by Locke, Laura
Unless I'm not supposed to know they are struggling. Or unless somehow the solution has aught to do with me.
The thought made her shiver. She drew her shawl closer about her shoulders and tried not to think about it.
“Cornelia?”
“Yes, Alexandra?” she was watching Cornelia shrewdly and Cornelia frowned.
“You are not unwell, are you? I heard there is a fever spreading about...you should take better care of yourself. You're sure you're up to tea today?”
Cornelia frowned. “I am well, thank you. Just a draft from the door making me shiver.”
“Oh. Well, then.” Alexandra finished a slice of bread and marmalade, then reached for fresh tea. “I hope you will join us for the recital?”
“Recital?”
“Yes. At Lady Amelia's.”
“Oh. Tomorrow evening?” Cornelia asked. “Mayhap.”
“Yes, it is tomorrow. I trust you'll be feeling well by then.”
“I ought to be,” Cornelia said carefully.
“Well, then.”
They sat and talked over breakfast a while, then Alexandra departed for her walk and Richmond stood to go.
“I hope to see you after tea, my lady,” he said. “I have come to enjoy your company a great deal.”
“Oh.” Cornelia swallowed. “Thank you, Richmond. I like yours, too.”
He flushed. It was a splendid red blush and when he looked like that, he might as well be sixteen years old, not four and twenty. Cornelia smiled.
“I hope to see you before I go,” she said decidedly.
“I hope that too. I have a meeting with my steward – these people! Never a moment's peace.”
Cornelia smiled and stood. “Have a good morning.”
He pulled a face, but thanked her and returned the wishes. Then he was off.
Cornelia wandered through to the drawing-room to fetch the purse she'd left there on the sideboard. She passed Allanson, who frowned at her.
“You're up early, mistress.”
“I am. I think we all woke early this morning, Allanson.”
“'Twould seem so milady.”
Cornelia frowned. The woman had the same suspicious manner as her mistress, Lady Alexandra. Why? She didn't say anything, but, folding her purse into her hand, headed downstairs to fetch her bonnets. While she was there, an armful of bonnets clutched to her on the way upstairs, Lady Alexandra came downstairs.
“Going somewhere?” she asked quickly.
“N...no,” Cornelia said, struggling to keep the bonnets clutched tight in her arms against her. “I was just, you know, tidying up. I do seem to leave things all over.”
“I suppose.” Lady Alexandra's eyes narrowed. “You seem distracted, Cornelia. Is aught amiss? I really should call the physician to ascertain if you have this fever.”
“I'm quite well,” Cornelia said quietly but firmly. “Just a little tired.”
“Well, then.” Alexandra said blandly. “Have a good day. I'm off to walk.”
“Enjoy your walk, Alexandra.”
“I shall.”
She headed across the floor, boots tapping on the marble floor downstairs. Cornelia heaved a sigh of relief and headed up the stairs. She was shaking by the time she reached the top and heard the door close with a bang.
“Whew.” She paused on the landing, her chest heaving, then headed towards her room.
What is wrong with me?
Alexandra was suspicious. She clearly had a sense Cornelia was hiding something. But why was she scared? It was not as if Alexandra actually had the power to harm her.
What do I expect her to do?
Cornelia sighed and dropped her burden, sorting through the bonnets on the bed, one at a time.
“I'll wear the white one,” she decided aloud. “And these I can pack...”
She jumped at a knock at the door as she opened the trunk to start packing them. “Yes?”
“My lady? It's me, Linton. Let me in?”
Cornelia opened the door to admit Linton. She looked anxious.
“What is it?” Cornelia asked, stepping back.
“I can't get the dresses from the laundry. She says they're not finished – I had an argument with her, but no...couldn't convince her. I'm sorry, milady. What should we do?
Cornelia sighed. “Perhaps I could reason with her,” she suggested at last. “She can't very well stop me from having use of my own property! I'll tell her I need the white day-gown today, and the blue for this evening. She can't very well question that, yes?”
Linton nodded. “If you could do that, my lady, it would be a great help.”
