Betsey sat on her narrow bed, sewing by the early morning light shining through the window. She had always woken early, and Lady Paulina slept late, much like the rest of the gentry.
While the Earl and his daughter slept, the rest of the household buzzed with activity—servants in the kitchen prepared breakfast, chamber maids opened curtains and dusted in the common rooms of the house. Outside, stable boys brushed the horses and mucked out their stables, while grooms and coachmen prepared the carriage in case the master should need it.
The household was a complex organism, with many layers of activity happening all at once, most of them invisible to the outside observer. Betsey enjoyed being a part of this, more than she had expected to. She found it fascinating how the seemingly simple tasks performed by each member of the household worked in tandem with the others.
If one task was left undone, it could create ripples that would spread outward to affect the entire household. Mrs. Campbell, the housekeeper, had a remarkable ability to anticipate these ripples and reassign members of the staff to minimize them. This meant that Betsey had, from time to time, acted as her assistant when Lady Paulina was occupied with her music or dancing lessons.
Betsey considered what adjustments might need to be made today, as she continued to mend the hem of Lady Paulina’s petticoat. Her stitches were tiny and perfectly even. It had taken her some time to perfect this skill, but she was able to mend most things without any visible signs now. Lady Paulina was particular about her clothes, as most noblewomen were, so this was an important skill.
When Betsey entered the kitchen an hour later, the mending was complete and Lady Paulina was still asleep. Betsey ate her breakfast quickly; a simple porridge, sweetened with just a touch of honey—a luxury for a servant.
“Thank you, Mrs. Latham,” she said to the cook. “The porridge is particularly delicious this morning.”
“You’re welcome, Betsey.” Mrs. Latham winked at her, “You are very sweet.”
Betsey smiled back at her as she ate her porridge. Mrs. Campbell, the housekeeper, had always been kind to her, saying that Betsey reminded her of her own grown daughter who had married and moved away. Mrs. Latham and the other older women of the staff had followed suit. Betsey was pleased to have a mother figure in Mrs. Campbell, and she thought of Mrs. Latham and her kitchen staff as kind aunties.
Her own parents lived in the village where Betsey had grown up, and she did not have much opportunity to see them, though they wrote to one another somewhat regularly. In addition to Mrs. Campbell’s maternal affection, she also had her older brother, Simon. He had started out as a footman several years ago, and was now the Earl’s personal valet.
In truth, Simon was her half-brother. His mother had died when he was four years old, and his father had married Betsey’s mother soon after. She had never thought of him as anything other than her full brother though, and for as long as Betsey could remember, Simon had doted on her.
Soon after he started working at the estate, he had encouraged Mrs. Campbell to hire Betsey as a chamber maid. As the Earl’s personal valet he had a certain degree of influence among the household staff, and when Lady Paulina had needed a new lady’s maid, Simon had suggested that his sister ought to be promoted.
Simon entered the kitchen as Betsey was eating and Mrs. Latham handed him his own bowl of porridge.
“Thank you kindly, Mrs. Latham—you do make the best porridge!” he said, sitting down across from Betsey at the kitchen table.
“All right, Simon, that’s enough flattery, now eat up,” Mrs. Latham sounded exasperated, but Betsey saw her smirk as she turned back to the hearth.
“Is Lady Paulina looking forward to meeting the Viscount of Somerwich today?” Simon asked his sister.
Betsey paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to answer this question. “Well, she knows nothing of the Viscount, except that his father and hers are political rivals, so she is unsure of what to expect.”
“Perhaps they need not be rivals for long.”
“Oh?” Betsy raised an eyebrow as she looked at her brother.
“If today’s meeting goes well, the Earl plans to marry Lady Paulina to the Viscount.”
“Yes, I had assumed that was the purpose of today’s meeting.”
“And if they are married, then her father and the Earl of Hillfield will be family. Eventually they will share grandchildren,” Simon explained.
“I see,” Betsey was beginning to understand. “Is there anything in particular the Earl hopes to gain from this family connection?”
