Regency Rumors (The Sinclair Society Series, #1)

by Swafford, Bethany

  One of the true benefits of being a lady’s maid was that I was not required to wake as early as most in the household. Still, as I made my way to the dressing room, the house was quiet. I thought I caught a glimpse of the second maid, the one whose name was unknown to me, scurrying to complete her duties.

  As I feared, the dressing room was a chaotic mess. Mrs. Burnham had left her gown from the previous evening on the floor, along with the day dress she’d been wearing when I had been in the room. There were three different shawls, and at least five different pairs of gloves laying on the table, not to mention the slippers and boots on the floor.

  Heaving a sigh, I got to work, putting away the two gowns I’d managed to repair the evening before. However much a disaster the room seemed, it was my place to organize and put things away. It was what a lady’s maid was required to do.

  I could only be grateful that my mother had taught me the value of neatness and to respect not only the clothes I had but also those that had to come after me to maintain the room. I could honestly say that, once I was grown, I had never been guilty of leaving a place in such a deplorable state. I would have been in a great deal of trouble with Mama if I ever had. Even worse, I would have disappointed her.

  Disappointing Mama would have broken my heart.

  I curled my fingers around a soft shawl and took a deep breath. I did not need to think about Mama or the life I’d had before. If I did so, I knew I would just sit down and cry. Instead, I forced myself to consider just what I would change to make the dresses more appropriate for my employer.

  That line of thought kept me well entertained because there was so much fashionably wrong with the gowns. And it wasn’t a matter of personal preference. Mrs. Burnham had a taste for frills and feathers. A few of each could set off a gown beautifully, but the quantity that Mrs. Burnham’s dresses had was simply....horrific.

  By the time I had the room and wardrobe in some semblance of order, it was time for me to take Miss Eugenia her tea. Immediately after I would have to deliver the same to Mrs. Burnham.

  I was proud when I arrived in the kitchen without once taking a wrong turn. Thankfully, the tray was ready. I would not have been surprised if the cook had mysteriously ‘forgotten’ that it was needed. Perhaps the woman knew she would be the one in trouble if such a thing occurred.

  Balancing the tray carefully, I returned upstairs and made my way to Eugenia’s room. “Good morning, Miss Burnham,” I said as I entered. She had, as I discovered the evening before, a charming room all to herself and there was not even the slightest shade of pink to be seen.

  The girl in the bed stirred and pushed herself up. “Oh, Nelson, it’s you,” she said, rubbing at her eyes. Was that disappointment I heard in her voice? She reached out to accept the tray. “Good morning.”

  Either she was a light sleeper, or she’d already been awake. I handed her the tray and then strode to the windows. “I hope you slept well,” I said, pulling the curtains open without really looking out. I turned to face her.

  “I did, thank you.” Eugenia leaned back against the bed frame. She flipped her messy braided hair over her shoulder and poured a cup of chocolate. “I was expecting Mary to bring up my breakfast.”

  Had everyone expected the maid to be promoted to the position? Why had she not been?

  “Well, you have me, Miss Burnham, and I hope I don’t disappoint you,” I said with as sincere a smile as I could manage. “I will leave you to eat, and then I will return to help you dress.”

  “You can just send Mary up. I know my mother will require all of your attention.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Of course, Miss Burnham,” I said as politely as I could. “I will let Mary know that you require her.”

  It took all the self-control I could muster to keep from muttering all the way down to the kitchen. The second tray was ready, and I grabbed it. The cook raised an eyebrow but wisely said nothing. On my way up, I collected the correspondence that had arrived for Mrs. Burnham.

  Quite honestly, the quiet in the house was almost familiar, and it calmed me down. I always loved mornings and the serenity that often accompanied them.

  Breathing out a slow sigh, I accepted the fact that Eugenia would naturally want someone she was familiar with to attend to her, and it was unfair to expect her to trust me immediately. She didn’t know me; not as Julie Nelson. It would take time to build trust between us. Fortunately, time was the one thing I had plenty of, and I could make myself patient.

