Regency Rumors (The Sinclair Society Series, #1)

by Swafford, Bethany

  “It is not Mary’s job to dress Eugenia; it is yours!” Mrs. Burnham glared at me with obvious disapproval and annoyance as she cut me off mid-sentence. I had not chosen my response carefully enough. “I made this clear when we discussed your duties. Eugenia, you will do well to remember this yourself!”

  “But Mary knows all sorts of tricks for working with my hair!” Eugenia protested, looking and sounding genuinely distressed. “I thought it simpler if Nelson was able to focus on you, Mama! She is your maid, after all.”

  “Well, I am not the one who must attract a husband, am I? You must have a care about your appearance, my dear. Especially now we will be attending Lady Jersey’s ball!”

  Eugenia flushed that unfortunate red hue once again. “I cannot understand why you will not allow Mary to be my personal lady’s maid if you are so concerned with my appearance!” she fired back, her eyes flashing with anger. That was my question too, and I glanced between them. “You will never be satisfied with the results if Nelson must see to us both!”

  While she had a valid point, the way Eugenia said it would not go over well with her mother. “Eugenia, enough,” Mrs. Burnham ordered. She raised a hand to her head. “It is far too early to be arguing over such trivial matters. I can feel a megrim coming on.”

  The young lady looked as though she wanted to say more about the matter but did not. “Of course, Mama, I’m sorry to have distressed you. Thank you for telling me the good news. I will join you when we make our calls this afternoon.”

  She left her mother’s bedroom. Shaking my head, I made a mental note to speak to her later and turned to my task. It was tedious work to get Mrs. Burnham dressed. First her stays were too tight and then not tight enough. The dress I had brought out for her was not what she wanted and it took me three more tries to find the correct one. When she was finally dressed and with her hair arranged precisely as she wanted, she went down to the hall to leave with Eugenia for a visit to the shops.

  Breathing out a sigh, something I felt I had been doing quite a bit of since I’d stepped foot in the house, I began to straighten the room. I threw open the windows, shivering in the cold wind. Within moments, the room smelled fresher. The wash basin and jug needed cleaning, and a clean towel laid out.

  Then, it was back into the dressing room to continue with the repairs needed to the garments. The careless way the dresses had been put away had a great deal to do with the damage done to the fabric, but I couldn’t understand why Mrs. Burnham had allowed things to reach this state. Surely whichever maid had been handling these duties before would have taken more care than this.

  Or, perhaps it was yet another way to drive me from the position.

  While I did not hate needlework, I would hardly have classified it as a favorite activity of mine. Pink, on the other hand, I honestly did detest, and facing so many different shades of the same color at one time was exceedingly repulsive to me. Of all the things I had imagined I would dislike about the position, nothing compared to this.

  I was entirely occupied with my mending until my growling stomach forced me to take a brief break and go in search of sustenance. Going into the kitchen first, I made my request for a meal, and from there I went to wait where a lady’s maid took her meals: the housekeeper’s room. I was thankful Mrs. Wilder was not there when I arrived, because breakfast had been an awkward meal.

  Several minutes passed, and then the door opened to admit the other housemaid. She had a tray of food in her hands, as though she had expected my request. “Thank you,” I said sincerely. The girl made a noncommittal sound as she set it down. “What is your name?”

  “Molly,” was all she said. There was only indifference in her voice, which seemed a marked improvement on hatred and dislike.

  “Molly, perhaps you could tell me something,” I said, keeping my gaze on the tray of food. I didn’t want her to suspect I was interrogating her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Molly pause, and I knew I had her attention. Good. “Why was Mary overlooked for the position of lady’s maid? Miss Burnham clearly prefers her.”

  In the silence that followed, I lifted my head. Molly was staring, her mouth opened as though my question had shocked her. “Why would you care the reason Mary was ignored?” she demanded once she met my gaze. “You were hired instead of Mary getting promoted. You’re better than the rest of us! What does it matter who didn’t get promoted?”