“Well, I cannot be certain of that, but the Earl is a smart gentleman,” Simon sounded reverential—he had always talked admiringly of the Earl. “No doubt he will think of something when the time comes.”
Betsey did not doubt that this was true. The Earl seemed to have a way of turning any situation to his advantage. In fact, he had contrived more than once to get Betsey alone in an empty room, hoping to take advantage of those situations as well. So far, she had been able to escape with no more than a lewd comment, thanks to some tricks she had learned from the other maids.
“Hmm…” Betsey sighed, “I suppose it will all depend on Lady Paulina then.”
“I suppose so,” Simon agreed, sounding unconcerned. “But Lady Paulina knows the importance of doing as her father says, and the Viscount is not old, or ugly. I see no reason why she should object.”
Two hours later, Betsey stood in Lady Paulina’s room, helping her mistress into a pale blue, silk gown. Her fingers worked deftly as she adjusted the laces.
“This color is lovely on you, My Lady,” Betsey said, looking over Lady Paulina’s shoulder at her reflection in the looking glass.
Lady Paulina tilted her head this way and that, examining her reflection. She caught Betsey’s eye in the mirror and smiled at her. “Thank you, at the risk of sounding immodest, I must say that I agree with you.”
Betsey and Lady Paulina laughed together good-naturedly as Betsey began to arrange Lady Paulina’s hair. She had been surprised to find, upon becoming Lady Paulina’s maid, that she quite liked her mistress. They laughed often, and Lady Paulina confided in Betsey.
“Are you looking forward to meeting the Viscount of Somerwich today, My Lady?” Betsey asked, her voice tentative.
“I suppose I ought to give him a chance,” Lady Paulina sounded resigned. “Perhaps he is handsome and charming.”
“Perhaps he is, My Lady. But he is not…”
“No, he is not,” Lady Paulina said firmly. “But I must still meet with him, so I might as well hope for the best.”
“That’s the spirit, My Lady.”
“Of course, his father has a terrible reputation,” Lady Paulina mused. “Papa says that the Earl of Hillfield is not to be trusted around the serving girls, but perhaps the son is a different sort of character.”
Betsey pursed her lips and said nothing as she continued to style her mistress’s hair. Perhaps it was true that the Earl of Hillfield had a bad reputation, but she doubted it was any worse than that of the Earl of Cublertone.
“On the other hand,” Lady Paulina continued, absent-mindedly, “Papa might just be saying that to discredit Hillfield—they are so often at odds in Parliament.”
“Hmm…” Betsey said, considering her words carefully. “Do you think that your meeting with the Viscount could have anything to do with that?”
“Well,” Lady Paulina said, turning away from the mirror, “Papa has not said so yet, but I am quite sure he wants me to marry the Viscount. Perhaps he thinks we shall fall madly in love at our meeting today, but I doubt he would consider that important.”
“You would not be the first Lady to make a marriage for political gain, rather than for love. I’m quite sure that many happy marriages start that way.”
“That is true,” Lady Paulina agreed. “No doubt many unhappy marriages have started that way as well.”
“I suppose so, My Lady.”
“Well, there’s no use
worrying about that now. If the Viscount proves to be a boar at our meeting, then I shall just have to convince Papa to change his plans.”
Lady Paulina sounded confident that she would be able to change her father’s mind, but Betsey was not so sure that this would be possible. The Earl had always doted on his daughter—she was his only child, and all that was left to him since her mother had died ten years ago. Still, he was an ambitious gentleman who was accustomed to getting his own way, and Lady Paulina rarely defied him.
Michael Calford, Viscount of Somerwich, rode in the back of his family’s carriage toward the Cublertone estate. At thirty years of age, he could hardly put off marriage any longer, though he did not relish the prospect. He would have been content to live out his years as a bachelor, but as the only son of an Earl it was his responsibility to provide an heir to his family’s estate.
