Regency Rumors (The Sinclair Society Series, #1)

by Swafford, Bethany

  Chapter Six

  Henry. The man I’d once thought to marry. He hadn’t changed at all in the five years since I’d last seen him, at least not at first glance. He was still taller and slimmer than most men. There were lines around his eyes that I didn’t remember being there before, but I tried not to allow myself a closer look.

  Why was he in a shop like this?

  It took me a second to realize that he’d just asked me the same thing and for a moment, my mind was completely blank. “What else does a young woman do in a shop?” I managed to say, holding up the small packages in my hands. I, at least, had a plausible excuse for being there, if it wasn’t exactly the most truthful. “I purchased ribbons.”

  “Who is with you?” Mr. Bladen sent a glance around the small shop. I saw his eyes widen and knew he had seen her. “Can that be Miss Graham?”

  “Yes, it is.” I was relieved he had answered his own question. “She had purchases of her own to make, and I am waiting for her to complete them.”

  “She stayed with you, then. I am glad you had some consistency in your life after your parents... Well, I feared she might have been sent off when your uncle came for you.”

  My fingers tightened around the packages. That was precisely what had happened. How dare he? After leaving and staying away for five years with not a word of explanation, now he tries to tell me he was happy there had been ‘consistency’ in my life? No. He wasn’t going to lie to me, and even if he wasn’t lying—I didn’t want to hear it. Not from him. Not after so long. “What are you doing here?”

  His eyes returned to me, and there was a startled expression on his face. He’d never heard me speak so sharply before. His cheeks flushed red. “Ah, yes. Well, um—” He cleared his throat, and I felt a wicked stab of amusement at his embarrassment. “It’s awkward, but I promised Margaret I would pick up some special lace she had ordered.”

  I didn’t believe a word he’d said. How could I have expected an honest answer from him? I should have known better than to have even asked. Margaret was his older and married sister. Why would he play errand boy for her? As kind as he’d been when I knew him—well, when I thought I’d known him—he had never shown any inclination to allow anyone to order him around, especially not for something so trivial such as to pick up ribbons.

  “She could not have it delivered? Most women do.”

  A moment of pure panic showed on his face at my question. “She didn’t tell me these things can be delivered! She said it was the height of importance for me to bring them to her today! When I see her again—”

  He broke off before he finished his threat. Whether he was telling the truth or not, I didn’t— couldn’t—feel any sympathy for him. I turned to find Miss Graham. Her back was to me, so she had not yet seen Mr. Bladen standing with me. I couldn’t leave without her but was reluctant to cut short her purchases.

  “You have been well, then, Miss Sinclair?” Mr. Bladen asked after clearing his throat.

  Oh, no. We were not going to begin an awkward conversation of how our respective lives had been for the past five years, and I was in no mood for the politeness required between ‘Miss Sinclair’ and ‘Mr. Bladen’ when once we had been so close. “I must return to Miss Graham. She is sure to have finished by now,” I said, ignoring the question. “Good day, Mr. Bladen.”

  He reached out a hand, stopping short of actually touching my arm. “Miss Sinclair, please,” he said softly. On the verge of walking away, I paused, hearing a note of pleading in his voice that hadn’t been there before. “I-I have missed your company. I hope you know that.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Why would he say such a thing here? A small part of my heart wanted, desperately, to believe him. He’d left so abruptly that I had expected something terrible had happened in his family. Just like it had with mine. I’d waited in vain for a letter or message. Anything to explain why he’d left when I had needed him the most.

  Remembering that time made my chin come up. “I’m afraid I know nothing of the kind, Mr. Bladen,” I said, startled at how cold my voice came out. When he took a step back, dropping his hand, I could see he was shocked too. “Good day.”

  This time, when I turned away, he did not impede me. Miss Graham had finally noticed us. “It’s time to return, Miss Graham,” I said to her, catching her arm in mine. I practically pulled her from the shop.

  “Juliet, was that—” She glanced over her shoulder.

