Amanda L.V. Shalaby

by Rhianna

  Rhianna listened courteously to her as she detailed her favorite features of the garden, the extent of the property and house, the size of the rooms compared to those in the surrounding manors, including a ballroom rivaled only by that at Ravensleigh, and the significant number of servants they kept. In the end, Lydia expressed her humble desire of only finding herself worthy of being called its mistress.

  Thus seemingly absorbed with her own home and social rank, Lydia Kingsley made it clear almost immediately that she did not care very much about getting to know Rhianna — save for one subject.

  “How long will you be staying with us?” Before Rhianna could respond, Lydia added, “Oh my, that sounds dreadful, does it not? I would never want to suggest you were imposing on us, Miss Braden. No, no, not at all. I am simply wondering how long we can expect to enjoy your company.”

  “Oh, I didn’t … I’m not quite sure, exactly …”

  “But of course you’re not quite sure,” she agreed. “You’ve only just arrived. How ridiculous of me! And do not feel you are at all in the way. The manor is quite large enough to accommodate a crowd without its members needing ever meet. And if my husband views you as his special guest, then I beg you to imagine I feel exactly the same.”

  Rhianna found herself nearly speechless by this, but managed a simple “thank you.”

  Upon nearing a grand, ivory-colored rotunda, its pillars draped in clematis and its dome reflected in a nearby, manmade lake, the two women paused for sanctuary from the sun. From a bench within, they had an excellent view of the back of Kingsley Manor and its courtyard. Having never seen the home from this angle, Rhianna was struck by its undeniable beauty.

  “My husband, in his good intention of seeing you promptly settled,” continued Lady Kingsley, “placed you in the lavender guest room. I have since told him that you would be much more at ease in the rose room. You can see its window from here. It has a positively enchanting view of this rotunda and is far superior to the room you are presently in. Besides, as my husband’s distinguished visitor, you deserve the best.”

  “You are very thoughtful, Lady Kingsley,” Rhianna expressed, speaking for what was almost the first time since they had left the house. “I am sure, however, that the present situation is most sufficient. I would never wish to be moved. It would be beyond unnecessary.”

  For a brief moment, Rhianna thought she sensed a feeling of disapproval from Lydia Kingsley. Indeed, the look that crossed her face proved she did not expect to find resistance. Rhianna hoped it was not ill-mannered of her to refuse such an action as the lady was suggesting. Never did she intend to insult her, nor did she wish to seem ungrateful. Rhianna’s feelings were simple — they had already done quite enough for her and the idea of them doing more was a thing she could in no way accept.

  Lady Kingsley seemed intent on persuading her. “Oh, but my dear, think of how you’ll not have to deal with the stuffiness that comes with your current apartment. The heat from the fire is more in proportion to the measurements of the rose room.”

  “Thank you, and thank you again, but …”

  “I cannot hear it,” she interrupted. “I shall have you in comfort by the end of the afternoon. Besides, Katie is moving your articles as we speak.”

  With this last, her fate was sealed. To the rose room she must go.

  Strange feelings accompanied this conversation. Something in the tone of it reminded Rhianna of her conversation with Desmond earlier. Perhaps it was merely speculation, but she was beginning to believe that there was a decided reason Lady Kingsley wanted her out of the lavender room.

  Rhianna’s things were moved upon their return to the house, and it was in the rose room she would prepare for dinner at Kingsley Manor. When the door was closed behind her, Rhianna conducted a brief inspection. The view of the rotunda, where only an hour before she had been a guest, she could not but fall in love with. But aside from being in the rear of the manor and a very little improvement in temperature, Rhianna was unable to distinguish any great differences between the rose and lavender rooms.