  Mrs. Burnham’s room was dark, and the air smelled stale when I stepped in. “Good morning, ma’am,” I said, forcing a note of cheerfulness into my voice. How well I remembered being pulled from sleep in such a manner not so long ago! “I trust you slept well.”

  “Hmm?” Mrs. Burnham mumbled something unintelligible in response to my greeting. She rolled over and pulled the covers over her head.

  Frowning, I set the tray on the bedside table and pulled out my father’s watch to check the time. It was the hour Mrs. Burnham had specified, but she was not awake. For a moment, I hesitated. Did I continue with my tasks, or should I wait?

  Remembering how often Carter, Aunt Beth’s maid, had insisted on throwing open the curtains and pulling me out of bed at the same time every morning, I headed for the windows. “It’s going to be a beautiful day, ma’am,” I said as I pulled the curtains open. The fact that it was gray and dull outside gave me pause. “Oh.”

  Before I could retract or modify my statement, I heard the door squeak open. Spinning on my heel, I watched Mary pour hot water into the wash basin. She didn’t glance over at me and was quick to leave. Trying to still the tremble in my hands that gave away my nervousness, I marched over to the stand, straightened the towel there, and made sure it was ready for use.

  And then I was left with nothing to do. Mrs. Burnham still hadn’t moved, and I had no notion as to what I was to do next. I would be sure to be in trouble if her tea became cold.

  “Mrs. Burnham!” I said quickly before I lost my nerve. Again, there was no response from the bed. I took a few steps closer. “Mrs. Burnham. A letter has arrived, franked by Lord Jersey.”

  She sat up so fast I jumped back in surprise. “Where?” Her demand bore no hint of sleepiness. “Hand it to me right away! Why did you not say anything earlier?”

  “Here, ma’am,” I responded, picking up the tray from the table where I had left it. I placed it on her lap and gestured to the pile of letters. “I will return to assist you to dress.”

  She made no reply as she broke the seal on the letter from Lady Jersey, and I quickly left the room. “You only have one first day,” I said to myself as I returned to the dressing room next door. I selected a morning gown that I thought would be to Mrs. Burnham’s tastes and laid it out.

  “I have never met anyone who loved one color so much,” I said, running my hand over the pale pink fabric.

  Shaking my head, I hurried out. I hadn’t forgotten Eugenia’s request, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. Fortunately, I met Mary on the stairs. “Miss Burnham has requested that you assist her today.”

  My blunt statement startled her, and she came to a complete stop. “She has?” Mary rubbed the back of her neck even as her eyes brightened. She cleared her throat and forced all emotion off her face. “I will see to her then.”

  I nodded curtly and stepped aside to allow her to go on. I breathed out as soon as I was alone once more, welcoming the brief time I had to compose myself before returning to Mrs. Burnham’s room.

  MRS. BURNHAM WAS SITTING up in her bed. “There you are, Julie,” she said, setting aside her tray. I held back a sigh at the name, knowing there was no chance of escaping it. She waved a sheet of paper in the air. “This is the most fantastic news! We are to attend Lady Jersey’s ball next week!”

  “That is good news.” I picked up the tray, carrying it away from the bed. It looked as though she hadn’t eaten a bite, though the teapot was empty. I set it by the door, to be picked up by one of
the maids, before transferring the other, unopened letters to her bedside. “Miss Burnham will be thrilled when she hears the news, I’m sure.”

  “This is exactly the invitation to propel Eugenia into the right society,” Mrs. Burnham said with a pout. A slight frown crossed her face. “How strange that we suddenly receive an invitation now. Who would have arranged this? Perhaps it was Landon! I knew his intentions towards Eugenia were more serious than he let on!”

  A choked cough left me before I could stop it, but she paid me no attention. Did she honestly believe a gentleman would make such a grand gesture for a girl he must know very little about? The season had begun only a few weeks previous, though it was possible the Burnham had been acquainted with the gentleman before the season began.

  I had guessed that Mrs. Burnham was the kind of woman who desired her daughter to make a stir if they should ever acquire tickets but had never actually made the effort to cultivate an acquaintance with the ladies who ruled over Almack’s, the most exclusive assembly rooms in London.