“I shall.” Cornelia sighed. She headed downstairs.
The conversation with Mrs. Allanson was brief and to the point. She asked for the dresses and Allanson agreed to fetch them.
“The white one needed starching. The starch might still be wet,” she warned.
“I'll have to make do with that, then,” Cornelia said firmly. “If you could have them sent up to me?”
“I shall, my lady.”
Allanson gave her a stony glance, then carried on laying the table for luncheon. Cornelia headed upstairs.
“She'll have them sent up.”
“Glory be! Milady.” Linton chuckled. “You must have a temper on you to best that one.”
Cornelia smiled. “I didn't have to lose my temper, luckily. But you are right. They're odd here.”
“They are.”
The dresses arrived ten minutes later, and Cornelia and Linton took them eagerly from the angry-looking housekeeper. They folded them carefully and packed them in the trunks.
“I can't get them to fit, milady,” Linton said, struggling with the lid of the box.
“Here, let me,” Cornelia demurred. “If we take one of these ones out, then mayhap we can fit this one in...here,” she said, taking out a peach gown. “If I wear that this afternoon, I think these two will fit.”
“Here, let me,” Linton said, coming to push the two dresses into where the one had been. “Now...” She gave the lid a shove and it closed. Cornelia grinned.
“There we are.”
“We just need to get the string round these and...” Linton murmured, pushing the lid shut again. The door opened.
“Cornelia!” Alexandra sounded surprised.
Cornelia stared. She dropped the dress on the bed and backed away. “Alexandra.”
Alexandra stepped in and looked around. Saw Linton at the cases, and her eyes narrowed. Linton stood, her hands at her sides. Her eyes were huge as she looked to Cornelia.
Leave this to me, Cornelia thought. Linton seemed to guess what she meant, for she said nothing.
“Cornelia? What's all this?” Alexandra said quietly. “You're not...going, are you?”
Cornelia cleared her throat. “Why, we were just checking that all my luggage still fits,” she explained, in what she hoped was a convincing manner. “Since you so generously gave me two dresses, and I bought a few more bonnets and fripperies, I took it into my head that mayhap they wouldn't all fit. Silly me,” she added with an attempt at a light laugh. “They fit perfectly.”
“Well, it was only two gowns. Are you sure you're well?” Alexandra said curiously.
“Yes, yes...perfectly well. Thank you,” Cornelia added, glancing about the room. Oh, why wouldn't she leave? Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt desperate.
“Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to come and choose fabric with me for a new gown. I have a small selection here in the house. But since you're packing, I suppose...” she raised a brow.
“Oh, not packing, Alexandra. Not really. Just preparing...” she sighed.
“Yes, well. Whatever it is. I trust you're too busy to want to look at some fabric now?”
“Oh, no! I'd like that. I'm sorry...maybe the heat has affected me. I'm restless and dizzy.”
“Perhaps you should lie down,” Alexandra said decidedly. “This heat does affect one. Moving abo
ut too much only worsens it.”
“True,” Cornelia nodded. In truth, she was relieved to be spared the fabric-selecting. “Well, I think I'll do that then. See you at lunch-time?”
“Yes, you shall,” Alexandra said succinctly. Then, closing the door behind her, left.
“Whew.” Cornelia sat down heavily, the bed sighing under her. Linton collapsed onto the trunk. They looked at each other, mute.
“I think she suspects,” Cornelia said slowly. “She doesn't know for sure, but I'm sure she knows something is afoot.”
“I think so, milady.” Linton nodded. “I don't like it. I don't trust her.”
“Me neither, Linton,” Cornelia admitted, glad to be able to finally admit to that. She looked about the room, trying to find calm. The place was neat and orderly, the velvet cushions placed on the bed, the dressing-table ordered, the pitcher on the nightstand blue and white porcelain against the soft white of the walls. It was a lovely room.
I wish I could feel safe.
But it was impossible. There was too much going on behind closed doors, to many secrets.
“I think we'll manage this,” she said confidently to Linton, the she herself felt far from that.
