How to Play the Game of Love (Ladies of Passion)

by Harmony Williams

I hissed at the burn but pushed onward. Before long, I stood in the water, both my legs protesting its heat. I waited, letting them grow accustomed to the water before I slowly sank down.

  My legs were hardier than the rest of my body. As the hot water touched my rump, I hissed and held onto the rim of the tub for balance.

  Emily walked in to find me that way.

  She propped her hands on her hips as she beheld me. “Miss, I told you to wait.”

  “You took too long,” I sent back between clenched teeth.

  Clucking under her breath, Emily set down the neatly folded bundle of my underclothes, which she had chosen for me to wear today. She grabbed a bar of soap and a cloth and crossed to me with a glimmer in her eye that warned me of unpleasant things soon to come.

  “Sit,” she said, pointing to the tub.

  Without thinking, I sat. I yelped at the hot water. When I started to stand, she held me down with a firm grip on my shoulders. “You didn’t want to wait,” she reminded me.

  “I couldn’t.” I squirmed from her firm grasp. How did she get to be so strong? I couldn’t wrest myself free. Tears stung my eyes, threatening to fall again. At least she shouldn’t be able to see with all the splashing and steam in the room.

  “I can’t keep thinking of him,” I confessed in a small voice.

  She set to scrubbing my back vigorously. I yelped as new patches of skin were exposed to the water with her splashes. Gradually, my body adjusted to the heat.

  “You have to,” she said between grunts as she worked vigorously. Goodness, what was her rush? She usually let me sit and soak in the water a bit before washing. I lifted my arm obediently when she prodded me. She soaped up its length, then dunked it in the water.

  I spluttered as a bit of soapy water washed into my mouth. “What do you mean, I have to? Shouldn’t you be on my side, encouraging me not to nurse my broken heart?”

  She rounded to my other side, her mouth set in a scowl. “That’s all well and good, but it won’t help you. You have to think about him. You have to see him. We still have two full days of this house party before we depart on Friday.”

  Blast, but she was right. How was I supposed to spend more time with him? Lady Dunlop would push us together again, unaware of the rift that had formed between us.

  “I can’t stay,” I said. Horror washed over me at the thought. “I’ll go home early. I’ll apologize to Lady Dunlop. Surely she’ll understand.”

  Emily raised her eyebrows. “Has she seemed to you like the understanding sort?”

  I shuddered. No, not in the least. But I couldn’t stay here.

  “What of Daisy?” Emily pressed on. “She’ll be heartbroken if you leave early.”

  “No more than me,” I shot back.

  Emily paused. She canted her head. “Are you heartbroken, miss? I thought you said you didn’t love him.”

  Not anymore.

  “I didn’t. I don’t.” I raised a soapy hand to my forehead. “I don’t know, anymore. Do I need to be in love for him to hurt me?”

  “No,” Emily admitted. She hesitated but dropped the soap and cloth into the water to clasp my hand. “Miss Rose, did he force himself on you?”

  “Of course not.” I retracted my hand, but weariness overwhelmed me. “If he had, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d be talking to Mary.”

  For all that she ruined my marriage prospects and often belittled my choices, Mary was a very, very good friend to have in a pinch. In any sort of pinch, but especially if the situation involved a man, one whom you wanted to shame or even hurt in retaliation.

  Warren had broken my heart, but he hadn’t done any harm to me physically. My virtue was intact. Only my pride was wounded, that he’d manipulated me.

  Maybe I’d wanted to think him in love and imagined his ardor. Regardless, he didn’t deserve to be punished. Not for my own bout of foolishness.

  I wanted nothing more than to go home to London, so I never had to see him again. At least, not until I was happily married and could throw it in his face that I was happy with someone who loved me.

  “Dunk your head under the water,” Emily instructed.

  I did as she asked. The water was hot, but no longer overwhelmingly so. I resurfaced, my hair glistening and wet, and tilted my head back for Emily to wash my hair. She gently pulled all the strands away from my face first, before she lathered them with soap.

