Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  He was nothing more than a great lump under the bed linens, and all she could see of him were the sparse tufts of faded red hair that clung to the back of his head. She stood still for a moment to regard him, waiting for him to turn around.

  But it seemed that he had not heard her at all, and was more likely than not, asleep again.

  And so she hurried on into her dressing room and closed the door behind her. She pulled the bell firmly for her maid to be sent up to her and waited.

  As soon as a sense of nervousness began to creep over her, Eliza squashed it. She would not cower before one of the staff; it simply would not do.

  In no time at all, Nella West appeared, a tight smile on her face as always as she immediately set about laying out her mistress’ nightgown.

  “It has been a very fine day today, has it not, Nella?” Eliza said, knowing that she must begin somewhere.

  “Very fine indeed, Your Grace,” Nella said simply.

  “I hope you have managed to enjoy some of it and not been cooped up the whole day, my dear,” Eliza went on and could see by the look on her maid’s face that her conversation was being taken as anything other than casual.

  Nella West was not very much older than Eliza herself at perhaps five and twenty. She was a very small woman, not much taller than a child, with small hands and a face that would have been pretty did she not look so perpetually dissatisfied.

  It was true that Nella had never been anything but polite, but Eliza had come to mistrust her lack of warmth after so many attempts to show her kindness.

  And in her heart, Eliza was absolutely certain now that it was Nella West who had watched her in the woods. But why? What could she possibly gain from it?

  “I do not mind where I work, Your Grace. Inside or outside, it is as good to me,” the maid said evasively.

  “It is only that I rather thought I saw you out by the woods. Did you take a little walk today?”

  “I do hope that I did not do anything wrong in taking some exercise, Your Grace. I did not think that you would need me for a while, and once I’d finished my mending work on one of your gowns, I thought that nobody would mind if I took a little fresh air.”

  “Of course nobody would mind, my dear,” Eliza said and did not believe her maid’s attempt at innocence for a moment.

  Even as Eliza sat at her dressing table and allowed Nella to un-pin and brush her hair, she studied her face in the reflection in the mirror. Nella’s hair was almost jet black and her skin very pale. Her eyes were fiercely blue and stood out brightly, almost disconcertingly.

  Much less than looking crestfallen or as if she had just been dealt a small injustice, Nella West simply looked cold and expressionless.

  It struck Eliza that her maid was not at all a nervous woman. It did not bother her if a great silence opened up and it appeared she found no need to try to fill it with small talk.

  She realized then that that was why she had found the young woman so difficult to warm to, however much she had tried.

  Although she was predominantly blank in her expression, Eliza wondered if the fierce-eyed little maid did not despise her just a little. But what on earth had she done to deserve such a thing? She was sure that she had only ever been polite to Nella and had never made excessive demands of her in terms of her dress and her hair.

  As far as she was aware, Eliza had always shown pleasure and gratitude for her work, so the idea that she was disliked seemed a little unjust.

  Just as Eliza had been about to feel sorry for herself again, she drew in her breath. What did she care if the tiny, disagreeable young woman did not like her? She was here to do a job, and if she did not like it, there were other houses she could work in. Eliza was not going to dance around her any longer.

  “Tell me, why did you follow me into the woods?” Eliza said suddenly, hoping to take Nella West off guard.

  “I went into the woods, Your Grace. But I only went for a walk; I did not follow you.”

  “It seems rather too coincidental to me that you and I be in there at the same time.” Eliza could feel herself wavering a little.

  Nella West was very sure of herself, delivering her lines with quiet confidence and a certain amount of superiority. For an awful moment, Eliza wondered if she were not being just a little over-sensitive herself. Something about Nella’s flat delivery made Eliza feel a little ridiculous.

  “I am afraid I have no answer, Your Grace. I cannot imagine why you think I would follow you.” There was something condescending in the maid’s tone that put Eliza back on her feet again.

  “Perhaps it was the way you ran from me when I saw you. I made haste, my dear, and so I am perfectly well aware that you would have needed to run to make it to the servants’ entrance by the time I broke out of the woods.”

  Nella simply gave a small smile and said nothing as she continued to twist her mistress’ hair into a tight, neat plait.

  “I cannot say that I think very much of your behaviour, Nella. I am the mistress in this house, and I do not care to be followed. If I choose to take a walk in the afternoon, I am perfectly at liberty to do so. I do not like spies, and you would do well to remember it.”

