Iphigenia's good nature yearned to solve this poor woman's problems by removing herself and her family, but Iphigenia's good sense told her that, not only was it an impractical impulse, but that it would not remove quite all Lady Wynleigh's problems. She contented herself with asking, 'May I sit down with you ma'am?'
With a mechanical civility, Lady Wynleigh replied, 'Why yes, of course. Please do.' She began looking around distractedly for an excuse to escape.
Iphigenia claimed her attention by placing one of her own gloved hands on that of Lady Wynleigh, preventing her aunt from continuing to clutch at her own skirts, ruinously crushing them. 'May I venture an apology for my mother's manner of expressing herself?' Iphigenia asked carefully.
Not entirely attending, the older woman replied, 'Pray, do not disturb yourself. ' She flapped her fan furiously and continued to look for an escape.
Iphigenia could not help laughing, which made Lady Wynleigh really take note of her. 'I suppose that one of us, at least, must appear at their ease, ma'am? Was that what you meant?'
'Well, no,' Lady Wynleigh replied. She was too much taken aback to continue her thoughts about what a dilemma she was in. Sighing, she added, 'But I suppose one of us must.'
'Both, ma'am, if we can manage it,' Iphigenia added, smiling conspiratorially. 'Shall I own myself to be feeling great apprehension at how you were to receive us here? I am aware of the manner in which my mother must have imposed on you.'
Her candour was disarming. Lady Wynleigh looked her directly in the eye for a moment, and then lowered her gaze, blushing. 'I am very pleased to be the means of creating reconciliation in the family. Although I married Wynleigh many years after ... after your parents' own marriage, I have never felt it right for a family to cut off one of its own. How awful for poor Adeline! To be without support and a family's care!' Lady Wynleigh shuddered in genuine sympathy. She continued softly, 'But I am glad not to have met her before Old Lord Wynleigh died. I do not know what I should have done then ...' her voice trailed off, and her unseeing eyes told of her worried introspection.
'We must consider it a fortunate circumstance, then, that he is no longer with us. My uncle certainly seems to have embraced the spirit of forgiveness,' Iphigenia added comfortingly.
Picking at some loose stitching on her skirt, Lady Wynleigh answered non-comittally, 'He has found some consolation in today's events.'
Trying to lighten her aunt's oppression, she inquired teasingly, 'My uncle mut have been greatly vexed with you when you came home today? You are lucky to escape with only a beating, no doubt?' She laughed, in the expectation of Lady Wynleigh joining in.
Instead, the lady glanced at Iphigenia sharply, before replying, 'I am glad that he was not as ill-pleased as he might have been,' She stood up immediately, unfurled her fan, and said absentmindedly as she walked away, 'Excuse me, please. I need to take a turn of the room.'
Iphigenia was dumbstruck. All at once, the awkwardness of her situation impressed itself on her, the general undesirability of being at Wynleigh, and the social discomfort she felt then, particularly - her mother, brother and uncle were all seated on the other side of the room engaged in conversation - to join them would occasion remark. Her aunt had left her on a double settee, and obviously did not desire her company as she walked around the room. Iphigenia glanced over to where Commander Aldace was re-stacking the music sheets. He threw a fleeting look in her direction, meeting her eye as if to congratulate her on so swiftly offending yet another member of the party. He turned his back to her, seeming to find extreme interest in a large floral arrangement in a tall vase near the piano.
Iphigenia was humiliated and angry all at once. She determined to show neither emotion, and made a great display of being delighted at the coincidence of discovering a small book on a gilt edged table beside her seat. She opened it up, flashed a look at Aldace over the top of the page, was gratified to see that he was looking in her direction, and began to read.
Almost immediately to her dismay, she discovered that she was reading a medical treatise, obviously written for the benefit of mariners, dealing with the identification of various physical complaints and how best to remedy them while at sea. She could feel Aldace's eyes on her. Whenever she encountered words such as suppurating, pus, gangrene or foetid. Although Aldace had resumed his study of the floral arrangement, Iphigenia knew that he was laughing at her, and she read on determinedly.
Before she was compelled to discover the best methods for ensuring a successful amputation, Waulmsley appeared and notified Lady Wynleigh that dinner was ready.
Lady Wynleigh folded her fan and quietly thanked Waulmsley, who took this as his signal to open the double doors to the dining room. He stood in silent disapproval at his post beside the buffet in readiness to dispense the wine. Lady Wynleigh offered her arm to Aldace, who took it with the greatest degree of affability that Iphigenia had hitherto seen him display to anyone. They waited for the rest of the party to assemble, but Lodr Wynleigh strode up to them and threw his wife's arm off that of Aldace. Lady Wynleigh cast her eyes to the floor, the fan in her hand trembling slightly. Aldace himself appeared first surprised and then outraged at the behaviour, but he managed to suppress these emotions and waited to see what else would happen.
Brusquely, Wynleigh demanded of his wife, 'Devil take it, woman! Do you think that I should lead my own sister in to dinner?' He weaved a little on his feet and his face was flushed with drink.
She replied, haltingly, 'I did not think that it would ... I rather thought that you might like to do so, after so long ...' Her voice trailed off as she realised that nothing she said would make any difference for the better.
Wynleigh spared a glance at the assembled party. Aldace was carefully avoiding his host's eye, but Iphigenia noticed that his jaw was clenched, despite the studied indifference with which he was examining his fingernails. Lady Adeline's expression, too, was an achievement - she contrived to appear as unconcerned as if she had merely heard that the meat was over cooked. Kit looked faintly horrified, and made no attempt to conceal it, and it was clear to Wynleigh's shrewd eye that Iphigenia was taking careful note of it all.
His lordship cleared his throat, adjusted his neck cloth, and with chubby fingers smoothed his coat over his paunch. 'How very kind of you, Sophia,' he managed to say with but the remotest tinge of annoyance. 'However, I could never bear to see you taking second place to another woman at your own table. I am sure that Adeline must agree with me,' at which the lady lowered her head ever so slightly, keeping her expression carefully neitral. 'You see, my dear? We are all in agreement then.' He offered his wife his arm, with a forced smile. When she quaveringly took it, he patted it, and proceeded in to dinner.