  Once she’d rinsed them, I stood and shivered in the open air while I waited for her to towel me dry. After she helped me dress and wound my wrapper around my shoulders and a dry towel around my hair like a turban, she led me away. In my room, which she had neatened in my absence, she helped me into my morning gown and guided me to sit at the vanity.

  Not a word emerged from her lips while she brushed and braided my hair. Only once she’d coiled it atop my head and pinned it there with an inexhaustible supply of hairpins did she step back. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “Perhaps you’d like to go down to breakfast. The servants have laid something out for the early risers.”

  Exhaustion infused me from the crown of my head to the tip of my toes, but I nodded. I emerged from my room into the hallway. An open window facing the east let in the smallest glimmer of sunlight. Water pattered against the glass panes. Daisy’s room was in that direction.

  I strode to the door again, knocking softly. When she didn’t answer, I knocked harder. Nothing, not a peep from within. I tried the knob—it was unlocked.

  Silly girl, I thought to myself. Leaving her door unlocked in a house full of strangers. I opened the door and cast it wide.

  After a moment, my eyes adjusted to the lack of light in the room. Slowly, shapes emerged. The writing desk, the vanity. No lump was in the bed to indicate it was occupied. In fact, the bed was neatly made. Had Daisy already risen? That didn’t sound like her at all.

  I shut the door and meandered to the breakfast room. Mr. Wray, an old scholarly gentleman, sat nursing a cup of tea and a plate of toast. No one else was in the room. I backtracked to search the sitting room. She wasn’t in there, either. No one was.

  Had I missed her? Maybe she’d only risen to use the chamber pot. Why she didn’t use the one in her room, I didn’t know. And she was far from neat; why had she made her bed? I returned upstairs, but she wasn’t in her room when I checked for a second time.

  Bewildered, my heart beating fast, I galloped to Mary’s door to see if Daisy had wandered there. As I raised my fist to knock, a maid emerged from the staircase carrying a tray with a steaming cup of chocolate on it. She inclined her head to me. I barred her path.

  “Have you seen my sister? Miss Daisy Wellesley. She’s blond, like me, with a few freckles over her cheeks.”

  The girl shook her head. “I’m sorry, miss. She hasn’t returned.”

  I recoiled. “Hasn’t returned?” What could that mean? Did she go for an early morning ride?

  The only way she would have done that would be if she had insomnia. But even then, it was unlikely. More likely she would strut through the gardens at midnight.

  The girl shrugged, nearly tipping her tray. “Yes, miss. She departed last evening with her valise and hasn’t returned.”

  Fear clawed at my chest. I couldn’t breathe. The girl tried to move past me. I stepped into her path. She stumbled. The cup slipped from the tray. It shattered on the ground. Brown liquid spilled everywhere, splashing the hem of my gown. I didn’t care. This was about my sister.

  I clasped the girl’s arm. “My sister is gone? Why didn’t anyone inform me of this?”

  “She didn’t leave instructions. You aren’t her chaperone—”

  “Of course I’m her chaperone! I’m her sister.” I didn’t care that I was yelling. My heart pounded like the thunder rumbling around the manor. I thrust away from the girl, making for the stairs. I had to get to the stables. I had to follow her, had to find her—

  “What is going on?” Lady Dunlop descended the stairs from the third level of the house. Her hair was
pinned in curlers to her head, a scarf wrapped around them to preserve them. She clutched a wrapper around her bosom.

  “My sister is missing,” I snapped. “I must find her.”

  Lady Dunlop planted herself in my path. I tried to step around, but she eased her hand onto my elbow. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

  No, she doesn’t. Daisy was the most dramatic, most fickle woman I knew, barring Violet.

  Lady Dunlop said, “Why don’t you go downstairs for a spot of tea and breakfast? We’ll play some games, and she’ll be back before you know it. She can’t go far in this torrent.”

  I shoved the hostess away. “Play some games?” My voice was incensed, livid. I could barely move, I shook so hard. “How do you expect me to play some silly game when my sister is missing? She could have gone anywhere! She might even be dead.”

  “She’s not—”

  “Keep your stupid ideas to yourself, woman. I know what’s best for my sister, even if you do not. And it isn’t to take part in a game.”