  “And I cannot say that I think very much of a woman who chooses to disrespect her husband with one of his employees.” Nella continued to work on her hair, looking up only once into the mirror to hold Eliza’s gaze firmly.

  “I beg your pardon?” Eliza said, her mouth dropping open; she was absolutely horrified.

  “You went to meet Mr Winchester,” Nella said, and everything seemed to be upside down suddenly.

  Eliza felt as if she were the one being chastised, playing the part of the maid to Nella’s mistress. It was clear to her then that Nella West had gone into the woods with intent.

  She had not simply gone out for a walk and happened to see her mistress talking to Daniel Winchester. She was too bold for something so simple, and Eliza began to realize that far from ever making that young woman her friend, she had very likely only ever been her foe.

  But why? To what end?

  “I spoke with Mr Winchester for nothing more than to ask him to complete a little bit of business for me. He is an attorney after all, and my business was rather urgent,” Eliza said and was proud of the way she had regained her composure. “Not that I should feel any need to explain myself to my maid,” she added for good measure.

  “Whatever you say, Your Grace.” Nella’s determined politeness was beginning to irritate Eliza.

  “How dare you speak to me like that?” Eliza got to her feet and snatched the brush out of her maid’s hand. “Perhaps we would do better apart, Nella. Perhaps you would prefer to return to your job as a maid of all works? I am sure that there are many other young maids, hardworking women, in this house who would jump at the opportunity to be a lady’s maid instead.”

  “You must do what you think right, Your Grace.” Nella fixed her with those dreadful little blue eyes, eyes that Eliza had never realized were so unsettling before. “And I must do what I think is right.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?” The hair on the back of Eliza’s neck stood up, and she realized immediately that she was being issued with a threat, an ultimatum.

  “As much as you might feel the need to return me to my old duties, I might feel the need to seek out His Grace and speak to him about my concerns.”

  “You vile little creature,” Eliza spat angrily. “What right have you to interfere in my life in any way and come up with your own, evil little assumptions? You have simply kept your eye on the main chance in hopes of finding something that you know you can twist quite successfully in your favour. I will never trust you again, Nella. You may have won this time, but I shall watch you very closely in future,” Eliza said unconvincingly, knowing it was nothing more than an empty threat.

  At that moment, she felt like a tiger without teeth. Angry, vehement, and utterly useless. Was there nobody in this dreadful house that she could trust beyond Daniel Winchester
? And, knowing that things would go very badly for them both if this hateful little maid kept her word and approached the Duke, Eliza began to seriously fear the loss of the only friend she had left.

  “You may leave me now; I will finish getting myself ready for bed,” Eliza said and felt utterly defeated.

  “But you will ring the bell for me in the morning, Your Grace?” Nella asked in a sweet and sickly tone that made Eliza despise her all the more.

  “Yes, I will ring the bell for you in the morning.” Eliza sighed and turned her back, not turning around again until she heard the maid leave and close the door behind her.

  As she opened the door to her chamber and peered in at the sleeping body of her husband, Eliza wondered if life could possibly get any worse than it was at that moment.

  Chapter 17

  “Is something wrong, Nella?” Eliza asked crisply some days later when her maid was putting up her hair.

  “Nothing is wrong, Your Grace. I just wanted to fix this piece of hair a little more firmly; it seems to keep coming loose. But not to worry, I shall put some more pins in it.” Nella smiled her customary tight little smile before turning her full attention back upon her mistress’ hair.

  It was as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had changed between them. From the very first morning after Nella’s shocking confrontation, Eliza could see no sign that the two of them had crossed swords at all.

  On her easier days, Eliza began to wonder if it had ever happened. But on the other days, the vast majority of her days, Eliza knew that this small, self-contained woman was capable of absolutely anything.

  Eliza’s first instinct had been to discuss the whole thing with Daniel Winchester. After all, it affected him as much as it affected her. And to be forewarned was to be forearmed surely. But every time she thought to seek him out, something stopped her.

  Eliza knew that she had formed a most unusual relationship with her husband’s attorney, and despite the fact that it was as innocent as the day was long, it was still something that would not be easy to explain to anybody else. Well, not to her husband, at any rate. And apparently not to one of the household staff either.

  Not for the first time, Eliza spent a large part of her day in the dreary old library of Lytton Hall. As much as she had wanted to retreat to the morning room, that sunny, welcoming space, she knew she could not risk it.