  “That is for me to be concerned with.” I kept my voice even. Not superior or defensive. Just calm. “And I certainly do not think I am better than anyone. Please. Just answer my question.”

  Maybe it was because I said ‘please’ or maybe it was because she wanted me to know exactly how angry all of the servants were at the injustice of it. “Because Mrs. Burnham wanted a lady’s maid with more sophistication than Mary.”

  “Sophistication? Oh, I see.”

  Molly paused and tilted her head. “Do you? Because the rest of us do not,” she said sharply. She brushed a lock of her hair back that had fallen into her face. “What makes you more sophisticated than Mary? She’s been studying all she can to make advancement.”

  I couldn’t resist a wry smile and shook my head. How to explain the small details a lady’s maid needs; the understanding of French, the intricacies of the latest fashions? “Thank you for your honesty, Molly,” was all I could think to say.

  She eyed me for a moment longer before she left the room, and I was left to eat my toast and drink my tea in peace. The morning had given me a great deal to think about. Eugenia falling for a man who was respectable enough was cause for joy. Then there was the maid, Mary, being passed over because she lacked the sophistication required for the position.

  And I was no closer to clearing my family’s name. If Jonathan had been there, he would have accused me of procrastinating.

  I shook my head at the direction my thoughts had taken. If Jonathan were alive, I wouldn’t even be in this situation. He and my parents would never have let me do anything like this. They would have fought off the rumors another way because they would have been in a position to do so, and I would have been merely a friend to Eugenia, able to lend my support in facing the ton.

  How much more comfortable that would have been!

  What would my family, or anyone else, say if they saw Juliet Sinclair in this situation?

  Mary startled me as she opened the door without looking. “Miss Nelson, Mrs. Burnham has been requesting your assistance. She and Miss Eugenia have returned.”

  Frowning, I stood up. “They’ve returned already?”

  “As a lady’s maid, aren’t you supposed to be aware of these things?” she asked, her tone falsely innocent.

  An unfair question given that the distance between the dressing room and the housekeeper’s room meant I had no way of knowing when Mrs. Burnham walked in. Narrowing my eyes, I met her at the door. “Thank you, Mary.” She was shorter than me, her eyes at my chin, and I was fully aware the move forced her to look up at me. “I’m sure you don’t want to be kept from your normal duties.”

  For the briefest of moments, we stared at each other, and I wasn’t sure what to expect from her. She finally spun on her heel and stalked away. Shaking my head, I hurried up to the dressing room. Even though I knew how she had been passed over, Mary’s behavior made it extremely difficult to feel sorry for her.

  “Nelson! Where were you? A carriage struck a puddle and splattered mud all over my dress. I must change quickly so I may visit Lady Jersey and thank her for the invitation,” Mrs. Burnham exclaimed as soon as I stepped foot into the dressing room. “Perhaps she will solve the mystery of who petitioned her on our behalf. Come, quickly!”

  “I thought you had surmised Mr. Landon was responsible for that.”

  Mrs. Burnham huffed. “Now that I’ve had time to consider it, I’ve decided Eugenia was correct,” she said, not giving me any help as I pulled the muddied gown off her. “Though it would have been a romantic gesture, Landon is far too honorable to have
done such a thing without a formal engagement being settled upon. So, I must solve the mystery on my own, and Lady Jersey is right where I must begin.”

  “I am certain you will be successful,” I said, less than truthfully. From everything I had heard, Lady Jersey was not one to take questioning very well. The Almack’s patroness was fond of jests, and I was reasonably sure she would tell Mrs. Burnham nothing.

  “You are a treasure, Julie.” My employer sighed as I buttoned up her clean walking dress. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  I couldn’t keep from flinching. Her abrupt mood swings were hard to adjust to. And she was back to calling me ‘Julie’ again. But it was fine. I would become accustomed to it.

