After a moment of silence, the men began to stand and scatter. Annabelle came to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“He’s just a touch anxious,” she said, but her face was worried. “You did wonderfully, dear.”
She hurried through the doors, leaving me alone in the library.
Chapter Six
After a moment of shock, I slowly stood up from the table. Alone in the library, I walked to the nearest shelf of books to take a look at their titles. Running my fingers over the bindings, I walked around the perimeter of the library, savoring the smell of old pages and glue. Many of the books were written in languages I didn’t understand. Did the duke know all of these languages, or did he keep them as a symbol of status? I had never been in the presence of so many books before. They were comforting, and after the disastrous end to my interview, I needed some comfort.
In a corner of the library was a thin spiral staircase leading up to a second level. I put my hand on the filigreed railing and started up the first step when the doors burst open. I whipped around, startled. It was the rat–faced man, Roderick, and he had a sour scowl etched onto his face.
“What are you still doing here?” he hissed. “This isn’t for you. Get out!”
My face flushed a deep red as I scurried past him into the hallway. He shut the door behind me and locked them with a heavy key. He gave me one more irritated glare before turning down the hallway.
My stomach was all knotted. I didn’t know if it was all the rich food I had been eating, or if it was all the excitement of the last few days. Either way, I needed to lie down.
As I approached the second–floor landing, Hazel popped out from around the corner. I had been lost in my own head, and she gave me such a start that I nearly fell back down the stairs. She took my arm and helped steady me.
“Sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to know how it went.”
“Terribly,” I replied as we moved down the hallway.
“Really? You were in there longer than any of us.”
This surprised me. “Was I? There was no clock in there. Wait, were you spying?”
She looked down, ashamed. “We all were, on everyone, trying to figure out who got the most time with the duke. You won, by far.”
We arrived at the door to my room, and I hesitated. “Would you like to come in?” I asked her. “We’ve got time until dinner.”
Her face lit up. “I would love that,” she said.
She followed me inside, and I shut the door behind us, not wanting any of the other girls to burst in.
“Your room is much nicer than mine is,” she said, looking around.
“Is it? I can’t imagine any of these rooms aren’t nice.”
“Oh, my room is nice,” she said, going to the window to look down at the forest. “It’s just that yours is much bigger than mine. And I like the colors better. Mine is this terrible olive shade.”
“Annabelle chose this room for me. She seems to favor me a bit.”
“Of course,” Hazel said faintly as she sat down in the chair by the window. “So, you said your interview went poorly. What happened?”
“Oh, God,” I sighed as I sat down on my bed. “Things were fine at first, although awkward. Jasper was asking what he said were the usual questions. Then he started asking about my father.”
Hazel gave me a questioning look.
“My father passed away only a week ago,” I explained.
“My condolences.”
“Thank you. Then he and the other men got into an argument, and so my interview ended with Jasper stomping off.”
“Ah,” Hazel mused. “We wondered what had happened. We saw the duke storming down the hallway, but we weren’t sure why.”
“I’m sure the others are having a field day speculating,” I muttered.
“Oh, never mind them.”
We sat in silence, then I asked the question that had been nagging at me since earlier that day. “So, Hattie said we are the only two who aren’t aristocracy. How did you end up here?”
Hazel buried her face in her hands. When she pulled them away, I saw she was blushing. “Adam.” The name came out as a long–suffering sigh.
“Adam,” I said, trying to remember. “The young one? The one with the peach fuzz–looking mustache?”
She giggled. “It’s awful, isn’t it? He really should just shave it. Anyway, my family isn’t aristocracy, but they are quite wealthy. We live near Adam’s family, and he and my brother are best friends. I’ve gotten to know him well over the last few years. When he proposed a marriage to the duke, my parents were ecstatic at the suggestion.”
“Not you?”
She shrugged. “It’s not the worst thing, I guess.”
Hazel wouldn’t meet my eyes, and she was playing with the lace on the collar of her dress. She seemed oddly hesitant to keep talking.
“You’re in love with Adam, aren’t you?” I asked gently.
Her face turned a brilliant red. “What? I’m not… what makes you—”
“Hazel,” I prodded.
“Oh,” she moaned as she buried her head in her hands again. “It’s so silly. Just ridiculous. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Really? I think it’s foolish.”
“He’d be lucky to have you.”
She rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t want me. He’s trying to set me up with the duke!”
I didn’t have a good response to that.
When it was time for dinner, the maid I had met before came to summon us.
“I’m Daisy,” the maid greeted me at my door. “It’s about time for dinner, miss. Would you please follow me?”
Hazel and I linked arms as we followed Daisy down the stairs. “Are you all right?” I whispered to her. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward earlier.”
“I always feel awkward,” she said.
Daisy led us through the doors under the stairs, down a hallway, into a spacious dining room. The walls were papered with a damask print on an emerald background, and there was an equally green rug spread underneath the long mahogany table. Hanging from the ceiling was a massive chandelier, its crystals casting rainbows on the dark walls.
