when the woman did not add more. She did not like useless gossips, but this time she thought she needed valuable information. "And?"

It took that one question for Millie to spew more. "The Starks are Sutherlanders, but their parents took the entire family to travel the world, and that's how they grew up. Miss Sabrina stayed long in the Americas before she traveled to London a few years ago to join her brother. Something unfortunate happened that forced Mr Stark to return to Sutherland to settle, they say. My cousin said that Miss Sabrina coming here to join him may cause another stir like in London. Madam Maude is eager to see that happen here, saying Coulway needs more scandal."

"What happened in London?"

Millie shrugged. "I'm afraid my cousin never found out. Miss Sabrina is careful with her information, she said. She may seem the blabbering kind, but she is careful, my cousin said."

"Hmm," Angela uttered. "Curious."

"Indeed!"

Angela gave Millie a small smile. "You may spend as much time as you like with your cousin, Millie."

Her lips stretching with a wicked smile of understanding, Millie nodded. "Oh, it shall be my pleasure, milady."

Twenty minutes later—Angela knew for she had been closely monitoring—Sabrina finally drove into the driveway of the Kerndall estate. Soon, Angela's carriage was behind and she joined Sabrina by the door.

"Another important lesson you ought to learn, Sabrina," she said in greeting, "is that you can never be late."

"Oh, it is my brother," said Sabrina. "He has been giving me lectures on—"

"Then he should have known better," she cut in, stiffly turning to step through the doorway that a butler was holding open for them.

"This way, my ladies," the old man said, guiding them down the hall, into another corridor and into a drawing room that opened to the extravagant garden outside.

Leah was the first one Angela noticed. The woman glowed. It was as though she had her own personal reserve of sunshine—warm and magnificent.

She is perfect. Now, Angela only had to prove that the woman had the brains to match. Spencer always appreciated someone smart.

"We apologize, ladies," Sabrina said, gliding into the room as though she had been there before. Angela could not tell whether to be scandalized or proud. The woman could own any spot and steal the limelight, just as she was doing now. Suddenly, Leah's own light had dimmed, giving way to Sabrina's cheerful one. "We will not be late next time."