Nathan stood and walked to the end of the room where a heavy cabinet stood in the corner. He picked up one of the thick glasses that sat on top of the liquor tray that rested there. He motioned to Alec.
"At only midday?" Alec said.
Nathan only shrugged.
"I will keep asking after your wife."
Alec waved a hand at him.
"Yes, all right then."
Nathan poured each of them a glass before returning to Alec. This time he took the chair that Nora had occupied so briefly.
"So things with the lady wife are going well?"
Alec answered after taking a sip from his drink.
"The things with the lady wife are going no where at all."
Nathan swirled his drink, having yet to take a sip.
"You mean to tell me that you had not swept her off her feet by the time I came through the door?"
Alec gave him a look that clearly questioned his intelligence.
"It is quite more complicated than that."
Nathan reached over and set a hand on Alec's knee. It was a gesture he had made a thousand times when they were boys. Nathan may have been the older brother, but Alec was usually the one who did the comforting. There was something about Alec's casual confidence that led him naturally to support his sometimes cautious older brother. But there were the few times when Nathan made the gesture as he did now.
"What is it that has her so angry with you?" Nathan asked, and Alec finally looked at him.
There was emptiness in his eyes. Blank slates that yearned for answers. Nathan recognized the look he had seen on his own face far too many times when he had looked in the mirror.
"Perhaps Father will know what to do. He did eventually convince Jane to marry him, and we all doubted that would happen. You know, after..."
He let the sentence trail off, knowing Alec would understand to what he referred. And he saw the understanding cloud his brother's gaze.
"Perhaps," was all he said.
~
Nora watched as a line of maids hauled buckets of steaming water one by one through the narrow door of the sitting room. She only thought how fortunate it was that they did not have to carry the buckets all the way into the dressing room across the chamber. She doubted some of the smaller maids would have made it so far with such a heavy load. Nora had tried to help only once, and upon receiving a slap on her hand - literally, the Duchess of Lofton slapped her - Nora refrained from trying to help.
It was a quite difficult task for as Lady Stryden, or Sarah rather, led her deeper into the bowels of what she was learning was called Stryden Place she began to feel more and more out of sorts. She longed for a chambermaid to instruct or Hawkins to placate or Samuel to smile at her and make her forget everything that surrounded her. If only Samuel were there, she would not have left Gregenden House and the only life she ever knew. She would not now be wondering what was happening to her son and worse, how she was to care for him when Nathan brought him back to her.
As everything welled up inside her, Nora would have settled for a mere rag and something to dust if only to distract her dangerously tilting mind.
But with each step they climbed up to the family's main living quarters, Nora found herself being pulled further into the conversation between Jane and Sarah. Sarah ordered a bath from a maid descending the second floor staircase while Jane requested a tray of sandwiches. Surely, Nora could not be expected to try on gowns without refreshment. A footman was sent to fetch the countess's lady's maid to freshen the gowns that Sarah kept at Stryden Place. And when they finally stopped climbing Nora thought they most certainly were higher than the dome of St. Paul's. At least, she was winded enough to feel like it were true.
And now there she was, watching maid after maid haul water to a steaming bath big enough for an entire ballet troupe. And Nora was truly expected to bathe in it alone? A sudden image of Nathan flashed in her mind, and she physically choked, bringing the attention of Jane.
"There, there, Nora," Jane said, coming to her and patting her delicately on the back, "The boys will figure this all out, and Samuel will be back to you in no time. I assure you, darling."
Nora had never been touched so much in her entire life, let alone touched out of comfort. If she had been choking before, she had stopped breathing now. She almost could not stand everyone being so nice to her. If one more person, so much as expressed their sorrow, she was sure she would dissolve into the floor where she stood.
But that would soil the fine carpet beneath her shoes. The Floral Room, as Sarah had called it was opulent if it were anything. Nora stood as still as Hawkins in a musicale in the very center of the room, keeping her worn cloak and soiled uniform from touching so much as a table. She gazed at the delicate furniture with its intricate carved lattices and polished handles. The drapes were divine and of such quality that Nora pondered how the maids cleaned them without damaging the fine cloth. The covers of the bed were lush in deep purple tones with pockets of pure white. She longed to lie down, bury herself in its luxuriousness and forget that her son was missing, that she no longer had a home or employ, that she was falling in love with a spy.
"We will give you some privacy," Jane said then, scuttling past her. "But only for a brief time. There is much to be done, and Richard will likely be here soon."
Sarah approached her with a stack of fluffy towels. It took Nora an entire moment to realize the decadent towels were for her. She accepted them haltingly.
"Do not listen to the woman. Enjoy yourself," the countess said with a wink.
And Nora was sure she did dissolve into the floor.
When the door closed behind the pair, Nora still did not move. It was too surreal. It was too unfamiliar. It was too...unlikely. But just as Nathan had told her to pack, these women had told her to bathe.
She quickly set down the towels on the nearest chair and began stripping her clothes off. First the cloak, then her apron, then her gown. She was careful to fold the exposed sides of her uniform inward to keep the dirt and dust from spreading into the room. She tucked the bundle of clothes away and gingerly approached the steaming tub.
Soaps of varying colors and sizes and smells were laid out on a tray by the tub. Various vials of oils were also displayed by the tray, and Nora wondered what they were used for. She picked up one of the vials and studied the liquid inside of it as it moved back and forth against the glass. Was this how the women of the ton smelled so delightful? Nora wondered what Nathan would think of her if she came back smelling like a bouquet of peonies? What would she think if she smelled thusly?
Nora set the vial back down and approached the tub directly, carefully placing one foot and then the other into the resplendent bath water. Her muscles flexed at the sudden heat before spooling away in relief, unwinding her very core until she was fully relaxed in the water.