  From this location, however, there were no carriages and no voices to awaken her. Rhianna would have slept peacefully through the succeeding nights, save for a few childhood memories come back to haunt her dreams …

  • • •

  Like the ivy that overtook the lodge, the roses overtook the garden and the white picket fence that enclosed the area. No post, no stone was free of them. To grow such flowers so deep in the woods undoubtedly took a great deal of energy and care, and these roses were as plump and brilliant as any Rhianna had seen in more favorable conditions. A break in the trees above allowed the necessary sunlight. Rhianna tilted her head back and felt its warm rays on her face. Such a perfect, peaceful place, she thought, while raising one particularly red flower to her tiny nose. The fragrance of them swirled in the air around her as she continued her exploration, tracing the short, stone walkway that led to the heart of the garden.

  And there, at the end of the path, a gravestone emerged. A nine-year-old Rhianna caught her breath as she read the engraving: My Beloved Haldana 1794–1813.

  The stone blended in so well she hadn’t noticed it at first. It lay close to the lodge and was framed in roses and vines.

  All at once, Rhianna felt as though the world fell silent. It was as if the woods around her were not only watching, but waiting — even anticipating — for something to happen. The roses, too, seemed to close in on her, to trap her. The world outside the garden seemed to grow farther and farther away. She began to feel lightheaded. Her pulse quickened. Her fingers tingled. Fearfully, she retreated to the outer edge of the garden.

  Mauvreen appeared at the gate and the vision of her immediately eased Rhianna’s disquieted emotions. Had she been in a dark room, Mauvreen would have been a glowing fire, her glorious light thwarting any encircling evils.

  “What are you doing out here, child?” Mauvreen asked her.

  Mauvreen’s tone seemed different, uneasy, just like the forest. Rhianna felt she must have done something wrong.

  “I wanted to see the roses,” Rhianna explained, as the woman approached her. “Are you angry with me, Mauvreen?”

  “Angry?” Mauvreen repeated in shock. “Rhianna …” She hesitated. “Don’t be silly. I only wish you had waited for me.”

  She knelt down so that the two of them were of equal height and gave a passing glance toward the gravestone.

  “I’m sorry, Mauvreen,” Rhianna apologized. Then, following her friend’s gaze, she faltered, “Who is this buried here? Who is Haldana?”

  Mauvreen had a look of uneasiness on her face and she did not answer immediately. As she stalled, her weathered fingers combed a few unruly strands of her wiry hair into place.

  “Someone who was very dear to me,” she responded softly. Then, in a revealing statement, unlike Mauvreen to offer, she added, “She is the girl in your favorite drawing.”

  Rhianna’s mouth fell. “I always thought that girl … was you.”

  “Oh! Goodness, child. I was never that pretty.”

  Rhianna suddenly saw the grave in an entirely different light. All fears associated with it were long gone. Curiosity began to take over.

  “Haldana …”

  “We called her Hallie.”

  “She was young. What did she die from, Mauvreen?”

  Shaking her head, as if trying to cast the sadness from her person, Mauvreen suddenly closed up. She would continue the conversation no further.

  “Let us not discuss such things.”

  “But why is she not buried in the churchyard?”

  “No, no. That is enough of that.”

  “But, Mauvreen!” Rhianna begged.

  “Come.”

  Mauvreen rose to her feet and took her by the hand.

  Rhianna had known Mauvreen long enough to know when the time for pressing her for secrets was up. With a reluctant nod, she obliged her, the image of a gravestone etched in her mind and the na
me Hallie echoing in her ears …

  Even though she knew she was asleep, Rhianna could not wake herself. The memories would hold her captive until they had played out in full. Her body turned freely in her sheets, but her mind was imprisoned. Her fingers closed around the brooch she had placed under her pillow — Hallie’s brooch — as she waited for the dream to release her.

  • • •

  As the weeks passed, not many hours were spent going through the items at the Bradens’ cottage. Rhianna packed a few books, including a well-worn copy of The History of Sir Charles Grandison, but she had no interest in any articles belonging to either parent. Guilford Kingsley assisted her in selling a few items, but she decided to leave the majority there for the temporary minister found by Lord Kingsley, who was to hold the position until a more permanent resident could be installed. Overall, Rhianna preferred to spend her time becoming acquainted with Kingsley Manor’s inhabitants.

