by Jenn LeBlanc
Ellie pointed him out, and her aunt dropped her punch to a tray and made a beeline, taking her hand and following him. Then as he paused and glanced over his shoulder, she pushed Ellie in his path and stood aside.
When he turned, he stumbled over her. “Pardon me—”
“No, my lord, I’m entirely at fault,” Ellie said, and his eyes narrowed on her.
“Lord Endsleigh, at your service.”
She curtseyed, taking his proffered hand. “Thank you, my lord. I am—” She stopped, glanced at her aunt. “Miss Rigsby.” She smiled. She was afraid to say her full name if he hadn’t quite recognized her yet. She needed to get him alone to have a conversation.
He released her hand and took a step back, his gaze unrelenting, and she thought perhaps all was lost. “Miss Maitland Rigsby?” he asked, and she nodded. His eyes closed, then opened on her once again, and everything she knew, and he knew, about her and about Louisa was there in their depths. “It has been delightful to make your acquaintance.” He motioned to the entry. “However, I was on my way—”
“Why, Lord Endsleigh, I wasn’t aware you’d been made known to my niece,” her aunt said from behind him. He stiffened. Caught. Thank goodness for meddling matrons.
“We had not previously been introduced, no. We managed well enough after I tripped over her,” he said. “She’s a delightful young lady. You should be proud.” His tenor was slipping; it was obvious how hard he was attempting to maintain his politesse. Ellie stared at her aunt, pursing her lips and widening her eyes in request.
“Perhaps a dance? Miss Rigsby is quite popular this evening, but I’m sure she has one dance available…for you.”
Ellie celebrated inside, deep deep inside. Her aunt was a master.
He nodded stiffly and when the music shifted, without a word, he took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Her aunt gave her a wink as she passed and headed back to her abandoned punch.
Endsleigh swept her around the ballroom, his attention clearly on something other than her.
“Where is Louisa?” she asked without preamble. She could only keep him here for so long and didn’t want to lose this opportunity.
“Maitland, I cannot… You promised.”
“I know I did. I know I promised. But I cannot do this, I cannot. I will not. I cannot marry some doldrum and pretend I didn’t hold everything I ever wanted in my hands and allow it to slip away.” His gaze slid over her head once again to the doors to the gardens, and she wondered who he was pining for. “Endsleigh.”
“Call me Ender,” he said. “If we’re to be involved, you may as well call me Ender.”
“What do you mean?”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Louisa is here, in London. She’s been a ladies maid for a…friend of mine for the past three years.”
“She’s here?” Ellie choked on the words, and his arm at her back tightened when she stumbled. It was more than she could hope for. She darted her gaze around the room, searching for the deepest black of her hair, only realizing she’d stopped dancing, in the middle of the dance floor, when another couple brushed a bit too close and Ender pulled her back against himself, moving almost without her cooperation.
“Yes, Maitland. Please mind the steps before you make a scene.” His tone was gentle and it shocked her. She found her footing, the dance continuing to little notice. “She is here, in London. Not here tonight. She’s now a ladies maid, no longer a lady. The woman she works for has come out tonight, in fact.”
“That’s why you’re here. You’re here for her.”
“I’m not. She’s betrothed to another. She’s just a friend.” He sounded rather put out for that all to be true, but Ellie allowed him his maunder. “Louisa is not here tonight.” His attention came back to her, and she felt the weight of it like a heavy blanket.
“I see. How can I find her?”
“You shouldn’t, Maitland. The both of you are still in some very real danger from her father, do you not understand that? Both of you have been safe for three years now. Do you truly—”
“Yes. And you’re pining for a woman betrothed to another—unless I’ve misunderstood, and I don’t believe I have. Now. What I understand is that I’ve secreted away my pin money for the last three years, and it’s enough to buy a small cottage far from London. I understand that I cannot live without Louisa. I understand that this is my one chance for happiness and I understand that it may be hers as well. And I further understand that you know exactly where she is.”