  “Yes, it was.” I resisted the urge to look back. I was certain he would be there, watching me walk away, and if he wasn’t...well, I don’t think my heart would be able to stand the pain of that. Again. “He was picking up ribbons for his sister.”

  “Mrs. Richards?” Miss Graham asked in surprise. “She sent her brother for...ribbons? Why wouldn’t they have simply been delivered to her house? Or her maid sent to collect them?”

  “That is a question we will never have answered.” I kept my gaze firmly forward. I was satisfied with that. Really.

  “Juliet, are you well?”

  “Yes, of course. We should get back before some other person recognizes who I really am.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noted Miss Graham’s face was one of skepticism. She didn’t believe me any more than I believed myself. But she didn’t say anything, which I was grateful for as I didn’t want to talk about it.

  RETURNING TO THE BURNHAMS’ house, Miss Graham and I went our separate ways: she to discover what mischief her charges had wrought while she was away, and I to the dressing room. I stored the ribbons and lace in the basket at the bottom of the wardrobe. With all the repairs I already had to make, I wasn’t too eager to begin refreshing the others.

  I selected a gown for the evening and then waited for Mrs. Burnham to return. I certainly had plenty to occupy my mind.

  Two faces from my past in less than a week. One, my brother’s closest friend from school and the other, the man I once thought I would marry. One knew me, and the other hadn’t recognized my face. They both had one thing common: I had met them in places they had no real reason to be. I shook my head as I thought of it.

  And, I still had no idea what either of them had been up to. What did it all mean?

  Mrs. Burnham demanded all of my attention when she came sweeping into the room not long after I had set everything out. The entire time I curled her hair, she complained about how no one seemed to know who had convinced Lady Jersey to send the tickets, and no one appreciated how much she did for her daughter. Somehow, I managed to make the appropriate sounds of commiseration.

  She barely noticed the dress I helped her into and said nothing about the ribbons she’d sent me to acquire. In the end, she breezed out of the room with the simple order for me to see to Eugenia right away.

  Breathing out a sigh, I glanced around at the room I would have to straighten up at some point. Leaving it in disarray, even for a short time, did not sit well with me but I fought down the impulse to take the few moments right then. If I had, I would not have been able to give much time to Eugenia.

  I slipped into the young lady’s room and was not at all surprised to find Mary already there. She heard me first and spun around, inadvertently tugging on Eugenia’s hair. The young woman yelped in pain.

  “A lady’s maid keeps her attention on her work, and avoids causing her mistress discomfort,” I said, my tone chiding as I moved forward. Mary scowled at me, her eyes glaring as I came closer. “Turn back around, Mary, if you’re going to continue. Otherwise, please release Miss Burnham’s hair before you pull it from her head.”

  I watched her annoyance fade into shock. Then I made a spinning motion with my finger, prompting her to continue with her task. After one more moment, and just when I thought I would have to take over, Mary turned and continued arranging Eugenia’s hair into a Grecian style so prevalent in society. Eugenia quietly watched our exchange in the mirror, not saying a word.

  I was reasonably sure they had been talking right before I’d c
ome in, but now there was silence in the room. If I dropped a pin, it would sound as loud as a rumble of thunder.

  As I observed Mary at work, I noticed her hands were trembling. For all her blustering and annoyance, she was genuinely nervous by my presence there. I came to a quick decision. “Well done, Mary. Perhaps we will make a lady’s maid out of you yet. Good evening, Miss Burnham.”

  Two pairs of eyes stared at me in the mirror as I turned and left the room. Eugenia did not need two of us there, and I had a dressing room to put right.

  In all honesty, I was immensely relieved to find Mary wanted the position. There were a few rough spots to be smoothed out, but she would make an excellent replacement when I could finally escape from the household. And, as I didn’t expect to be free any time soon, perhaps there would be time to correct Mary’s technique and make her ready to advance to the position she desired.

