by Fanny Finch
He enjoyed feeling alive.
“Come, young people. I do not think we need to be here anymore. We have done what we came here to do.”
“How did you know I would be coming here, Mother?” Leander said, stopping her from going to the front doors. She tilted her head.
“I did not know, Leander. I just chose this time to come and here you are. Just a little too late, I guess.”
“I thought you cared about my feelings. I thought you wanted me to be happy.”
“You will be happy,” the Countess of Coventry growled, moving her eyes in Drusilla’s direction. The young woman was looking back and forth between the two of them. If she cared about anything that was going on, she registered no change of emotion because of it.
Leander felt like she knew a lot more about it than she was letting on. But whenever he thought he caught her looking at something with an intelligent, sharp look, she would quickly glance up and the look would be gone.
His suspicion remained but he kept quiet about it. In the back of his mind, the furthest recesses of his brain, he was storing the information so that one day he could use it to make Miss Drusilla talk to him.
If he could get the truth from her, he was willing to bet she was about as interested in marrying him as he was in marrying her. The trouble was getting the truth would be like pulling out her teeth.
He doubted it could be done. If it was something her father wanted and his father wanted, and she was aware of the money his family had, added to the wealth of her own family… she would be a fool to turn down such an offer.
He shook his head and leaned down to whisper to his mother, “I know what I want, Mother. I will have to talk Father into it but I will not be turned away from her. I want to be with her. I am sorry but…”
“I do not wish to speak of this anymore today. The entire morning has been wasted and it is now time for luncheon. Come with us, Leander.” She used a demanding voice, expecting her son to bow to her every wish.
Leander could feel himself giving in. He hated the control his mother had over him. “Mother, I would like to stay and speak with the Earl of Nott…”
“He is busy,” his mother interrupted him.
Leander took a moment to wonder why women were constantly interrupting him when he spoke.
“You know that he is preparing for his daughter’s arrival. She has been gone from the household for a year, I believe. It will be quite a joyous reunion.”
“I do not know about that,” Leander said. “She was fired from her position at the Culross estate. I know Lady Eugenia must be devastated. I should go and offer my condolences and apologize again.”
“Yes,” his mother’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “You go over there and make a fool of yourself if you like. I have no doubt that the Viscount of Culross will have you thrown off the estate.”
Leander did not want to admit that he already had been and that he was the reason Hestia was fired, to begin with. He thought his mother probably suspected, though.
“You will come with us, son, and you will see the gardens of London with us. It has been several years since you and I spent an afternoon together. We can have one of those days today. We will make memories that we would not otherwise have to look back on. Do not deny a mother her chance to be with her child, I beg you.”
Leander felt himself giving in to his love for his mother. She saw the look on his face change and a bright grin spread on her face. “That’s my boy. I do love you, my son.” She stood up on her tiptoes to put a kiss on his cheek.
He bent forward to accommodate her so she would not lose her balance.
The Countess of Coventry pushed her son’s arm in Miss Drusilla’s direction. “Take his arm, Miss Drusilla. It is best if you are seen going out arm in arm in case any servants are watching. This way they will know who the young man was calling upon. And it was not any of the Stalwood girls.”
She sounded delighted that they were able to fool all the servants.
Leander thought it was a stupid thing to gloat about.
He did not want Miss Drusilla hanging from his arm. He did not want to be too close to her. The strange smell that always enveloped her washed over him when she took his arm.
“Mother, this is not necessary.” He tried to hold his breath and only breathe in small spurts. Sitting in the coach with her was going to be unbearable. He thought to ask if she kept cloves of garlic in her clothing.
If she said no, he would suggest it. It was probably the only scent that would overpower it.
“Just follow me, Leander. And do stop complaining. It is most unbecoming of you.”
Leander grunted. Unbecoming. What was unbecoming was forcing a child to marry a woman with bad manners and a terrible stench about her. It was making plans for your child to live an unhappy life with said woman whether he liked it or not.
He tried to take long steps but was disappointed when Miss Drusilla kept up with him the whole way. He had not taken into account that her legs were fairly long, like her body. She was nearly as tall as him and seemed quite proud of her stature.
Leander was not intimidated by Miss Drusilla’s height. He was not intimidated by her brash attitude either. He was, in fact, more determined than ever to get out of the courtship, to make it clear that he was not going to marry Miss Drusilla.
A gust of wind picked up and the women clutched the vests of their dresses together in front of them with one hand while holding their hats down with the other.