  I spun away from Lady Dunlop’s shocked expression. Doors opened all along the hall, as people peeked to witness the commotion. Including Warren’s. My gaze locked with his for a moment. His hair was disheveled, his face slack from sleep. The shadow of his whiskers played around his chin. He was clad only in his breeches, his shirt hanging loose.

  I turned away from him. I didn’t have time to think of last night or the hurt he’d heaped on me. Not while my sister was missing.

  I barreled down the stairs and wrenched open the door to the outside. I sprinted to the stables. My slim heeled shoes weren’t made to withstand the soft mud. I lost precious moments trying to liberate one that popped free of my foot. Sheets of rain poured down, soaking me even before I reached the doors. They were shut. I pounded on them.

  A bleary-eyed stable hand opened the door a crack. “You can’t mean to go out in this.”

  “I can, and I do.” I shoved my way past him, into the barn proper.

  The entire edifice stank of horse manure and straw. Normally, I’d take comfort from the stench, but not today. Gaping from his position by the doorway and rubbing his shoulder where I’d jabbed him with my elbow, the hostler made no move to saddle a horse for me.

  Fine. I’d do it myself.

  A shuttered lantern lit the stables, lending the place a weary glow. The light glinted off the eyes of the steeds housed there. I stamped down the stalls, searching for the gelding that had proven himself worthy of me earlier. I found his stall and turned to locate his tack, likely in another room with the grooming supplies.

  I collided with Warren’s solid chest. He grabbed me by the arms. “Calm yourself.”

  “No.” I wrenched myself free of his hold, stomping to the nearest door to another room. I tried the knob, but it was locked. I snapped my fingers at the hostler. “Open it.”

  “Stop this madness.” Warren insinuated himself between me and the door. I didn’t look him in the eye.

  I shook my head. “I have to find her. If you had a sister, you’d understand.”

  I tried to step around him, but he clasped my shoulders, holding me still. I violently threw him off, not caring if I hurt him.

  “What if it was your cousin?” I asked him. “If she was suddenly missing, out on her own and you had no clue where she’d gone, wouldn’t you move Heaven and Earth to find her?”

  If I expected some measure of sympathy, I was sorely mistaken. His face remained stony, though his voice was gentle as he said, “I know exactly how you feel. But you can’t go after her. She’s a grown woman, she can handle herself.”

  “She is not. She’s only sixteen.” She didn’t know anything about the world or what she would find in it. She didn’t even know anything about the ton.

  Warren stepped closer. He reached for me, but I skittered away.

  “You won’t find her. The rain will have washed away all tracks. She could have gone anywhere.”

  My vision wavered with unshed tears. He was right. What could I do?

  “Lady Dunlop should be helping. She never should have allowed this.”

  No, I couldn’t blame her. Not entirely. I’d been too focused on myself during this party. I hadn’t paid any attention to Daisy at all.

  “You’ll make yourself sick,” Warren warning. “What good will you be to her if you’re dead?”

  My knees weakened. I nearly broke into tears. When he stepped forward to console me, I pushed him away. I took one step, then another out of the stable doors. I refused to let him help me. Not after what he’d done.

  But there had to be someone.

  I marched into the house, tracking mud. I didn’t care, even when the butler protested. I dashed up the steps to the guest rooms above and hammered on Mary’s door.

  She yanked it open. One hand held her hair back in a queue. She swiftly tied a plain ribbon into it as she stepped into the hall. She wore men’s garb—breeches, a shirt, a waistcoat, and a jacket. The shirt was open at the neck. I should be shocked to see her attired in such a way, but I wasn’t. She must have heard.

  “Lady Dunlop is sending riders,” she told me crisply. “I’m going with the servants. We’ll find her.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  She hesitated, searching my face. “You look wan. Tired. Emily,” she called.

  Emily materialized from my room. She gently pulled me away. I quivered, letting her draw me back and wrap her arms around me. From her agonized expression, she was worried, too.