“I hope so,” Linton said in a small voice. “I tried to organize the coach earlier.”
“Oh, you angel! It's done?”
“Yes, my lady,” Linton said, two spots of color shone high in her cheeks with the compliment.
“Well, then! We are almost there.”
“Yes, my lady,” Linton said uneasily. “I hope that's right.”
“It must be, Linton. How can it not work? Alexandra is...difficult,” she said carefully. “But she is not dangerous. I can't believe she'd wish me any harm.”
“No, my lady,” Linton said carefully. “I don't think so either.”
Cornelia lifted the peach dress and passed it to Linton to set aside for her later. “I'm sure we'll be gone soon.”
“We should be,” Linton agreed, arranging the skirts of the dress as she hung it up.
Cornelia sat down on the bed, too nervous for sleeping, but not inclined to venture out of the room before luncheon, lest she encounter Lady Alexandra.
I'm silly, she thought impatiently. The woman is a little odd, admittedly. But what would she do to me? She would not stop me leaving. Why would she?
All the same, she could not help a tingle of unease. Why had Alexandra looked so angry at the thought of her departing? If it was friendly concern, she would not have disapproved so. It was not that she was offended by the thought of her guest leaving early – had it been so, she would have said it. Alexandra was not inclined to soften the truth.
She clearly doesn't want me to go. I think she would rather I never went to Claudia's either. Why not?
Cornelia stood and went slowly to the window. Out there, the garden was bright and warm, the flowers a splash of color in the green. The rooftops were oranges and russets, sharp contrast with the cyan sky. But Cornelia could not find peace in the scene. She was afraid.
Alexandra is planning something. I just know it.
All she could do was wait to find out what.
Chapter 18
Cornelia took a deep breath and headed upstairs after luncheon. It had been a tense meal, though Richmond's company had eased the heavy atmosphere between her and Alexandra. She headed upstairs. She was crossing the elaborate landing with its marble flooring, her slippers whispering on the stone, when Alexandra appeared.
“Cornelia!”
“Yes?” She jumped, then struggled for calm, making herself breathe slowly. In. Out. In. Out.
“Might I speak with you a moment? It'll only be a moment.”
“Of course, Alexandra. What is it?”
“Let's talk here – it's more private here,” Alexandra said, directing her into the guest-bedchamber, Cornelia's room for while she was here. Cornelia followed, heart thudding as Alexandra shut the door behind them.
“What is it?” she asked, looking at her.
“You're leaving,” Alexandra said, bluntly. “Don't deny it. I talked to Allanson and she talked to the carriage-driver. You mean to sneak away.”
“Alexandra?” Cornelia stared. Her heart was thumping. She really was frightened now. “How can you...”
“I know. Don't think you can fool me.” Her thin face had spots of color on the cheeks. “I'm not a fool to be trifled with. Richmond's a dear but he'd not notice a rhinoceros in his writing-case. So, let's be frank. Since you've decided to be already.”
“I haven't...” Cornelia began. She felt her hands wring her skirts and made herself drop them. She was not afraid. Or if she was, she was not about to let someone else know that she was. Especially not Lady Alexandra.
“Don't tell me lies!” she snapped. “You've told me enough already. Now. I am going to tell you precisely why I chose to bring you here. After that,” she paused, “you might decide to change your mind.”
“Very well,” Cornelia said quietly. “Please. Tell me.” she sat down, trying to appear more calm than she was.
“Right.” Alexandra stayed where she was, standing before her. “You might think we have wealth here. Well, we do. But not as we would have it. Not as much...at our disposal...as we'd like. You see,” she paused. “I have an uncle. Greedy, difficult man he is. He keeps a tight rein on the purse that should be Richmond's. And mine. It was Father's estate,” she said tightly. “But Uncle Rodney thinks it's his. It's most vexing.”
“That must be difficult,” Cornelia said slowly.
“It's insufferable,” Lady Alexandra snapped. “But that was not the point I'm trying to make. I wished to tell you that...” she paused. “We need you here.”
