by Locke, Laura
“Oh, Adeline! You do think of such things...”
“Uncle Honorius?” Pauline said, pausing in the door. “Is Mother..?”
“I'm here, dear,” a voice said from the other side of the parlor
Matilda walked in, excited to give their mother the news. She looked about the room and felt sudden panic. With her mother, over by the window on a low seat, was Lord Epworth.
He stood when she entered.
“My lady.”
“Lord Epworth.”
Matilda glanced questioningly at Pauline, who lowered her eyelids and dropped a curtsey.
“Enchanted,” Lord Epworth said, bowing to her and then Pauline. He turned to face Matilda. “My lady. Good to see you this morning.”
“Lord Epworth,” Matilda said again, heart thumping in her chest. She could not say why seeing him here alarmed her so, but it did. She glanced at Pauline, worried, and her sister stepped a little closer.
“I was just looking for our mama,” Pauline said smoothly. “We had to speak with her.”
“Oh?”
“Girls!” Mother said, laughing. “I am certain whatever you have to tell me could either wait, or could be said in front of company?”
Matilda glanced at Pauline, a question and a warning in her face. Pauline nodded fractionally.
“It is of no great matter. It can keep.” Pauline said quickly.
“Oh,” their mother said, her lips pressed into a line. “In which case, perhaps we could send for refreshments? Our guest has need of them, I'm sure. All that riding at this time of the morning, too!”
“On the contrary, my lady,” Lord Epworth said evenly. “I was merely here to tell you of the ball at my estate tonight. I wished to personally invite yourself and, of course, your charming offspring,” he said, smiling readily at Matilda and then bowing to Pauline again.
Matilda felt something inside her shrivel.
“Oh! Now that is courteous,” mother said warmly. “You are a gentleman,” she beamed at him with approval in every line of her strong face. “Most would simply leave an invitation with our housekeeper. How thoughtful to bring it in person.” She glanced at Matilda, who nodded woodenly.
“Indeed,” she murmured.
“Well, how can I do otherwise?” Lord Epworth said softly. “When I am faced with such lovely ladies, I must say the best in me is brought out.” He smiled winningly at Matilda, who looked at her hands.
Odious man! She smiled at him, but she felt her stomach crawl. She watched him smile at her mother, and saw her mother beam back. Matilda swallowed hard.
There was something about his mannerly ways, his charming of her mother, that filled her with a strange fear. It was irrational. But she did not like him and she certainly did not trust him.
“You are very kind,” Pauline murmured. Matilda saw from her face, which was stiff and expressionless, that she felt similarly to herself. That was a relief.
Pauline is rarely mistaken about people. Perhaps I am not wrong in my suspicions about this man.
They chatted a while, Matilda all the time glancing about, looking for a means to escape. She noticed her uncle had settled into the seat by the fire, studiously ignoring the conversation by the window.
“You will attend tea here, tomorrow?” Lady Braxton asked.
Lord Epworth shook his head at her polite inquiry. “Regrettably, I doubt that I will be here. I must away.”
“Oh?” Lady Braxton looked curious.
“Matters of business, my lady,” he said deprecatingly. As he said it, Matilda frowned.
Matters of business. Like whatever business he had here, yesterday?
She sighed, feeling impatient with herself. Whyever was she so suspicious of the man? So far he had done nothing worse than pay her polite attention. That ought not to set her so on guard!
“We will anticipate your attendance tomorrow,” Pauline was saying when Matilda's attention returned to present company. He smiled.
“Thank you, my lady.”
Anticipate is right, Matilda thought grimly. Good word-choice, Sister! The anticipation she herself would feel would put her on edge for the rest of the day, she was certain.
“Well, then,” Lord Epworth said, looking briefly at the mantel, where the clock sat, showing the room the time. “I must away. Business calls. But I look forward to seeing you at the manor tonight.”
“Indeed, my lord.”