Jasper was seated at the head of the table, his men flanking him. I chose the seat beside Annabelle, and Hazel sat next to me. Hazel’s eyes connected with Adam and she lit up, giving him a small wave. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched him wave back. When she looked away, he held his gaze, biting his lip for a moment before shaking his head and turning to face the duke.
Raising his glass in toast, Jasper called the assembly to order, standing strong at the head of the table. “Thank you for coming, everyone.” His words made him sound like he was happy to be there, but his body said otherwise. His knuckles were white as he clutched his glass, and his eyes kept glancing toward the door. I wouldn’t have been terribly surprised if he threw the glass down and stormed out again.
“We’re happy to be here,” Hattie chirped, breaking into a simpering smile. She batted her lashes at him and folded her hands on her lap.
“Yes, well,” Jasper said, clearing his throat. “Although there are far too many people involved in finding me a wife—”
Awkward giggles and chuckles spread around the table.
“I do appreciate everyone’s efforts.”
“You’ve been alone too long!” Hattie exclaimed.
The very old man sitting next to Jasper turned to look at Hattie. “Lady Thorn, I think you’d do well to hold your tongue for the time being.”
“Thank you, Lester,” Jasper said. “For this meal, at least, I don’t want you to be concerned with impressing me. Just relax and be yourselves. Now, are you all ready to eat?”
From the kitchen came an older woman, her dark hair streaked with gray and wrinkles around her eyes. She carried a tray with a shining, basted chicken on it. As the cook began to carve it, the aroma wafted through the air. I
couldn’t even remember the last time I had eaten roasted meat. My mouth watered.
Daisy came up beside her, carrying a smaller tray with bread, butter, and potatoes. She set it down carefully on the table, but as she turned, she bumped into the cook. The hand holding the knife was jerked to the side and plunged into the cook’s arm, and the cook stumbled back, clutching her arm as the knife tumbled to the floor. Blood began to soak into her apron, a scarlet stain seeping farther every second.
Everyone stared in abject horror. A few of them looked slighty green, and I hoped no one would be sick. The cook’s face was rapidly turning white, and she backed into the wall and sank down onto the floor.
I sprang up from my chair and crossed over to her, kneeling to get a better look at her arm. Dark blood was spilling rapidly from the wound.
“It’s quite deep,” I murmured as I looked at it. The cook was covering her eyes with her other hand.
I felt someone behind me, and then Jasper was kneeling next to me.
“Can you dress it?” he asked me.
“Yes,” I told him as I turned the cook’s arm in my hands.
“What do you need?”
“Water, a cloth. A needle and thread.”
“Oh, God,” the cook moaned.
“Some ether would probably be good, too.”
Jasper looked up at Daisy, who had turned almost as pale as the cook. “Go fetch her all of those things. Quickly! Hurry!”
She didn’t speak, just ran out of the room.
“Can you stay with her a moment?” I asked him. He nodded, and I went back out the doors the cook had come through. I was in a kitchen, slightly cramped for how massive the rest of the house was. I made my way to the sink and scrubbed my hands clean. When I returned to the dining room, Daisy had brought everything I had requested. The first thing I grabbed was the ether.
“Hold her head,” I instructed Jasper. He supported the cook while I put a few drops of ether on the cloth. I held it under the cook’s nose, and after a moment her eyes closed.
“Is she alright?” Jasper asked.
“It’ll just make her fuzzy for a few moments. Not very long, though. I didn’t want to give her too much, so I’ve got to hurry.”
I dipped the cloth in the water that Daisy had brought me and slowly dabbed at the wound, trying to clear away the excess blood. Then I threaded the needle. I needed to sterilize it somehow.
As a child, my father would always insist I washed my hands and stay clean, especially if I was helping him with a patient. And when my father was sick, Dr. Taylor was always sure his instruments were clean. It was a lesson I never forgot.
“Daisy, please hand me a candle.”
“A candle, miss?”
“Do as she says, Daisy,” Jasper told her. Daisy picked up a candlestick from the table and handed it to me. I held the needle into the flame for a moment. I had no way to clean the thread, but this would have to do. I held the cook’s cut closed until the needle had cooled, then started stitching.
It was funny; I couldn’t sew to save my life, but I had no problems stitching up wounds. Most of these girls probably couldn’t do that, but could embroider far better than I could ever hope to. Different worlds, I supposed.
I finished my last stitch, and as I wrapped the arm in a bandage, the cook started to come to. Jasper beckoned to his butler to help her to her room. As I sat there on the floor, watching her being taken away, the weight of everything hit me and I slumped against the wall.
“Are you all right?” Jasper asked me.
I nodded. “Yes. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “You did marvelously.” He held his hand out to me, and after a moment of hesitation, I took it. Our skin touched, like a spark of fire surging through my arm. His hand was large and warm and engulfed mine. Once I was on my feet, I regretfully pulled my hand away.
“Oh my God!” Lillian shrieked. “She’s covered in blood!”
I looked down at my dress. She wasn’t wrong. My hands were drenched in it, and plenty had gotten on the front of my dress and even all the way to my skirt.
“I’ll go wash up,” I said.