“You do?” Cornelia frowned. “Why? How...” she trailed off as Alexandra clasped her hands together.
“Richmond needs a wife. For several reasons. And I want you.”
Cornelia stared. “You want me...to marry Richmond? But why? Surely there are...”
“You're suitable,” Lady Alexandra snapped. “I thought so when first I saw you. Close to Richmond in age, a few years his junior. Biddable, not troublesome. Simple and sweet and unlikely to assert yourself in any way whatsoever. I don't need Richmond having a wife who'll try and run things her way.”
Cornelia stared at her. “You chose me for Richmond? It was you! At that ball...”
“In Braxley. Yes. I was visiting a relation there – your Lord Haughton – and I attended the ball that night. I saw you and wondered. I made inquiries. You are suitable. I want you to do this thing for me.”
“Alexandra, I...” Cornelia trailed off as Alexandra cleared her throat.
“I would not do this, were there another way. But uncle is adamant. Richmond only comes into his authority as earl if he finds a suitable wife. And you're suitable. And there's the matter of a dowry...I believe yours would be advantageous to us. And with a wife, I think Richmond would settle. Be less extravagant and demonstrative. It would suit us well.”
Cornelia felt her head drifting as if she would collapse. She closed her eyes, glad she had chosen to sit down to discuss it. What Lady Alexandra said made sense. It was clearly a solution. It was what she wanted. But Richmond...
“That's why you lied to me!” she exclaimed, understanding finally. “You told me Francis was...an unsuitable match.”
“I told you the man was degenerate,” Lady Alexandra countered. “But it didn't work, evidently.”
“You wanted to put me off. To decide against him. So I would turn to you. And to Richmond too.”
“Exactly. Well, that didn't work,” Alexandra sighed. “So back to the drawing-board. But at least you know, now. And you know why I cannot let you leave. You're needed here.”
Cornelia felt terrible. Alexandra sounded desperate. Why she had chosen to enroll Cornelia in the role, she had no idea. Surely there were more suitable young heiresses in town?
“Alexandra,” she said, standing and walking to her. She stood before
her, expression gentle. “I am sorry. I really, truly am. But I cannot do this. I cannot marry Richmond. I do not love him.” As she said it, she knew that it was likely silly. Her Francis was patently unsuitable, it was true.
But life is too short to follow someone else's dictates. I already almost lost him once. I will not lose him again.
Lady Alexandra laughed. “Foolish, Cornelia!” she sighed. “I know you are biddable, but I never took you for a fool.”
Cornelia felt herself get angry. A small, white flame burned inside her. Her voice went cold.
“I am not a fool, Lady Alexandra. It is not foolish to believe in the power of love.”
Lady Alexandra shook her head. “You're mad, Cornelia,” she said flatly. “Whatever fever you caught outdoors has turned your brain. But I think I have a cure for that madness. You'll come round to my way of thinking soon enough.”
“Alexandra, I am assuredly not mad. Nor am I feverish. I am well. And now, if you don't mind, I wish to go home. I want to see my cousin.”
Alexandra laughed. “Well, you can want it, Cornelia. But you'll not have it. I have had enough of this. I have made my plans. It is not for you to unmake them.”
“Alexandra?” Cornelia frowned. “What are you...”
She moved to the door but she was too late. Alexandra had slipped through and closed it. Cornelia tried the handle but as she turned it hastily she heard the click of a lock. Alexandra had locked her in her room.
“What?” Cornelia stared. It was not possible. How could she do such a thing? She rattled the handle, banged on the door. “Alexandra?” she called. “Let me out! Someone, help! Unlock it.”
But no-one came. After five minutes of hammering and calling. Cornelia sat down on the bed, feeling desperate.
“She cannot mean this.” Surely she was fooling. After five minutes or so she would come back and release her. Surely.
But nothing happened. She sat for five minutes, fretful and waiting, but no-one came. She stood. The hallway was eerily quiet – she had heard nobody walk past for the last while. She tried the handle again, and banged on the door. She sighed.