His mother was nearly hysterical with worry about finding a suitable wife for her son. She had been searching for a well-bred young lady who would make her son happy. When she had suggested the daughter of the Earl of Cublertone, her husband had seen an opportunity to make an ally out of a formal political rival.
Michael cared little for his father’s political ambitions, but he did love his parents and wished to please them. Lady Paulina had made her debut last season, and Michael had heard that she was beautiful and well-mannered. He had not heard anything about whether she was clever or interesting, but then, most gentlemen cared little for those qualities.
Michael sighed deeply as he looked out of the carriage window at the rolling hills as he passed them by. Just because no one had said that Lady Paulina was clever and interesting did not mean that she was not. And besides, I have clever and interesting friends—perhaps all I need is a beautiful and well-mannered wife.
A quarter of an hour later, the carriage pulled up in front of the Cublertone’s estate, and the driver opened the door for Michael. He stepped down from the carriage, stretching his long legs after the cramped ride.
The Earl of Cublertone and his daughter were standing in the front garden, waiting to greet him. Lady Paulina was lovely in a gown of pale blue silk. Her blonde hair was arranged in clusters of curls framing her pretty face.
“Welcome to Cublertone, My Lord,” the Earl said, greeting Michael warmly.
“Thank you, My Lord.”
“May I present my daughter, the Lady Paulina Manning.”
Michael turned to Lady Paulina and bowed slightly. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, My Lady,” he said, giving her what he hoped was a winning smile.
“The pleasure is mine, My Lord,” Lady Paulina said, curtseying to her guest.
Once the introductions had been completed, the Earl invited Michael inside, and led them to the drawing room.
Michael sat down on a comfortable loveseat, and looked around the room. As the Lady of the house, the Earl’s daughter had likely chosen at least some of the décor, which he found to be pleasant and welcoming. As he looked at the burgundy velvet curtains, Michael was beginning to feel that this match might be more successful than he had initially expected.
After a few minutes of talk, the Earl rang for a maid. When she entered the room with a curtsey he said, “Please bring some tea for Lady Paulina and the Viscount of Somerwich. And send in Lady Paulina’s maid.”
“Yes, My Lord,” the maid said, curtseying as she left the room.
“My apologies, but I will need to return to my study before your visit is concluded. Lady Paulina’s maid will act as your chaperone when I do.”
“No need to apologize, My Lord,” Michael replied. “I understand perfectly well.”
A moment later, a dark-haired young woman entered the drawing room. She wore a simple gray gown, finer than that of a chamber maid, and Michael knew that she must be Lady Paulina’s maid. She was taller than her Lady, but still several inches shorter than himself. Her pale skin was luminous, and her golden brown eyes sparkled, suggesting a lively, curious personality.
The maid had seen him looking, and her pale cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. She turned away from him and sat in a small chair in the corner of the room. The maid produced an embroidery hoop from some unknown location and focused on her needlework. Michael realized that he had been staring at her, and turned his attention back to Lady Paulina. I did not come here to look at pretty maids, I am here to meet with the pretty Lady sitting next to me.
Betsey sat on a hard, wooden chair in the corner of the drawing room. Her role was clear—she was to remain present at all times as a chaperone, but she should make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She felt certain that the Viscount had been looking at her for longer than was entirely proper, but she could see no reason why.
Lady Paulina looked particularly beautiful today—Betsey had seen to that. There was no reason for any gentleman, regardless of his social status, to look at a maid when Lady Paulina was in the room. Perhaps I only imagined that he was looking at me. Betsey focused on her needlework while Lady Paulina and the Viscount talked.
Betsey could not help but notice that they made a handsome couple. The Viscount was tall and broad-shouldered, with golden blond hair, and deep blue eyes. His face was angular and smooth, but managed to still be warm and inviting. Betsey tried, and failed, to ignore his full, soft-looking lips.
Betsey returned her attention to her needlework. She was embroidering a delicate floral pattern on the corner of Lady Paulina’s handkerchief, and she forced her mind to focus on each stitch as she worked, rather than on the Viscount’s handsome form.