  It was, perhaps, good for Eugenia’s cause that my mother had been acquainted with several of the patronesses.

  Mr. Gerard Landon was a name known to me. He was a well-respected younger son of a country baron. I’d met him briefly when I spent a short time in London nearly six years ago. He had been well-mannered and polite, and I had been eager to further my acquaintance with him.

  If he were truly interested in pursuing Eugenia, I was delighted for her.

  “Send for Eugenia immediately, Julie,” Mrs. Burnham said, turning her attention on me. “She must learn of her good fortune right away!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said promptly. “Shall we get you dressed first?”

  Mrs. Burnham lifted her head and scowled. “Certainly not. There’s more than enough time before I must be up and about for our callers later on. Fetch Eugenia from the schoolroom this instant, Julie.”

  The schoolroom? Why was Eugenia in the schoolroom? Stepping back, I nodded. “Right away, Madame.” Spinning on my heel, I walked out of the bedroom. I heaved a sigh. I had known that Mrs. Burnham was not of a calm disposition when I had decided to come. I could handle it, though.

  At least, that’s what I kept trying to convince myself.

  As I made my way up to the schoolroom, I took in the house as it was meant to be seen: in the daylight. In general, it seemed to be very tastefully decorated, besides the horrendous pink dressing room. It was the kind of dwelling I would expect any genteel family to spend the London Season in. It was not, as was usually the case, a rented townhouse meant to be inhabited in the spring, but their year-round dwelling.

  I had researched the family beforehand, wanting to know as much as I could before I immersed myself into the household. The family was relatively well off, though not as wealthy as they had been in earlier years. While Mr. Burnham owned land in the North, which he had inherited from his father, the funds he gained from the estate were not enough to afford a townhouse.

  Mrs. Burnham had brought a great deal of money to her marriage, allowing her husband to employ a steward to run his estate while the family lived in London. But the majority of that money had gone into the upkeep of the London house, or at least that’s what the rumor was. Mr. Burnham had some position in the government, but it was unclear what exactly it was.

  All of this I had learned from Aunt Beth, who had been eager enough to tell what she knew. I suspect Aunt Beth thought this background supported her opinion that Mrs. Burnham was an unintelligent being.

  Feeling a bit tired of the whole affair, I walked towards the schoolroom. Even if I hadn’t known where it was, the two voices yelling on the other side of the door in what must have been a competition of some sort would have informed me. I opened the door and slipped inside.

  In the middle of the room, Miss Graham was standing in between two young girls. “This kind of behavior is appalling!” She had a hand on each girl’s shoulder, clearly trying to keep them apart. “Neither of you shall be walking out today.”

  “We will!” the older of the two girls—Calliope, I guessed— declared. There was no mistaking the family resemblance between the Burnham girls. They all had the unfortunate curly brown hair that seemed untamable. “I shall ask Mama, and she will say you are to take us! So there! We will go walking.”

  “No, I will tell Mama!” the second girl exclaimed. Her brown hair was a mess that would have appalled any mother. Well, any mother who cared to have their children looking presentable at all times. “Just because you are oldest, Calliope, doesn’t mean you get to tell Mama everything!”

  Miss Graham looked as though she either wanted to pull her hair out or strangle them both. I knew it was a sentiment that I would share if I were required to be in charge of two such unruly children!

  “Nelson, does Mama want me?”

  I’d been so distracted by the quarreling girls that I had completely missed seeing Eugenia sitting at the window. “Yes, Miss Burnham,” I responded as I found myself under the gaze of everyone in the room. “I believe she has news she wishes to impart.”

  “You’re the new maid?” Calliope asked, her tone incredulous. “But Mary said that you were a horrible, ugly—”

  “My hair is a mess, Nelson,” Daphne interrupted, imperiously. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to know how Calliope would have finished her sentence. Daphne pulled away from Miss Graham and came towards me. Her hair looked as though it had, at some point during the morning, been tied back with a ribbon. I wondered whether it had been Mary’s doing, or if Daphne had made an attempt herself. “You must fix it. Immediately.”