Lady Braxton was the only one of them who seemed enthusiastic. When Lord Epworth had finally taken his leave, she turned to Matilda in the hallway.
“Well, girls? Whatever is the matter? You seem quite subdued! It must be something momentous.”
“No, mother,” Pauline said quickly.
“Well, out with it then.”
“We were...” Matilda began, then paused.
“Mother, we were thinking how wonderful it would be for Father to go to Brighton with Uncle Bert,” Pauline began relentlessly, voice bright.
“Oh?” their mother frowned. “Brighton? Why on Earth..?”
“It's a good idea, Mother,” Matilda said quickly, sensing the building storm of disapproval. Following on the heels of that disconcerting man, she was not at all sure she could withstand any more stressful things. “Brighton is not too far, and we know the reputation of its coastline for healing waters, not so?”
“Healing waters?” their mother paused. “Their reputation on other fronts isn't that good. I have heard there are footpads and outlaws on the streets there in the night.”
“He would be safe with Uncle Bert there,” Pauline said briskly. “And the doctor recommends a rest.”
“Well...” their mother paused. Matilda held her breath, praying inwardly that she'd agree. “Well, if Uncle Bert is going there...”
“He is,” Matilda interrupted quickly. Her sister mentioning it had reminded her of something Uncle Bert had said about it. Trust Pauline to remember something like that! She smiled gratefully at her sister, who modestly lowered her full-lashed lids. “He said he would be there this summer. Remember? Mayhap he could set his visit forward so Father can go with him.”
“Well, then,” their mother said briskly. “It seems all worked out. When is he leaving? Not too soon, I should think! It's still early.”
“It is,” Matilda nodded. “I think he said mid-June.”
“Well, then,” their mother nodded briskly. “That gives us a fortnight to plan. I should write to your uncle directly...Now I must find Hudson and ask him to take a message to Bert.” She headed quickly towards the door, nodding at Honorius, who waved at her retreating back.
Matilda looked at Pauline as their mother bustled from the room. She leaned back, letting out a long sigh.
“That was brilliant, Pauline,” she said quietly. Pauline grinned.
“Nonsense. Now, we should find Lucas. He will have to help with the preparing.”
“Yes,” Matilda nodded. “I think he'll be pleased something can be done to help our father.”
“Indeed.” Pauline nodded. She smoothed her hands down her pale muslin skirts and the two of them stood.
“Did someone mention Brighton?” their uncle asked as they passed the fireplace, heading for the door.
“Yes, uncle,” Pauline said quietly.
“A bit of sea bathing sounds just the thing for health. I would suggest we all go there soon.”
“Well, we were just suggesting it for Father,” Pauline explained.
“You girls are wise,” he said warmly. “Very wise.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Matilda said, feeling her heart clench with emotion.
“Nonsense. Now stop fretting and off you go,” he said gently. “I believe your mother is having guests tomorrow?”
Matilda nodded. She had almost forgotten the afternoon tea. “Yes,” she said quickly. “I should go and practice my pieces.”
“Quite so, dear. Quite so.” Her uncle nodded happily and Matilda rushed off upstairs.
She walked past t
he drawing room, but the thought of sitting at the pianoforte, alone, poring over the music, filled her with a sense of dread. She decided to go riding.
Outside, the sky was dark with the coming rain. Matilda rode briskly up past the woodlands.
We should hire some day-laborers to repair that stile.
Her thoughts were on other things, willfully not on the problem of their father or the accounts. She was not looking where she was going, heading up across the path toward the crest of the hill.
“My lady?”
She whipped round, feeling a sudden joy. She knew that voice. Henry was there, standing by the path.
“My lord!” she smiled, turning to face him. He looked up at her, blue eyes glowing warmly. He looked pleased to see her, and Matilda felt the happiness that brought. Seeing him again, so soon, brought a smile to her face.
“It's good to see you out and about,” Henry commented. “May I join you?”