Hugh inspected her. “What kind of pin money does your father give you?”
"Enough for dresses and carriages and books and needlepoint and horses and…whatnot. Enough that I simply had my dresses freshened up instead of getting new dresses. Enough that I undid my old needlepoint and redid it. Enough that I can steal Louisa away from London, from being a maid. Enough.”
“Please don’t do anything rash,” he said. “Please be cautious as you go about this. You can’t understand the danger if you think it this simple. You cannot steal Louisa away from Amelia. It won’t work. I cannot allow you to crash into her life and turn it inside out—”
“And who are you to keep us apart? It sounds as though you care more about that girl than the both of us.”
“I won’t argue that point, but you must know that my concern is for everyone. If Louisa was to up and disappear…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but she understood the implications. There was too much at stake and for them to be gone for good without causing a ruckus. It would have to be done with care.
“I see. But Ender, I must see her. Please. You go to her. You obviously have access. Go see her and then…then tell her to meet me.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. I don’t exactly have—”
“I’ll figure it out. I’ll send word. Do not let your mother read my invitations. No matter how she reads them, she’ll not understand, and it will cause a whole other mess that none of us need right now.”
“Oh…all right.” A warmth spread through Ellie’s limbs at the very idea of seeing Louisa again. She would not let her go this time.
“Can you manage that?”
“Can I? Oh, yes. I can manage,” she replied, her breath stilled in her chest at the possibility of Louisa.
“Fine, then. I’ll send word. Or I won’t and we’ll be done with this, and this time you’ll not track me down again.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Ender.”
“Ender, thank you, Ender.”
The music stopped, and he bowed over her hand then disappeared into the crowd without a second glance. As she watched him walk away, she saw the woman again, with the red hair, but this time she was on the hand of another gentleman, a man who was taller than any she’d ever met and had a countenance of power that sent a shudder across her shoulders. The woman was searching where Hugh had gone, and the man was staring at her.
“Stop staring at Castleberry. You don’t want to draw his attention. Regardless, he’s contracted to marry that girl already,” her aunt said, startling her from her gazing.
“Oh I was… I thought maybe she knew Baron Endsleigh.”
“She does. The three of them have bordering estates on the coast. They grew up together, but I believe there’s been a falling out since Castleberry is to marry Lady Amelia. The ton is abuzz… Haven’t you paid the least bit of attention?”
“Ah, yes, of course,” she replied. Then she wrapped her arm around her aunt’s. “I think I’m ready for bed. Are you tired?”
“We only just arrived!” she argued.
“Yes, but I’ve done exactly what I came to. It’s better to leave early and leave them wondering, yes?”
“I suppose,” her aunt said with enough of a sideways glance to put Ellie in her place.
Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes from Amelia as she and Lady Rigsby walked from the ballroom—stunning as she was—but her excitement at finding Louisa far outweighed any interest she had in
society and its rumors.
She stopped as she watched Amelia and Castleberry walk the room. Louisa is with her…she’s Amelia’s ladies maid. That was where she’d been all this time and why she was back now, but she wasn’t sure where the London residence was. The Pembroke title didn’t have a male heir and was therefore not one of those studied by those of interest.
Ender hadn’t outright said it but it made perfect sense, and she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t put it together until now. She knew where Louisa was. Her skin tightened and she tried to calm, not run from the ballroom and cause a scene. She couldn’t possibly change her mind now and stalk Lady Amelia. Her aunt would have her head.
“Where does Lady Amelia live? If she’s the belle this year, shouldn’t I invite her to tea?”
Her aunt glared at her suspiciously, and Ellie did her best to maintain her poise. She wasn’t sure she was doing a good enough job, by her aunt’s stare.
“You haven’t had interest in this game for three years. What’s got you?”
“I’m ready, aunt. I’m simply ready to begin my life.”