The two young aristocrats were talking amiably enough, though Betsey sensed no great passion between them. Of course, that is hardly surprising—Lady Paulina’s heart belongs to another.
“Do you enjoy riding, My Lady?” The Viscount asked.
“Oh, yes, My Lord. Do you enjoy it?”
“I do,” the Viscount looked at Lady Paulina expectantly, as though he hoped she might say more on the subject. When she remained silent he said, “Do you get the chance to ride often?”
“Yes, My Lord, although I fear that I am not as skilled as you are.”
“What do you mean, My Lady?”
“Oh!” Lady Paulina hesitated for a moment, and then said awkwardly, “Only that I have heard you are a particularly good rider, and that your father keeps an impressive stable.”
“Oh, I see. Yes, I suppose my father’s stables are quite impressive. Perhaps you could come and see them some time. We could go riding together.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Lady Paulina said sweetly. “I’m sure that would be quite lovely.”
“Next week perhaps, My Lady?”
“Yes, My Lord, thank you.”
Betsey allowed their conversation to wash over her as she continued her needlework. She could hardly call Lady Paulina a friend, given the difference in the social status, but she liked her mistress very much, and Lady Paulina confided in her. Betsey wanted Lady Paulina to be happy, and she knew that a lifetime of stilted conversations with the Viscount of Somerwich would not make her happy.
Perhaps if Lady Paulina had not been enamored by another gentleman, she might find the Viscount more appealing. Betsey certainly thought he was doing his best to be charming. In addition to his charm, he was exceptionally handsome. Most young ladies must go mad at the sight of him—perhaps Lady Paulina is the first to be immune to his charms.
The conversation between Lady Paulina and the Viscount continued in the same way for another quarter of an hour. Then the Viscount suggested that they take a stroll in the gardens, since the weather was so fine. Lady Paulina seemed relieved by this suggestion.
“Yes, that sounds lovely,” she said with a sigh. “Betsey, would you please fetch our cloaks, and accompany us on our walk?”
“Yes, My Lady,” she said, curtsying to Lady Paulina and her father and then to the Viscount.
She had been gone for only a minute, and when she returned to the drawing room, Betsey found Lady Paulina and t
he Viscount sitting next to one another in silence. Neither of the young people seemed uncomfortable with this arrangement, but the Earl was looking concerned.
“Well,” the Earl said. “Please enjoy your walk in the grounds. I must return to my study now.”
“Thank you, My Lord,” the Viscount of Somerwich said. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
The Viscount helped Lady Paulina into her cloak, acting like a perfect gentleman, before putting on his own. Betsey wrapped a large knitted shawl around her own shoulders and followed the others out into the grounds for their walk.
The afternoon air was brisk and refreshing. Betsey pulled the shawl tighter around herself as she walked several paces behind Lady Paulina and the Viscount. As their chaperone it was important that she keep them in her sight, but also give them enough space to speak freely to one another. Though it seems there is little chance of that.
Betsey breathed in the fresh air, and looked up at the bright blue sky. The grounds at Cublertone Manor were beautifully kept, but Betsey had little opportunity to enjoy them. So when she escorted Lady Paulina on her occasional walks, Betsey loved to smell the flowers, and admire the perfectly manicured lawns.
Today she was enjoying the smell of the roses blooming along the edge of the house. The dark red flowers were vivid against the white stone background, and Betsey imagined all of the work that been done to create such a beautiful sight. The gardener, Mr. Lewis, was meticulous about his work, just as Mrs. Campbell was about her work on the inside of the house.
Lady Paulina and the Viscount walked through a garden like this and might think that it was pretty, and then forget about it mere seconds later. As the Lady of the house, Lady Paulina had some input into hiring and managing household servants, and perhaps the Viscount did as well in his own household. But Betsey did not believe that either of them could truly understand how much time, and thought, and work went into each detail, each rose.
“Thank you for a lovely visit, My Lady,” the Viscount was saying to Lady Paulina as Betsey approached.
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