“Of course,” Matilda said merrily. She swung down from the saddle, landing firmly on the ground with booted feet. She led her horse, Magic, beside her, Henry on her left side. They walked slowly towards the crest of the hill.
“You look less worried now,” Henry mentioned as they neared the hill-top.
“I am,” Matilda nodded, touched that he had noticed. “I think it is possible Father will recover.”
“Oh?” Henry looked interested.
“Pauline and I...we suggested he take the sea at Brighton.”
“A wise idea.” Henry nodded approvingly. “I am sure it will do him good.”
“Oh. Good.” Matilda smiled, brightening at his praise. “I hope so. He should leave in a fortnight.”
“That is wise,” Henry agreed. “Not too soon, nor too late. Admirable.”
“Thank you, Henry,” Matilda said, feeling relieved. “I am so glad you're here.”
“I want to be here.” Henry looked down at her tenderly.
Matilda sighed. She was so happy when he spoke like that. But at the same time, the sorrow that she could not accept Henry's hand, was always present.
“Henry, you are dear, you know.”
Henry smiled, head tipped back with a light laugh. “Nonsense, dear. I am a complete annoyance. At least, Father says so often enough for me to wonder if he's right.”
“Oh, Henry.”
Matilda smiled at him fondly. He looked down at her. The memory of their kiss thrilled through her. She wished they could do that again, that he would be the man she would wed. That they could spend forever side-by-side.
“My dearest Matilda,” he said gently.
They looked at each other a while longer, sadness and joy mixing. “Yes?” she asked at length.
“I have a confession to make.”
“Oh?” Matilda frowned.
“Yes.”
“What is it?” Matilda asked, sensing that he was teasing her.
“I invited myself to the tea-party at Braxton house.”
“Excuse me?” Matilda laughed aloud now, merriment flowing through her. “Tomorrow? How?”
Henry chuckled. “I was in the village when I met with our neighbor, Lady Terence. I stopped to talk with her – you know how friendly she is – and while I was there, your mother came past in the open carriage. She invited Lady Terence, and, of course, with me right there, looking all expectant, she couldn't refuse.”
Matilda tipped back her head and laughed. “Oh, Henry,” she said warmly. There was nothing else she could say.
“Yes?” he said, eyes lively with merriment.
“Nothing.”
They talked a while longer until they reached the place where the path diverged, one side heading to the village and the other to her home.
“I should go,” Henry said, voice tight. “I promised Father I would call on Mr. Towton and find out if our new books ever arrived.”
“Oh, of course,” Matilda said, feeling a stab of regret at losing his company so soon. “I should head home.”
“Yes.”
Neither of them moved. Henry looked into her eyes, his blue eyes searching.
“Take care, dearest.”
“You too,” Matilda said, her voice tight with emotion.
“I always do,” Henry said playfully. She laughed.
“I'll remind you of that next time you fall from your saddle!” she called.
“Do that!”
He was gone and Matilda rode home. As she did so, she felt her spirits lifting. Not only had she and Pauline come up with an idea that could be helpful to their father, it met with approval from all sides. And Henry would attend tea tomorrow.
With all the worry and concern, the matter of finance, her marriage, and the strange question of Alexander Dartmoor and what, exactly, he was doing on the path towards Braxton House, there was a sudden ray of sunshine. Matilda was smiling as she rode up the narrow footpath toward home.
She was looking forward to afternoon tea tomorrow. Not even the prospect of the ball at Warrington House could upset her.
Chapter 10
The evening settled over the manor with the softness of a dove's wing. Matilda, up in the drawing-room, practicing the pianoforte, sighed when she heard the clock chime.
I suppose I have to get ready.
The ball at Warrington House would start in just over an hour. Matilda sighed, feeling a sinking feeling in her chest. At least, she decided as she walked briskly to her room, she could have her own way with the gown. She would wear blue. That would make what was likely to be an exhausting evening marginally more pleasant.
“Stella,” she said briskly, reaching her bedchamber. “Could you fetch my blue evening-gown, please? And we'd best hurry...Mama wants to depart at half an hour past six.”