“I don’t want to eat with her,” said Hattie. “That’s disgusting.”
Lillian and Stella chimed in, agreeing. My face was surely almost as red as my hands. How humiliating. I was ready to argue when Jasper put a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“Why don’t you go up to your room?” Jasper said. “I’ll have Daisy bring you some food.”
“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” Hattie said. I wasn’t a violent person, but I wanted to smack that self–righteous smirk off her face.
“Of course,” I said. “It’s only proper.”
It was unfair, of course. Jasper’s hands were bloody as well, although he hadn’t got nearly as much on his clothes. But he was the man of honor, and I was just a street girl. I would be exiled up to my room while he ate dinner with everyone else, and fell in love with Hattie or Lillian or Stella.
Good riddance. Head down, I left the dining room and went back upstairs. I washed my hands with soap that had little bits of lavender in it, and watched the red water swirling down the sink. I peeled off the dress and draped it over one of the chairs. Perhaps Daisy would know how to get the stains out. I didn’t bother putting on another dress. Instead, I would sleep in my slip. A few minutes after I had sat down, Daisy knocked on the door with my meal. I ate with tears dripping down my face. This time, I didn’t even bother pushing them away. I wasn’t even sure why I was so upset. Did I want to marry the duke? I had no idea. I did want a home to sleep in and food to eat, and if I was turned away, I didn’t even have a chance at that.
After eating, I set the tray outside my bedroom door. When I slipped back inside, I checked to make sure the door was locked tight. After my things had been stolen, I wasn’t taking any chances. I crossed the room to my bed. Fatigue had hit me like a rock, and I could hardly keep my swollen eyes open. I buried myself under the blankets and turned out the lamp.
I had failed. I wasn’t the sort of woman who could marry a duke. I was poor, I was improper. I did things no duchess would ever do.
I cried myself to sleep.
Chapter Seven
I woke up the next morning to the sound of shrieking in the hallway.
“No! You can’t do this to me! Don’t you know who I am?”
I was exhausted and my eyes were still puffy. I reached up to rub them, and my hand came away wet. I had been crying in my sleep. Wiping away the tears, I climbed out of bed to see what the commotion was all about.
Still embarrassed by everything that happened last night, I tried to stay tucked away, only peeking my head out the door. Hattie and Lillian were standing in the hallway, all made up in their dresses. Mr. Potter was doing his best to lead them out, but they were resisting.
“This is an outrage!” Hattie said. “My father will hear about this!”
“Come on now, ladies,” Mr. Potter said, trying to usher them down the stairs. “You knew he could only pick one.”
“He was supposed to pick me!” Hattie shrieked, stomping her feet.
“Shut it! You know he was supposed to pick me!” Lillian said.
“Ladies, you’re being ridiculous,” said Mr. Potter, his face increasingly becoming more panicked. “It’s time for you to go home. All of the other girls have.”
“She hasn’t!” Lillian said, pointing at me.
I retreated into my room, shutting the door behind me. My breathing was fast and my heart was beating wildly. This must be it. The duke had chosen, and it was time to pack my bags.
My bags. That was almost laughable. I had nothing to take with me. The weight of it all was simply too much for me. I sat down on the bed, unsure of what I was supposed to do next. As I was sitting, looking at my hands, the door opened. I glanced up to see Annabelle, with Daniel in her arms.
“Is it time for me to leave?” I asked her.
She looked at me with
surprise. “Leave? Why would you do that?”
I gestured toward the door. “I heard Mr. Potter talking. He was sending a few of the girls home. I assumed that the duke had made his choice and wanted me to leave.”
“The duke wants to see you in the garden,” Annabelle said, a grin pulling at her lips.
“I—what?”
“After breakfast,” she said. As if on cue, Daisy entered with a tray of toast and marmalade. My stomach growled. I hadn’t had much of an appetite after dinner last night. Now that breakfast was in front of me, it was all I could do to resist tearing into it. Forcing myself to eat slowly, I watched Annabelle rifle through the wardrobe. My mind was spinning. Could I really have won the duke’s affections after everything that had happened yesterday? Had he chosen me? Most importantly, did I want to be his bride?
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” I asked her.
“No.”
“Did he choose me?” I was trying very hard to keep my voice steady.
“Well, I’m hardly going to tell you that, am I?” she asked me. She turned away from the wardrobe holding a sky–blue dress with lace trim. “I think this will be perfect,” she said.
I gave up on trying to get any information out of her. I set down my breakfast. My stomach was in knots, and I didn’t think I could eat any more. Instead, I climbed out of bed and took the dress from her. Across the room, Daniel was pounding on the window.
“Daniel, dear, come here please,” Annabelle sighed. He shook his head at her before wandering away.
My hands were unsteady as I pulled the dress on. My mind was spinning in so many different directions, I couldn’t concentrate. My fingers fumbled at the buttons on the dress until Annabelle came over to help. I thought I might vomit.
“Is this a good idea?” I blurted out.
Annabelle turned me around so she was looking into my face. “Christine, don’t you trust me?”
The Wolf's Wife (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 1) Page 6