  “Put her in bed,” Mary said, her mouth set in a grim line. “I’ll handle this.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Mary looked haggard. She reached for my hand, but I pulled it away, turning my face into the pillow. Her touch ghosted over my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “What more would you have me do?”

  Tears sprang to my eyes, but I didn’t know how to answer. I wiped them away from the puffy skin ringing my eyes. A day and a night of alternately crying and worrying hadn’t helped much to improve my mood. Normally, when beset by doldrums, I tried to console myself with happy thoughts, lest the heavy, watery feeling on my chest suffocate me. How could I be cheerful with my sister missing?

  I should have done something. I should have looked after her. But no—I’d been too busy looking after myself.

  “The Dunlop carriage was spotted heading north,” Mary repeated for what might be the fifth time. Her only findings. “We’ve posted men along the road to alert us if it comes back, and more have sent word looking for it along the roads north.”

  My head spun. I’d mulled over that fact to such an extent that the information pounded new holes into my head, new headaches. Daisy had left at night, during a storm. Mary and her riders hadn’t found the carriage capsized, but that didn’t mean nothing ill had befallen her.

  Mary sighed. “I’m disappointed in her, too.”

  Disappointed didn’t begin to describe my feelings. She hadn’t given any warning, not even a note. And she’d turned north, not south to London and home. I didn’t know what to think.

  Mary had more than a few ideas, but they all involved Lady Dunlop’s nephew, who was also missing. The cad had convinced her to run away with him. Didn’t she realize the extent this would besmirch her reputation? She’d never be able to find a husband now, if we couldn’t convince the devil to marry her. Surely Lady Dunlop would intervene, make him do the right thing, wouldn’t she? She was an advocate for love, after all.

  Even if this leaned more toward lust than love.

  I wiped my tired, ragged eyes with the back of my hand. They hurt, even to squeeze shut. My head pounded with such ferocity, I nearly bowed over in bed.

  “Won’t you come down?” Francine asked from behind Mary, her voice small. She was worried. So was I.

  Emily perched on the other end of the bed, in plain view. “You haven’t eaten at all since Daisy’s disappearance. Going down to supper could be a good
thing.”

  “And do what?” I shoved myself into a sitting position, but didn’t rise from the bed. I clutched the blankets to my chin. “How can I socialize, act witty and charming, smile, when Daisy is missing?” I shook my head. “I can’t do it.”

  Francine sighed. “If you like, I’ll send you some food up. I hear the cook made pastries with blueberry jam today. I know how you like them.”

  Even the thought of sweets didn’t lure me away. I shook my head. “No, thank you Francine. Maybe I’ll come down to breakfast tomorrow.”

  I had no intention of doing any such thing. Today was the last day of the house party. Tomorrow, everyone would leave. Including me.

  What would Mama say when I returned without her dear, sweet Daisy? My gut twisted as I imagined her reaction. I’d send her into a fit of vapors. With good reason.

  Oh, Daisy. Why did you do this? Don’t you have a care for…anyone?

  Mary and Francine retreated from the room. I murmured something after them, good wishes I suppose, but my spirits didn’t match the sentiment. I sighed, rubbing my temple.

  To Emily, I begged, “Maybe a cup of tea will help?”

  She patted my hand. “And some soup, too? I can have the cook whip up a broth.”

  I almost shook my head, but the pinched expression on her face convinced me not to. She’d done nothing but fuss over me for two days, ever since Daisy’s disappearance. In moments of quiet, she chewed her nails to the quick. She craved some way to help.

  So I inclined my head. With the smallest glimmer of a smile, she backed away and retreated through the door.

  In the doorway, she halted. She stared at something or someone out of my sight, then made a hasty curtsey and trudged down the hall. She forgot the door open. I sighed, stirring to rise and close it.

  Hartfell darkened the doorway.

  I stiffened then gathered the covers, lifting them to my chin. He might have seen my body, but he had no right to view me in my nightgown. Certainly not after I’d been abed ill for these past two days and a night.

  “Shut the door, please,” I announced. I kept my voice stiff, formal, though tears threatened to swamp me again. The pressure in my head mounted. I fixed my gaze on a spot on the wall.