Leander watched as the wind picked up his hat and carried it off on its long invisible arms. He watched until the hat landed in a tree far, far away.
He looked at the women, who had both watched the same event. They were smiling. He smiled at his mother, shaking his head. “I suppose I will never see that hat again. I do apologize if it was a present from you.”
“It may have been,” the Countess of Coventry laughed. “I am not worried about it, my son. Neither should you be.”
Leander held the door open for the two women, helping them up into the carriage. He moved to his coach long enough to tell the driver to head back home. He would be returning later and might want to go back out.
He did not want to talk when he got up into the carriage with his mother and Miss Drusilla. He could not think of a single interesting thing to say and was not particularly trying very hard to think of anything.
He had planned out everything he wanted to say to the Earl of Nottingham all the way here. When he saw that he was not going to have much time, he shortened everything in a matter of minutes.
But in the end, he had not even been given the chance to speak to him at all. He was forced to go along with his mother and father and Miss Drusilla.
He did not want to anymore.
But as he looked at his mother’s satisfied face, he knew it was not going to be easy, breaking away from what he was told to do.
His heart longed for Lady Hestia to be sitting just where Miss Drusilla was at that moment. How he wished he had not made the mistakes that led him to this point.
When would he learn to think first?
Chapter 32
Hestia recovered from her crying only to sit on the edge of the bed and stare into space. She thought about going back to Stalwood Manor with a mixture of hopefulness and dread.
She was sure things had not changed in her home. Her father had not shown any signs of putting a stop to his gambling, that she knew of. She had not heard any news from her mother or sisters at all.
She had never expected any letters from her sisters. They were often wrapped up in their own worlds and gave no thought to anyone outside their bubble.
She thought about the last day before she had come to stay at the Culross mansion. The day she had packed what she needed, surrounded by her three sisters. Marianne, her oldest sister, was sprawled back in the chair of Hestia’s dressing table. She had one arm hanging over the back and looked as relaxed as a girl could possibly get.
Sh
e was watching Hestia pack with a blank look on her face. Virginia was standing at the end of the bed, leaning on the post, both hands up on it as if she was holding on for dear life.
Hestia’s youngest sister, Lillian, who was just 13, was at the head of the bed, sitting sideways on the pillows.
“I do not know why you have to go, Hestia,” Lillian had said in a sad voice. Hestia looked at her as she folded a dress in quarters.
“You will understand someday, Lillian, I promise you.”
“But I want to understand now.” Lillian crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her lower lip.
“I am not the only sister you have,” Hestia giggled, glancing at her other sisters.
“That is true,” Marianne said, sliding her disinterested eyes to her youngest sister. “You have Virginia and me. Do we mean nothing?”
Lillian shook her head. “No, that is not what I mean. I do not want anyone to go away. I will miss you, Hestia!”
Hestia’s smile remained throughout the banter. “I know you will, Lillian. But I will not be gone for good. We can write letters and I am only a short carriage ride away!”
“It will not be the same without you here.”
“What will you do when we start marrying our husbands and going away?” Marianne teased Lillian. “You will be all alone here for at least a year or two.”
“Oh!” Lillian huffed. “I do not want to think about that!”
“Marianne, do not tease her so,” Virginia said, shaking her head but smiling at her sisters. “I do not blame you for doing what you are doing, Hestia. Would that I had enough courage to do it myself!”
“It is not as hard as you think.”
Hestia remembered thinking that it would be a relief to be gone from the house and in a new place where the light shining through the windows represented the freedom she craved. There was no life in the Nottingham mansion.
Thinking back on that day, Hestia felt a fondness for her sisters she had not felt before. She realized she did miss them, in a way. They had never been particularly close but there were characteristics in her sisters that Hestia admired.
Marianne was creative, having a flair for dramatics. Virginia was logical, a bookworm, some might say. And little Lillian… she had yet to grow into the woman she would become. For now, she was enjoying the fruits of being young. Though she was not spoiled with many materialistic things, she had a bright sense of positivity that spread to whomever she was with.
Hestia folded her bag and set it down on the floor next to the first one. She would have to come back for some of her other belongings. Her closet was still filled with possessions and clothing.
She went to the window and looked out, wishing it was not the last time she would be doing so.
On the other hand, she was doing so with the belief that returning to her family home would open her up to Leander as wife material. Perhaps his mother and father would reconsider their arrangement with the Sireys if they knew she was an honorable lady, the daughter of an earl.