  ON MY THIRD DAY IN the house, Mrs. Burnham instructed me to go out and purchase ribbons to update a few of her gowns as she wanted to look her best at the upcoming social gatherings. Before I departed, I stood in front of her wardrobe and couldn’t help but shake my head at the waste of it all.

  If my employer simply ordered me to remove the adornments that already cluttered her gowns, there would be plenty of items I could use to refresh the look of them all with hardly any cost. It would have been the economic decision; however, it was not to be.

  Sighing, I took note of the colors that would complement that many shades of pink, as the specifics had been left to my discretion. I knew I would never be able to convince her of my logic, at least not at this point, so what was the point of wasting my breath? At least, I now had a reason to leave the house for a short time.

  Even though it was another gray, rainy day, I was a bit excited. It had been less than a week since I had entered the house, but I loathed the feeling of being trapped inside. I was accustomed to being allowed to come and go, in the company of the requisite maid for propriety, as I pleased. Having to stay within four walls? Not exactly the most desirable situation for me to be in, nevermind I had put myself there.

  It took only a few moments to slip on my pale gray pelisse and tie my straw bonnet beneath my chin. I secured my reticule to my wrist. Only when I turned to leave did a rush of nerves hit.

  I had never gone anywhere alone in London.

  I was working up my courage to take my first step when there was a light tap on my door. Breathing out, feeling somewhat relieved at having my departure pushed back even slightly, I pulled it open. “Miss Graham,” I said, not surprised to see her standing there. That she was dressed to walk out, though, did give me pause. “How are you today? Are you on your way out?”

  “As you appear not to have a concern for propriety at all, I would be remiss in my duties if I did not at least attempt to save you from yourself,” she responded, her tone prim and proper to the extreme. Then, she smiled, showing she wasn’t truly upset. Or I hoped that’s what she meant to convey. “And I have been instructed to direct you to the correct shop for the items you need.”

  A relieved laugh escaped me. “I will be very glad of your company, Miss Graham,” I admitted. “And you caught me just in time. I was about to leave.”

  With my former governess at my side, I left through the servants’ entrance. None of the other servants were in sight, though I heard talking coming from the kitchen area. It seemed as though the hostility had abated, which was a relief. Still, it was clear I was not welcome in the house. The rain had turned to drizzle as we set off down the pavement. Several people, noble and servant, were also taking advantage of the break in the weather.

  “How goes your quest, Juliet?”

  Glancing over at Miss Graham, I raised my eyebrows. “Quest?” I repeated, highly amused by the term. “You make me sound like one of those knights of old I would read about as a child.”

  “Quest was the kindest word I could think of. What I was truly thinking...should not be spoken by a lady of any breeding.”

  I laughed outright. Verbally sparring with Miss Graham had always been a favorite pastime for me, though she would always accuse me of impertinence and scold me for being argumentative. “You are referring, of course, to my idiotic, ill-advised, and headstrong decisions in life?” I asked, my tone teasing. She gave me a sharp look that informed me my levity was not appreciated at this point. “I honestly have not had the opportunity to learn anything. Although...”

  Remembering Mr. Harper’s odd behavior on my first night in the house caused my voice to trail away. Should I reveal what he had done? I hadn’t seen him since then, so did I have cause for concern?

  “Although what?” Miss Graham asked a note of impatience in her voice.

  I decided honesty was the best course of action. “I was not aware Mr. Oswyn Harper had been staying with the Burnhams. It gave me a start when I saw him. You remember him, don’t you? He came to stay with Jonathan one summer, about eight years ago. I crossed paths with him when I was learning my way around the bedrooms.”

  There was silence from my companion, so I glanced over. Miss Graham had a puzzled, almost outright confused, expression on her face. “Mr. Harper?” she repeated slowly. “Around the bedrooms?”

  “Yes,” I said, just as slowly as she had spoken. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Mr. Harper hasn’t stayed with the Burnhams for as long as I’ve been with them, and there are no guests in the house at all.”