  Of the Kingsley family, Lydia and Desmond were the least to be seen, and Rhianna preferred it that way. When she did find herself in their company, usually in the evening, the former seemed always to look as though she was required to be elsewhere and the latter seemed never to take his eyes off Rhianna. On the opposite side of the spectrum, Guilford Kingsley proved consistent in personality and generosity. Rhianna also had opportunity to spend considerable time alone with Audra Kingsley, who, with the same large eyes, high cheekbones, and light hair and skin as her father, decidedly resembled the handsomer side of the family. Audra also seemed fortunate enough to have avoided inheriting her mother’s snobbish personality or her brother’s arrogance. She grew quickly attached to Rhianna, who found it quite natural to return the affection.

  Of those in service, Katie, a housemaid, and Henry, the butler, were two with whom she made easy friends and whose company she enjoyed when she was not exploring the many ins and outs of the house.

  In this area, she spent as much free time as she possibly could. One particular curiosity existed in the form of a door that lay down the northern corridor, on the first floor. Surrounded by many of the family chambers, it remained locked at all times and Rhianna could not, without seeming overly curious, find anyone who could tell her why or what lay beyond it.

  When six weeks had passed, Rhianna received a letter from Soleil, with a few lines from Philippe enclosed. Because her first letter to them had offered little information beyond her safe arrival at the manor, Soleil’s letter eagerly pressed for more details. Her writing seemed, from the very page, as an extension of herself. However, Soleil could not master the feeling that Philippe’s words conveyed in only a few sentences. They reached a level of emotion that only he, in his adoration of her, could communicate. As her eyes scanned the words, Rhianna could almost feel his presence beside her.

  It might have been an easy letter to respond to, with so much to communicate since her previous note, except for the last inquiry in Philippe’s hand, namely, when she could be expected to return to them. For days, Rhianna was lost as to how to reply to this letter. As much as she missed France, she was in no hurry to return. Philippe’s regard confused and unsettled her. Besides, there were still things she wanted to do in England. At the same time, she could not impose on the Kingsleys much longer. There seemed no choice but to leave — until an offer from Lord Kingsley opened the possibility of remaining.

  It was a quiet morning at the Kingsley home. Lydia and Desmond were out walking and Audra had just left to join up with them when Guilford Kingsley called Rhianna into his study. It was a dark, burgundy-themed room, with magnificent, fitted bookcases lining the walls containing a collection of books that far surpassed that found at Madame Chandelle’s. Above a marble fireplace mantel hung a Greek sculpture of an Athenian couple, and antique pieces sat here and there. Marveling as she entered, Rhianna accepted the seat he offered before his writing desk.

  “Miss Braden,” he addressed, taking his own seat opposite her, “I hope you have enjoyed these last several weeks with us. That is, as much as possible, under the circumstances.”

  “I have, very much.”

  “I am glad of it. Be certain of our happiness in having you here. Additionally, be assured that you may stay as long as you wish.”

  Her conversation with Lydia Kingsley in the first days as a guest at Kingsley Manor was briefly called to mind. How different a feel such similar words had coming from Lord Kingsley!

  “You are too kind, Lord Kingsley. Though, I expect to have other arrangements soon. As you know, my family in France is anxious to know my plans.”

  “Ah! This brings me to my purpose in calling you here. I promise to get right to the point. Hopefully, I have not pulled you from anything very pressing.”

  “No, indeed, my lord. Audra has just left me to find her mother and brother. I am fully unengaged.”

  He continued, “Well, then, let me not waste a moment, lest she should return for you. You realize, Miss Braden, that as the daughter of my departed friend, my help is infinitely extended toward you.”

  “Then I am infinitely grateful, sir.”

  “Something occurred to me recently,” he told her, each word delivered with well-pondered thought, “and, as you have yet to respond to your letter, I think I shall suggest it to you, while the opportunity is still open.”

  There was a quality in Guilford Kingsley unique to himself. A characteristic that gave the impression a person could not only be oneself in his company, but that he truly enjoyed having one’s company. He openly and willingly offered himself as a friend to any who welcomed the relationship.