  When I opened the dressing room door and found it to be even worse condition than I had left it, I couldn’t find the strength to be upset. I heaved a sigh and set to work picking up the scattered gowns. At least I knew Mary wasn’t behind it, which narrowed the suspects down by one, and I had to give the culprit credit for being consistent.

  I couldn’t help but be grateful there was no damage done to the gowns. I even decided a couple of the dresses could do with a trip to the laundry. Once I had the room once again straightened to my standards, I sorted through the soiled garments.

  Some I placed in a smaller basket to take with me, and the others I set aside to be handed to the laundress. I should have washed the undergarments instead of going out for the ribbons, but truthfully, it was one of the tasks I knew I would put aside as long as possible. I had a good idea what the soap and water would do to my hands.

  “Why didn’t you take over?”

  My fatigue had caught up with me by then, so Mary’s voice startled me. I turned my head to see her in the doorway. There was a genuinely concerned look on her face. “Did you want me to?”

  She shook her head. “Of course not. But, why didn’t you?”

  “Mary, I know how important it is for girls like you to have the chance to advance.” I was unable to keep the tiredness from my voice. “I think you’ll make an excellent lady’s maid for Miss Burnham when she marries and sets up a household of her own. I’m to look after her needs second to her mother. You can put her first right now, and she won’t forget that.”

  Mary frowned. “Why should you care whether I am promoted or not?”

  I hesitated, not knowing what to say. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said with a sigh. Her frown became deeper, and she opened her mouth to say more. I held my hand up to stop her. “Believe me when I say this, though, all I wish to see is Miss Burnham established happily.”

  To my surprise, Mary stepped into the room and knelt down next to me. “I’ll have these for you in the morning, Miss Nelson,” she said, taking the basket of undergarments from my hands.

  “Why would you do that?”

  Her cheeks flushed red. “Because of all the lady’s maids who have come through here, I think you want to help Miss Eugenia,” she said, looking and sounding uncomfortable. “They would never let me look after her, and she was neglected.”

  “You’re very fond of Miss Burnham, aren’t you?”

  She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “We’re the same age, and I came here when I was seven to be trained as a maid. We practically grew up together in this house.”

  I nodded, understanding the bond between them. It sometimes happened, though in my home, all of the maids had been much older than me and the housekeeper kept them strictly respectful at all times. “Then, maybe you can tell me something. How attached is Miss Eugenia to this Gerard Landon?”

  Instantly, Mary’s face lost all openness, and she shook her head. “Good night, Miss Nelson,” she said stiffly. She stood up and left the room.

  I was right back where I had started, but Mary’s reaction was answer enough. My instinct was right. Eugenia was more than slightly interested in the man. Sighing, I picked myself off the floor. If Eugenia wanted Landon as her future husband, I would need to come up with a strategy for how to help her accomplish that.

  For the first time, I began to feel I had taken too much on myself. I wanted to protect my family name. I wanted to help Eugenia. I wanted to find some sense of purpose and happiness in my life.

  But how to accomplish all of that?

  With nothing left to do, and no desire to return to my needlework just yet, I took myself off to the library. The room was smaller than I remembered, and though it was well-maintained, I had the feeling it was seldom used. I scanned the titles contained on the shelf and found nothing of interest. I returned to my room, and the volume I had brought with me.

  This was one of the downsides for a lady’s maid. I could not sleep until I had put my mistress to bed for the night. It took all of my willpower to remain awake until the family returned some time past midnight.

  Mrs. Burnham was tired and in an unpleasant mood when I helped her undress. She had nothing but complaints about how the dinner party had been, and everything I did resulted in angry outbursts. It was with relief I left her and went to Eugenia’s room. Mary was, surprisingly, nowhere in sight, and Eugenia sat at her dressing table.

  There seemed to be a bleak look in her eyes when I took the brush from her hand. “Is there something wrong, Miss Burnham?” I asked as I began brushing her hair. I grimaced as the bristles became tangled. Her hair was in sore need of some change. Something to make it more manageable.