  Eliza could not be found there with Daniel Winchester for she knew that it would do neither of them any good. And with Nella as sneaky and shrewd as she appeared to be, Eliza began to wonder if she already knew of their almost daily meetings in the morning room.

  Either way, Eliza did not want to find herself in a trap of her own making, and so she determined to keep to the library for now and not give Nella West any ammunition against her.

  “There, Your Grace, your hair is finished,” Nella said politely, appreciatively surveying her own handiwork.

  “Thank you, Nella,” Eliza said and smiled with false warmth.

  Perhaps, if she did not mention the thing again, it would simply disappear from her maid’s mind. And if she remained as warm and as friendly as ever, perhaps Nella would change her mind about the whole thing and realize that her mistress spoke the truth.

  Eliza knew that she was burying her head in the sand with such comforting thoughts, but she was already certain her maid knew that there was nothing to report concerning her friendship with Daniel Winchester.

  She needed to be ready for whatever it was that Nella West wanted, for her cynical, sensible self told her that it would be coming. If it was simple loyalty to her master, Nella would have already sought an audience with the Duke and told him all about it. No, this was self-interest and nothing more, and Eliza knew that she would have to be ready for the day when Nella’s demand showed itself.

  “Will there be anything else, Your Grace?”

  “No, thank you, Nella,” Eliza said with another full smile that almost hurt her face.

  “Very well.” Nella curtsied primly and disappeared from the room.

  With a sigh, Eliza left her dressing room and made her way back into the chamber she ordinarily shared with her husband. But the Duke was not currently there, having chosen to spend the last two evenings in another chamber altogether.

  He had said very little to her since the day he had chased her through the corridors of Lytton Hall. Certainly, he had never mentioned the incident at all, although Eliza thought that it was his poor state of health which stopped him rather than any rational thought that had overcome him in the days since.

  But he had spoken to her for long enough to suggest that his current malady might well keep her awake through the night. Initially, Eliza had been a little taken aback by his seeming selflessness until he said that he could not stretch out comfortably with her there either.

  But whether it was selflessness or selfishness, Eliza cared little. She was grateful for the opportunity to lie in her bed without her husband laying next to her, snoring and smelling of stale brandy, tobacco, and any one of a dozen other odours she could not identify. It was a relief, and she would make the most of it as long as it lasted.

  Nevertheless, Eliza knew that it would not do to leave her husband languishing in a room without visiting him at all. And when it came to the Duke of Lytton, it was not even duty which would lead her to enquire after his well-being, but rather it was self-preservation.

  She needed everything that had passed between them on that dreadful day to be forgotten if she was to have any hope of a little peace in her life. It was clear that happiness was going to evade her, but after the dreadful events of that awful argument, Eliza was still in a frame of mind where simple safety would do just as well.

  Eliza had decided to visit her husband before she went down to take her breakfast. That way she would have it over with and could relax a little and eat properly for once, not having to give in to uncertainty or nerves.

  She stood outside the door to the chamber where he lay and took a deep breath. She hoped that he was not asleep for she wanted him to acknowledge her effort, her presence. But if he was asleep, she would not want to wake him, not given the unpredictability of his every mood.

  Eliza tapped lightly on the door and immediately began to open it. She stepped in noiselessly, closed the door behind her before turning to look at him in the bed.

  Augustus was lying on his back, his immense, hard belly jutting up from the crisp white bed sheets like an iceberg rising from the ocean. His mouth was open, and as if to confirm her worst fears, he was snoring and clearly asleep.

  Undeterred, Eliza continued to move silently into the room, stopping only at his bedside. When he still did not murmur, she gently sat herself down on the edge of his bed. The movement was only slight, but it was enough to wake him from his slumber.

  “What?” he said through lips which appeared to be somewhat puffy and darker than normal.

  He blinked rapidly as if trying to focus on a world he no longer understood, and Eliza stared at him for a moment and realized that she had never seen him look quite as unwell as he did at that moment.

  It was true that he had never been easily described as a fine figure of a man at any time throughout their marriage, but now he truly looked ill, and Eliza felt that old, unwelcome stab of pity as she looked down at him.

  “Forgive me, Augustus, I did not mean to wake you,” Eliza said and forgave herself the little lie.

  “What are you doing here, Eliza?” he spoke breathlessly as if he had just undertaken some rigorous physical activity and stopped only to speak to her.

  “I see you have not yet been delivered any breakfast, Augustus. Are you hungry?” Eliza wanted to keep the conversation out of the argumentative and so decided not to try to appease him with an answer to his question.