There was no way around the fact that her family had dwindling resources and no accounts to save them. Hestia knew that was a priority to the Earl and Countess of Coventry.
She let thoughts of Leander float through her mind. His words in the maze still resonated in her mind. The way the word “love” had easily rolled from his tongue.
She wanted to hear him say he loved her. Every day for the rest of her life.
Thoughts of him made her feel warm inside. She clutched her hands together in front of her throat, feeling starry-eyed and giddy.
She may have lost her position as Lady Eugenia’s companion, but she was not to be thrown to the streets. She still had a home to go back to.
She felt blessed that was the case. When she first considered the opportunity, she pondered for several weeks how to tell her parents what she wanted to do. She knew they would object. And they did. At first.
But Hestia was a good speaker. She had learned in all her years of reading books in her father’s and grandfather’s library how to turn a phrase.
“You will not be considered a lady of the ton if you are working as a companion,” her mother said in a shocked voice. “I do not think it is a good idea.”
Hestia nodded. “I realize that I must sacrifice something to do this, Mother, but it is only temporary. I would not need to remain in that position for long. I simply need to secure a place for myself in the future.”
“You will be making a good salary?”
She knew why her father asked that. Hestia still remembered when he had said she had a week to consider giving money to Marianne. She had not heard another thing about it after that. She had, in fact, forgotten about it.
Her father did not bring it up, which did not surprise her. She suspected he made threats to others and they called his bluff, just as she had. It was the way her father operated.
She still did not feel bad about saying no to him. She was sure Leander would not care about the size of her dowry. It was his parents that would object.
There had to be a way around their objections. Hestia knew that in the end, it would be Leander’s decision. She wondered what was at stake for him. If he objected to marrying Drusilla and chose her over his father’s argument, would he be banished by his father? Would he be shunned by society? ?
She could only hope not. She was not sure she would be considered worthy of such a high price, especially when her family was not able to provide for and build him back up.
Hestia suspected Leander could probably help her father out tremendously. And he would be willing to. Not with money but with business sense. She had never asked him if he was a successful man of business but she assumed he was, simply because he was so intelligent and so well put together. If Leander was willing to take over the accounts and set them back to rights, her family might prosper once more.
Left to his own devices, the Earl of Nottingham had not fared well.
Hestia’s fondness for her parents was mixed in with a batch of other emotions. She felt disappointment in her father and rejection by her mother. These feelings did not keep her from wanting their love or having love for them.
She turned away from the window, looking back at the room behind her. She remembered sitting on the bed with Lady Eugenia late at night, talking over candlelight. The topic was almost always what it was like to live somewhere other than home.
Lady Eugenia would make a fine wife. Hestia smiled, thinking about David Wake. He was a good match for her. He was as calm as she was fiery. She did not know him well but what she had seen of him had given her a good impression.
She wondered what Leander was doing. He had been dismissed from the property and had vowed to set things right but what was his plan?
A knock on the door drew her attention. She looked at it. “Come in.”
A little maid dressed in black and white poked her head through. “The lady would like to see you before you go, Lady Hestia,” she said.
Hestia had not heard herself called that by any of the servants before. It just showed how quickly news spread through the staff.
“Lady Eugenia?”
“No, the Viscountess of Culross.”
Hestia blinked in confusion but nodded. “Of course, I will go see her. Is she ready for me now?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Thank you.” She went to the door and followed the maid out. The girl turned left down the hall.
“Is she in the parlor?” Hestia asked before the girl could get too far away. The maid turned her head and looked over her shoulder.
“Yes, my lady.”
Hestia took the stairs quickly, her heart beating hard. What if the Viscountess of Culross decided she did not want to terminate Hestia’s employment? Perhaps things could go back to the way they were until she and Leander made a decision about their future together.
She tried not to get her hopes up as she went straight for the parlor door.
She opened it and w
ent through, spotting the Viscountess of Culross in her usual chair, a round embroidery hoop in one hand and the needle and thread in the other. She pushed the needle through the fabric and set the hoop to the side when she saw Hestia.
She got to her feet.
Hestia thought the lady looked very tired and should not have troubled herself to stand. She approached quickly, a look of concern on her face.
“Lady Callow, you need not stand. Please. Rest yourself.”
“I am becoming stronger every day,” the Viscountess of Culross said as she lowered herself to the chair again.
Though she had a bit of color in her cheeks and she looked like she had gained a little weight, Hestia did not think she looked much stronger. She sat in a nearby chair and leaned toward the older woman.