  My steps faltered, and I reached out to grab her arm. “I saw him go into the Blue Room,” I said, keeping my voice low. “And then he went into Mr. Burnham’s room. He told me he was retrieving a document of some kind.”

  Pursing her lips, Miss Graham resumed walking, pulling free of my grasp. Realizing I was the recipient of strange looks, I quickly caught up with her. “You understand my concern? Do I have reason to worry?”

  “He could not possibly have a valid reason to be up there,” she admitted, frowning thoughtfully. “Mr. Harper assists Mr. Burnham with his papers, and it’s true he is often at dinner with the family. He has never needed to stay overnight. And he has not dined with them in the past week.”

  So, though she wouldn’t come out and say it, I did have reason to worry. “What do you think it means?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Silence fell between us as we walked. That Miss Graham was concerned made my own disquiet grow. And though there had been many times, as my governess, when she’d admitted to not knowing something, I’d always considered her one of the smartest persons of my acquaintance.

  What had Mr. Harper been doing in the house?

  “What am I to do now?” Miss Graham wondered aloud. “I feel I must tell someone, but who would believe me? All Mr. Harper would have to do is say he was not there. And yet to do nothing...”

  I nodded in understanding. “Perhaps if we were to keep an eye on the situation and see if it happens again,” I suggested. “Or perhaps mention it to Mr. Burnham’s valet, Bridge. He was there. In the room, I mean. I saw him go in right before Mr. Harper did.”

  To my surprise, that bit of information made Miss Graham visibly relax. “Then, there must be a logical explanation for his actions. I understand why you would be suspicious, Juliet, however, Mr. Bridge would never allow an intruder into his domain. As he did not raise a cry at Mr. Harper’s entrance, we must assume it was an arranged meeting and all is well.”

  “An odd meeting place. Even if Bridge did arrange such a meeting, why would he do so in Mr. Burnham’s chambers?”

  “Honestly, Juliet, you are overly suspicious. I will not have you casting aspersions on a man innocent of any wrongdoing!”

  Her outburst took me by surprise, and I stared at her. Her cheeks were flushed, and a tiny suspicion snuck into my mind. “Miss Graham? Do you perchance have a fondness for Mr. Burnham’s valet?” I asked in astonishment.

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” she protested, far too quickly. She made a gesture towards the nearest shop window. “Here. Mrs. Burnham always purchases her ribbons here. She feels the quality is far superior to other establishments.”

  And with that, she chan
ged the subject altogether. In doing so, she solidified my suspicion into something as good as fact in my mind. After so many years a spinster and governess, Miss Graham was smitten with a man. A valet, of all people.

  As I followed her into the shop, I wasn’t sure whether to be happy for her or exceedingly disappointed. I was fond of Miss Graham, and I knew she was worthy of a good man’s attention. But a valet? She was a thousand times better than a man like that.

  If Miss Graham was made happy by the man, though, I would find some way to be happy for her. Of course, I hadn’t even given a thought to whether Bridges was even interested in courting her!

  Shaking those thoughts from my head, I turned all of my attention towards selecting the ribbons and feathers I had been tasked with acquiring. I was sure I would inevitably make the wrong choice, but I took care in the items I selected. The quality of the merchandise was, indeed, excellent, and it came with an equally dear price.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Miss Graham make a few selections herself. And she was not one to dress up her gowns at all. That in itself told me a great deal about her feelings. I made a mental note to learn more about Bridges if I had the opportunity.

  What happened next was indeed my fault. I gathered my paper wrapped packages and turned around to remove myself from the clerk who had many customers to tend to. In doing so, I found myself inches from the front of a man’s great coat. One currently being worn by a man.

  “Pardon me, Miss. It’s a bit crowded in here.”

  That voice. I knew that voice.

  Slowly, I lifted my head and recognized the blue eyes that were staring at me in open astonishment. “Juliet—I mean, Miss Sinclair?” he stammered, all confidence vanishing from his voice.

  I swallowed hard, my voice shaking as I said, “Mr. Bladen.”