“Oh! Heavens, milady. That's soon...”
Matilda bit back a grin as Stella rushed about the room, though she winced as she tightened the corset zealously.
“Not so tight, I think, Stella...I'd rather you did not cut me in half.”
“Oh! Sorry, milady. It was just the hurrying, and all. Here, let me loosen it a little.”
Matilda breathed out, still wincing. It was soon too late to do anything to adjust it, as Stella was helping her into her dress. It was sky blue and had sleeves of blue gauze, light and floaty.
“Oh, milady. There. You look like a picture,” Stella breathed, standing back to admire her handiwork.
“Thank you, Stella.”
Matilda blushed shyly, then smiled as she smoothed her hands down the muslin skirts. She felt beautiful. This dress was so much better than the yellow one. She made a private resolution to always pick her own ballgowns from this day.
“Now, what about the hair..?”
“Ringlets, I think, Stella.”
“Right.”
When Stella had finished her hair, she sat at the dressing-table a moment, breathing deeply. The whirlwind of dressing over, she had time to be nervous. What would she do if Alexander insisted on monopolizing her all evening? She should be flattered, but he unnerved her so much.
He is dishonest. And why is he so interested in my family? Mother trusts him so much, but I cannot share her faith in him?
She sighed. Her reverie was interrupted a moment later by a cough from the doorway. She turned.
“Pauline!”
Her sister smiled from the doorway. “Hello, Tildie. You are ready too?”
“Yes,” Matilda sighed, blowing out her cheeks. “After a whirlwind session with Stella!”
Pauline laughed. She came into the room and sat on the edge of her bed, resplendent in a pale lavender-blue gown. She had her dark curls arranged in a complicated and becoming style atop her head, a style that made her eyes look even wider than they usually did; full-lashed and lovely.
“You look worried,” Matilda commented.
“I am,” Pauline admitted, chewing her dark red lip. “What are we going to do about this?”
“You mean Mama and her planning?” Matilda asked. She nodded. “I d
on't know.”
“Mama means Cornelius for me, Alexander for you.”
“I know,” Matilda said. “I know I should be excited about it. But, oh! Pauline! He's so...so horrid! Untrustworthy. I don't like him. Silly, I know,” she added lamely, looking at her hands.
“It's not silly,” Pauline insisted firmly. “After all, we know nothing about him. About either of them.”
“I know.”
“We don't know whether we can trust him or not,” her sister continued. “In all likelihood, there's no reason not to. He could just be, you know, unctuous,” Pauline said, raising her shoulder. “Oily. Smooth and shallow-minded. I don't suppose there's any reason to mistrust him.”
“No,” Matilda agreed slowly. She glanced at herself in the mirror. She had just finished having her hair arranged, and was choosing jewelery to match her dress. She held up some pearl earrings, checking if they matched.
“I like them,” Pauline nodded helpfully. “You never know,” she added, continuing on her theme while Matilda donned her earrings, “we could be being horribly mistaken.”
“I don't know,” Matilda grimaced. “We're not naturally-suspicious.”
Pauline breathed out a sigh. “True.”
Matilda knew she was right. They were not the sort of people to leap to conclusions about someone. She reached for a necklace, trying to find something to match the earrings.
“That's good,” Pauline commented when she was done. Matilda turned to face her.
“You look lovely, Pauline.” She did. With the soft lavender muslin, she wore a necklace with a sapphire pendant and sapphire earrings, their darker blue exactly complimenting the grayed blue of the dress and both serving to highlight the depths of her eyes.
“You're just kind,” Pauline smiled.
Matilda chuckled, a little incredulous.
“No,” she said briskly, “I'm honest.” Pauline was one of the most beautiful women at any gathering! How could she be so modest! She surely knew by now how beautiful she was? “Now, how about you?”
“How about me..? Oh.” She paused. “You mean...”
“Yes. Mother's big project.”
They both laughed.