  “You have certainly captured my interest,” Rhianna admitted.

  “Audra,” he began, “as I am sure you know, is so very fond of you. Now, I flatter myself as having an excellent grasp of the obvious and I have not ever seen her so fond of anyone.”

  Rhianna smiled. “The feeling is mutual, I assure you. She is a delightful young lady.”

  “I’m glad to hear you think so,” he said gaily. “Audra’s previous governess, Miss Barnesworth, married recently and is yet to be replaced. Miss Braden, there is no one I would rather have as Audra’s guardian and teacher than yourself. In fact, it is my express desire. That is, of course, if you are interested in such a situation.”

  Governess to Lord Kingsley’s daughter! The surprise of such an offer was more than she could have dreamed. Yet, he did not request from her a résumé, nor require references. He simply presented to her the position.

  “Surely, you must first wish to find me qualified?” she managed.

  He shook his head. “There is no doubt as to your abilities, Miss Braden. As a teacher at Madame Chandelle’s for more than two years, I hardly think you could be unsuitable. No, I’m confident in your qualifications — both in intellect and character. I hope you don’t mind my saying you would be a good exemplar to Audra. I believe she would also be more apt to learn from someone whom she regards and in whose company she finds enjoyment. Her interaction with you this last month or so has proven such is the case. My only wish is that you will inform me of your decision anon.”

  Rhianna was at once certain. “I can answer it for you now, Lord Kingsley, and the answer is yes! I would like it very much. Indeed, I hardly know what else to say! Thank you for your confidence in me. I will do my utmost not to disappoint you.”

  “I have no fear of it,” he replied contentedly. “None, whatsoever.”

  And so it was settled. She replied to her letter with news of her new position, and instruction with Audra soon began. Classes included literature, history, geography, sciences, foreign languages, and religion, not to mention embroidery, painting, music, and art — essentially, all the workings of a proper education. Riding, too, was soon a daily custom, and the bond between student and teacher grew until Audra and Rhianna were, at last, inseparable.

  Ere long, months passed of settling in, and somewhere between teaching, writing letters to the Vallières, and visiting Mauvreen whenever the opportunity admitted
, Kingsley Manor became home.

  • • •

  “She is looking very well.”

  Mauvreen stated this matter-of-factly, as she took a seat before the cloaked man in the sitting room of the lodge.

  “How would you know?” he returned. “Not that anything you know surprises me, Mauvreen.”

  Mauvreen offered a smile before answering. “She has been to see me. But you already knew that.”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “What is there to be done?” Mauvreen continued. “You cannot place a barrier around Kingsley woods. Even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.”

  “No,” he returned. “I expect you wouldn’t. Nor would I have any intention, if I could.”

  His eyes met hers with a knowing glance.

  “I did not expect she would search for you after all these years, but perhaps some secrets are not meant to be kept.”

  Chapter Three

  Lord Thayne Brighton was returning from London when he witnessed the accident from the window of his carriage. What had so frightened the horse he knew not — all he could see was her. Fear seized him while he helplessly watched the horse throw her from its saddle.

  Thayne cried to his driver to halt, tossing his top hat and cloak aside. No sooner had the wheels slowed than he leapt to the road and ran into the field where the woman lay.

  “Hello, there! Are you all right?”

  There was no response, either audible or visible, as he neared. The horse moved some distance away as Thayne approached, agitatedly swinging its tail and huffing. Dropping to his knees beside the still body, he could not but despise the beast that had thrown her, an angelic beauty who seemed something out of Shakespeare’s plays or Michelangelo’s paintings. What relief he felt to see that she was alive!

  Who was this striking creature, whose delicate self lay weak before him? Who was this young woman garbed in riding clothes, unaccompanied and unfamiliar, defenseless to whomever chanced to find her? He must know who she was. The steed she had been riding, Lord Brighton could discern, was a well-bred specimen from no ordinary stable. Perhaps, a new family had moved into Thornton since his departure?