  A deep breath was necessary to remain calm. I could not let her get under my skin. “Miss Daphne, I am not required to fix your hair. I believe you ought to speak to Mary or do so yourself,” I said, meeting her gaze. I was satisfied to see her pause in surprise. Not many people must tell her no. “Miss Burnham, your Mother wished to speak to you as soon as possible.”

  A smile was playing on the oldest Burnham girl’s lips as she watched the interchange. How nice to know I amused her. “Yes. I must not keep Mama waiting,” she said, standing up. “Calliope, Daphne. Listen to Miss Graham and do your schoolwork. You don’t want to be outside today, anyway. It’s far too wet.”

  Both of the younger girls made faces at their older sister’s back as soon as she passed them. I caught Miss Graham’s eye briefly, and she just shook her head. I lifted one shoulder in a shrug as I turned to escape the room, leaving the governess to her two charges. “I’m going to tell mama that you were disrespectful!” Daphne called after me. “Just you wait! You’ll lose your position!”

  A dozen different responses came to my head that would have only made it worse. Instead, I said in a polite tone that had always incited a scold from my mother for being on the brink of rudeness, “Certainly, Miss Daphne. Of course, your mother is free at any time you wish to do so. Shall I inform her that you will be coming to speak to her later on?”

  My words brought a look of complete shock to the girl’s face. Taking a step back, I firmly closed the door behind myself. “You are the strangest lady’s maid I have ever met,” Eugenia said, staring at me when I turned around.

  Somehow, that surprised me. Lady’s maids are supposed to be clever, even if they were to keep quiet until their opinion or observation was asked for. “Your mother was most insistent that you come to her now, Miss Burnham,” I said gently.

  Eyeing me for one more second, Eugenia set off, and I followed a few steps behind her. When we arrived at the correct room, Mrs. Burnham hadn’t moved from her bed, and she still held that one letter in her hands. “Eugenia, all is going according to plan!” she exclaimed, on seeing her eldest daughter. “We have been invited to Lady Jersey’s ball next week!”

  “What?” Eugenia exclaimed, taking a seat at the side of her mother’s bed. I busied myself at the dressing table, acquainting myself with the myriads of bottles that stood there. “Are you certain?”

&nbs
p; “Here, read for yourself,” Mrs. Burnham said, pushing the letter into Eugenia’s hands.

  To my surprise, Eugenia didn’t seem at all pleased as she read the message. “But Mama, who would have done this for us?” she asked when she lifted her head. “We do not know Lady Jersey, and she is not the sort to extend an invitation for no reason at all. I thought you said all of your acquaintances refused to make an introduction.”

  “Isn’t it obvious, my dear? Landon is certainly the one behind it!”

  “Mama, he would never have done such a thing,” Eugenia said in protest, her cheeks bright red. It was not the light blush of youth that could be so charming. It was almost as though she’d been in the sun for too long. “It would mean that we were practically engaged, and we are not! I’ve only conversed with him a few times!”

  “Of course, perhaps you could do better,” Mrs. Burnham remarked, completely ignoring her daughter’s words. She took the letter from Eugenia. “There are a few titled men this season who might be on the lookout for a young wife. Any one of them would make an excellent husband for you if we overlook a few youthful indiscretions. And a first son is always more desirable than a second.”

  “Mama!”

  I glanced between them. Every mother wanted a good match for their daughter, a wealthy one if at all possible. I knew that. Everyone knew it to be true. But this was extreme. My eyes returned to Eugenia’s face, and I studied her expression. She may have protested Landon’s indifference, but I had a feeling that wasn’t what her heart said.

  She looked as though she had already fallen for the man.

  Chapter Five

  “Eugenia, your hair looks terrible! Julie, what were you thinking? This will not do at all!”

  Flinching, I looked closer at the way Eugenia’s hair was arranged. It was simple enough, and I could see no problem with it, beyond the fact it had become more frizzed overnight. “I will see to it immediately,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Miss Burnham requested Mary assist her dressing this morning, therefore I—”