Louisa
The thought of returning to London had scared Louisa. The very mention of it over the last three years had sent strings of fear through her blood. She always knew she’d have to return; it would be a requirement of her position. But the sheer terror—the unadulterated force of that fear that quaked her very insides—had not lessened with time as she’d hoped it would. Hope, it seemed, was all it was, all it would ever be, for here she was and every step she took felt like falling through the very ground beneath her feet, only to be caught up and thrown again. At any moment she expected her father to burst through the door and toss her like a rag doll once more.
Louisa watched from the upper windows as Amelia’s carriage pulled up in front of Pembroke House. She knew this night would be difficult, that this night would either make or break her mistress. Amelia stepped from the carriage and shook her skirts straight. She was distraught as she walked briskly into the house, and Louisa knew tonight had not gone well.
How had it come to this? A mere six years past, Louisa had been the belle of the ball. A mere three years past, she’d stood in the ballroom and watched her world change with the tilt of one woman’s chin. She was a lady no longer, now a lady’s maid, and Amelia was her lady.
Louisa sat on the edge of her bed. She’d give Amelia a few minutes to gather herself before she’d see to her. That way, Amelia wouldn’t fall apart— at least that was what Louisa hoped. Louisa had spent years attempting to help Amelia be stronger, braver.
Hugh was right; Amelia was different. She obsessed about things and she fixated on other things. She had a difficult experience most of the time, and Louisa really only saw Amelia calm when she was with Hugh. It was lovely to see, the two of them together. There was an intimacy borne of years of understanding and friendship that left much to be jealous of. It was almost like Amelia was locked in there somewhere and Hugh helped her come out. Louisa had learned a lot from watching them together, and she was able to help Ameila when she had an episode to a certain extent now too, but not like Hugh. Never like Hugh.
Louisa couldn’t imagine being like Amelia and managing a true society ball at the height of the season. Louisa’s heart wrenched for her as she closed her eyes and thought about the night her own life had been set on an entirely different path. The night she would stray from the path of society darling to something altogether different.
And yet— And yet…
She wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Those moments with Ellie would always be the most treasured moments of her life, and she wouldn’t give them up for anything. She’d told Hugh long ago she didn’t want to know anything about her; she wanted to assume she was happy, and unless something horrid happened, it was better she not hear a word. It all hurt much too much and not knowing had worked for a time, but returning to London—
“Amelia!” The shriek lifted through the manor to Louisa’s room and chilled her to the bone before she made it to her feet. She’d been sitting here daydreaming for too long, and Amelia’s mother had returned.
Louisa ran. She had to intercept her. She couldn’t let her near Amelia, not right now while Amelia was upset, because if Hugh was the key, her mother was the lock.
Damn, damn, damn.
Louisa vaulted down the upper stair with her skirts held high. That anyone would be able to see her drawers wasn’t even a consideration in her hurry to get to Amelia first. It was a good thing her rooms were closer than the entry, but that woman was spry. She’d snuck up on Louisa countless times like a wraith. Louisa jumped the rail when she was within ten stairs of the upper landing then dropped her skirts as she bolted down the hallway, skidding around the corner to Amelia’s room, all the while listening for that woman’s horrid shrieking voice.
“Amelia!”
There. Louisa slipped to a halt, her hand shooting out to the wall to steady herself. Lady Pembroke had just made the upper landing. Louisa took a deep breath, attempting to still her racing heart. She patted her hair and tucked it back into her mobcap, straightening her apron across her chest and skirt and turning back toward the landing. “Your Grace,” she said as she met her in the hall. “How lovely to see you. I wasn’t expecting you so soon. Amelia said the ball was wonderful and she was a success.” Louisa knew she could pull this off when Lady Pembroke stopped and assessed her, her hand going to the pearl buttons on the high neck of her dress.
“Did she.” It wasn’t exactly posed as a question, so Louisa knew she would need to press harder.
“Oh, she said the Duke was there, and they had a grand time. She sai—”
“The Duke?”
“Yes. The Castleberry, I assume?” Please, oh please let him have been there.
