A Comfortable Wife Read Online Free Page A

entrance?”
    Geoffrey nodded proudly. “Yes. Quite a stir it was, actually. I’m only just sixteen, you see.”
    Philip’s lips curved. “No more than I would expect of a Mannering.” He had years of experience of Antonia’s swift wits on which to base that judgement.
    Engaged in an entirely unaffected scrutiny of Philip’s coat, Geoffrey nodded absentmindedly. “Dare say you don’t remember me, but I was here, years ago, when the parents used to leave Antonia and me with Henrietta. But I was mostly in the nursery—and when I wasn’t I was with Henrietta. She used to be very…well, motherly, you know.”
    Draping an arm along the mantelpiece, Philip’s smile wry. “I do, as it happens. You’ve no idea how grateful I was, first to Antonia, then to you, for giving Henrietta an outlet for her maternal enthusiasms. I’m extremely fond of her, but I seriously doubt our relationship would be quite so cordial had she been forced to exercise her talents on me in lieu of other, more suitable targets.”
    Geoffrey regarded Philip measuringly. “But you must have been quite…that is, almost an adult when Henrietta married your father.”
    “Not quite a greybeard—only eighteen. And if you think you’ve outgrown Henrietta’s mothering just because you’ve reached sixteen, I suggest you think again.”
    “I already know that!” With a disgusted grimace, Geoffrey turned aside, picking up a figurine and turning it in his hands. “Sometimes,” he said, his voice low, “I think I’ll always be a child in their eyes.”
    Philip flicked a fleck of lint from his sleeve. “I shouldn’t let it bother you.” His tone was even, man to man. “You’ve only so many weeks to go before they’ll be forced to cut the apron strings.”
    Geoffrey’s expressive features contorted. “That’s just it—I can’t believe they actually will. They’ve never let me go before.” His brow clouded. “Mama wouldn’t hear of me going to school—I’ve had all my learning from tutors.”
    The door opened, cutting short their tête à tête. Philip straightened as Antonia came into the room. Geoffrey noted the movement. Replacing the figurine, he unobtrusively followed suit.
    “Good evening, Antonia.” Philip watched as she approached, a picture in soft yellow silk, the sheening fabric draping her curves, clinging, then hanging free, concealing then revealing in tantalizing glimpses. Her guinea-gold curls rioted in prolific confusion about her neat head; her expression was open, her hazel gaze, as always, direct.
    “My lord.” Graciously, Antonia inclined her head, her eyes going to her brother. “Geoffrey.” Her serene smile faded slightly. “I see you two have met.” Inwardly, Antonia prayed Geoffrey hadn’t developed one of his instant dislikes—something he was distressingly prone to do when confronted with gentlemen.
    Philip returned her smile. “We’ve been discussing Geoffrey’s impending adventure in joining the academic establishment.”
    “Adventure?” Antonia blinked, her gaze shifting to Geoffrey, then back to Philip.
    “Adventure indeed,” Philip assured her. “Or so it was when I went up. I doubt it’s changed. High drama, high jinks, life in all its varied forms. All the experience necessary to set a young gentleman’s feet on the road to worldly confidence.”
    Antonia’s eyes widened. “Worldly confidence?”
    “ Savoir faire, the ability to be at home in any company, the knowledge with which to face the world.” Philip gestured broadly; his grey eyes quizzed her. “How else do you imagine gentlemen such as I learned to be as we are, my dear?”
    The words were on the tip of Antonia’s tongue—she only just managed to swallow them. “I dare say,” she replied, in as repressive a tone as she could. The teasing light in Philip’s eyes was doing the most uncomfortable things to her stomach. A swift glance at Geoffrey confirmed that her precocious brother was not ignorant of the purport