  “My mother expects so much of me,” Eugenia said, seeming not to notice I was tugging on her hair in what had to be a painful manner. “And she keeps telling everyone I will make a brilliant match. And all of them give me such calculating looks! The kind that says I am not pretty enough to even think I will make a good marriage!”

  “What do appearances have to do with it?” I asked calmly. How well I remembered feeling much the same when I was faced with the critical looks from the ton. “Do you believe that to be the only way to win a husband?”

  “I know I will never be a diamond of the first water, like Mama hopes,” Eugenia said, ignoring my questions. “I’m not charming, or witty, or even flirtatious!”

  Setting aside the brush, I began to separate her hair into three equal sections. “Then, you will be certain the man who does offer for you does so for you, and not for your beauty or wealth.” I started braiding her thick and heavy hair. There had to be something I could do to make it easier to work with!

  “Why must I even go to the parties, and dinners and balls?” Eugenia asked, her tone petulant. “All the other girls do is flirt with any eligible man who comes near, and I can only speak to the people I have been introduced to. I would much rather spend my time with Miss Graham and Mary.”

  Her maid and her governess? Those were the only two she considered her friends? Oh, dear. “You must never let your mother hear you say such a thing, you know. It would give her an attack of the nerves, I am sure.”

  She laughed, her eyes losing the bleakness I’d seen in the mirror. “Yes, I suppose it would,” she said. She heaved a sigh. “Oh, why must growing up be so difficult? I shudder to think of how I longed to be old enough for a London season when I was young!”

  Leaning forward, I picked up a ribbon to tie off the braid. “I’m afraid growing up is an unforgivable fact of life.” I rested a comforting hand on her shoulder for a brief moment. “Will there be anything else, Miss Burnham?”

  “No. Good night, Miss Nelson.”

  My evening finally over, I left her chamber. The house was far quieter than I had ever heard before as I made my way to my room. Thankfully, no further mischief had been done there, and I was able to ready myself for bed. I was asleep within moments of laying my head down.

  Chapter Seven

  And it all began again the next morning. Somehow, even though I’d settled into the routine, it became much harder
to rise each morning when Mary knocked on my door. Once I had order restored, there was little I needed to do in the dressing room, which was fortunate because it took longer each day for my mind to become clearer. My steps were slow as I went down to collect the first tray I had to deliver to Eugenia.

  On the first day I had to myself, the cook said nothing when I nearly tripped over a chair leg. She did, however, give me a sympathetic look. When I returned upstairs, it took me several minutes to rouse Eugenia. I suspected she must have lain awake during the night, and she mumbled incomprehensibly when I shook her shoulder. I understood completely, but if I had to face the day, so did she.

  In the end, the mention of chocolate finally convinced her to sit up, and I could leave the room, confident she wouldn’t fall back to sleep. Then I descended to the kitchen, with a quick detour for the morning’s correspondence. I picked up the tray for Mrs. Burnham and started up the stairs again.

  I should have known disaster would strike; I felt only half awake, and what better time for misfortune to come around? My foot caught the edge of the step, and I tumbled forward. The fine china toppled off the tray, which I’d let go of in an attempt to catch myself, and shattered on the steps. My right hand curled around the railing, saving myself from hitting the hard stone steps.

  A cry of pain erupted from my lips as my shoulder jarred upon landing. The sound of tearing fabric accompanied my cry. Well, at least it had woken me completely. I pulled myself upright and groaned as I took in the mess now covering the stairs. Quickly, I snatched up the correspondence that was in danger of being ruined and waved the letters in the air to remove the liquid from the paper. There was the squeak of a door opening below as I knelt to clear the rest of the mess.

  “Are you well, Miss Nelson?”

  My hands stilled at the voice. Mr. Harper. Why was he here at this time of day? Slowly, I twisted around to look at the young man standing at the bottom of the stairs. He had his coat on, as though he’d been on the verge of going out, or Wilder had neglected to take it from him when he’d come in; something that didn’t seem likely.