“She mentioned that?”
“Yes, ma’am. She was looking forward to seeing him again. She’s resting, exhausted I’m afraid.”
“I expect to see her at breakfast, Louisa. No excuses. I want a full report. She should have known to wait for my return. You should have known to wait.”
“I beg pardon, ma’am, I assumed that since the evening had been successful, it wasn’t necessary. I am terribly sorry.” Louisa curtseyed and bowed her head and hoped.
“It’s always necessary. Keep that in mind.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Louisa spoke to floor; she didn’t think she could look at the woman with a bland eye. She waited. When Louisa saw the woman’s skirts swirl around her feet and disappear down the corridor, Louisa straightened, took a genuine breath, and turned for Amelia’s room. She followed the long hallways and turns and finally arrived. “Your mother is the very devil’s undergarments!” she grumbled as she burst into the room. Louisa was immediately repentant when Amelia’s entire body jerked as though she hadn’t known where she was, and of course she didn’t. She was considering the night, all of it, in detail. Damn. She shouldn’t let her mother get to her like that.
“Louisa, dearest, my mother is as she is, as you should be aware by now.”
“Promise me you’ll not leave me to her when you’re well and married. Please, take me with you,” she said.
Amelia giggled and stood, and Louisa started to pull at her trappings, efficiently removing in a mere moment what had taken nearly an hour to place earlier that evening. “I would never do such a thing as leave you, you know that,” Amelia said, her voice halting as Louisa pulled the corset strings loose. She’d been with Amelia all this time. Louisa had spent almost every day and every waking moment in Amelia’s presence…she thought she might now know Amelia almost as well as Hugh. Not quite as well, but close. So Louisa could help Amelia manage her feelings, and that was often enough. Unless her mother got to her.
Louisa shook her head again. “Viper, she is. You’d think the world was at an end simply because you left the ball.”
“Ah… Is my mother home, or did she send a footman to check on me?”
Amelia was calm at the m
oment, so Louisa knew she’d be able to play with her a bit. She twisted her face into a ridiculous expression. “Send a footman?” Louisa squealed. “Send a footman! Why, the very— And leave the ball with only three liveried men to accompany the coach? You cannot be serious, Amelia. The very idea. I mean, really.” She gave her a grand smile and put her hands on her hips.
Amelia collapsed back in her chair with a grin. “Goodness me, the coachman and outriders must be dizzy from circling London. Mother must have been waiting for their return.”
“Hush now,” Louisa said, leaning in. “She’ll hear you, and then where will we be? In the stocks in the grand courtyard, that’s where.” Louisa lifted the skirt she’d just removed from Amelia to the light, poking her finger through a hole Amelia must have made while fidgeting, as she was wont to do.
“Louisa, the stocks were removed to the attics decades ago,” Amelia said.
Louisa tossed the dress aside, knowing that calling attention to the damage was unhelpful. “Oh, my lady, don’t think for a minute that she’ll not pull them out simply for this transgression. Truly, you sound like a schoolgirl in this fit of giggles. She’ll think you’ve become much too far gone and have you off to Bedlam by morning.”
Amelia calmed then, rather suddenly, and Louisa knew she’d overstepped.
“Oh there, milady, I’ve gone too far. I always do. Come, come, never fear. If she had off with you, I’d be at your side to take the brunt of it.” She saw Amelia try to smile, and Louisa let out the breath she’d held. “All right now, up with you. Here’s a great soft bed calling to you.”
“Louisa, don’t leave me,” Amelia said when she leaned in to hug her.
“Don’t start now, milady. You know no good will come of this. Just simply take me with you. I’ll never leave.” God, what would she do if she lost this girl?
Amelia smiled and nodded, then crawled into the bed. Louisa fussed with the sheets and the counterpane, tucking her in nice and tight, and Amelia relaxed. Louisa felt it in her muscles as they melted under her fingers like warming butter. “I will,” Amelia said.