And then she let her mind drift. But the warmth of the water or silkiness of the bath oil or the aroma of the soaps, something invaded her senses, and her mind was nothing but a blankness that left her in a cocoon of simple peace. She stayed there for as long as she dared. She stayed there until the skin of her fingers began to pucker from the water, and she feared the water would grow too cold before she had truly completed bathing. She stirred, reluctantly, pulling her head up from where it rested against the rim of the tub.
Reaching her hand over the edge of the tub, she randomly selected a bar of soap from the small table and drew it to her nose. It smelled like something floral, but having never had an occasion to bath in such finery, Nora could not give the scent a name. She dipped the bar into the water and began to scrub years of dirt and dust from her skin. With one swipe of the soap, she felt it pull away at everything she had been carrying. The loss of her parents that she had never truly known. The years spent as a forgotten child in Aunt Martha's home. The courageous and terrifying trip to London when she was only a young girl to find work. Samuel.
Oh god, Samuel, she thought, and broke at t
he image of him as a toddler, an unexpected joy that had been brought into her life.
She kept pushing the soap along her skin, scrubbing harder as she went as if by scrubbing she could rid her body of all of it. The work, the neglect, the unexpected. But she would not wash away Samuel. Samuel she clung to, held him against her breast and savored the knowledge that Nathan would bring him back.
Nora set the soap aside and reached for a vial of the oil. Working her hair loose from its braid, she wet the strands before coating them in the scented oil. She indulged and spent precious minutes just massaging her scalp. It felt divine and ridiculous, and she hoped that no one would ever find out that she had been so hedonistic.
Rinsing her hair thoroughly, she wrung the excess water from the thick strands and stood, water now cool sloshing in the tub about her legs. She paused as the ripples of water lapped at her knees, and for the first time in a very long time, perhaps ever, Nora looked at her naked body. She was too thin, she could admit that. Her knees stuck out as if her legs each had its own nose. A bulbous one at that. Her ribs were visible beneath her small breasts, and her arms were just elbows and skin. She wondered what Nathan would think should he ever see her like this. He would probably not find much to be intrigued about, and this made her sad. The feeling made her pause, the water continuing to run off her skin. She had never expected to feel sadness over something so trivial. And it was not as if Nathan Black were ever going to see her in such a state.
As gooseflesh sprouted on her skin, she stepped from the tub and picked up one of the lush towels she had admired earlier. Wrapping herself in it, she used another to carefully dry her hair. Once she was done, she stood with one towel wrapped around her, the other hanging from her hand.
What was she supposed to do?
It was not as if she could peek into the hallway and summon the duchess and countess looking like this. And to think her, Eleanora Quinton, would be summoning anyone? So she did what anyone would have done to summon her.
She walked to the corner and tugged on the braided bell pull.
The door to the hall opened almost immediately, and a whirlwind of maids rushed into the room. Nora had not been prepared for such an instantaneous response, and she backed up involuntarily, clutching the towel to her chest.
"Lavender is a lovely color for any young woman," Jane said as she swept into the room behind the Countess of Stryden.
"With her hair? Surely not, Jane. She needs to be put in green," Sarah returned.
It was several moments before Nora realized they were speaking of her.
"I beg your pardon," she said, and it was as if she had screamed it as everyone in the room stopped.
The maids hovered over the tub, their hands filled with unused soaps and vials and towels. Sarah stood at the other side of the chamber, her hand on the frame of the dressing room door. Jane had stopped in the middle of it all, one arm outstretched as if to make a grand address.
"What about red?" Nora asked, not certain where the notion had come from nor the courage to say it out loud.
Jane lowered her outstretched arm. Sarah pursed her lips, one slender finger tapping on the door frame.
"Red would be divine with that chestnut hair you were mentioning," Jane said in Sarah's general direction.
Sarah straightened away from the door, brushing one hand against her forehead as if an invisible piece of her golden blonde hair had come loose from its chignon.
"I believe I have something that may work," she said, disappearing into the dressing room, a maid close on her heels.
"My lady-" Nora heard the maid say before both women disappeared.
Nora turned her attention back to Jane and found the older woman smiling at her.
"This was not what you expected when you awoke this morning, was it, Miss Quinton?"
Nora shook her head.
"No, it is-"
She stopped mid-sentence, jumping slightly as a maid touched her arm. There were two of them, and they were pushing her in the direction of a dressing table in the opposite corner of the room from where she stood. They pushed her onto the stool before the dressing table and began to work on her hair, running the locks through a dry towel.
Sarah suddenly emerged from the dressing room with a chattering maid behind her.
"Are you certain, my lady, that that particularly gown would be completely appropriate-"
Sarah stopped in front of her, her hands behind her back.
"How is this?" she said, her hands springing from behind her back, a gown strung between her outstretched hands.
Nora looked at Jane.
Jane looked at Nora.
"Well, at least no one will believe I am a maid," Nora said.
CHAPTER TEN
Nathan stood as his father entered the drawing room. He had not altered his position from the moment someone had been sent to find the Duke of Lofton, and the sudden movement made him realize how tense he was.
"A kidnapping?" Richard said by way of introduction.
"Appears so," Alec said, rising from the sofa to pull the bell cord for Reynolds.
Reynolds appeared as Richard removed his hat and gloves.
"A fresh tea cart," Alec said to the butler, who nodded and left just as quickly as he had come.
"Have you briefed Jane?" Richard asked then.
Nathan shook his head.
"We were waiting for you. And the ladies are...well..."
He looked to Alec for assistance.
"I believe the ladies are orchestrating a type of rouse as we speak," Alec finished.
"Ladies?"
Now Alec turned away, walking to the front of the room to stare out the window at the passing traffic.
Richard turned and looked at his other son. Nathan only nodded.
"I see. How is the lady countess?" Richard said, taking a seat on the sofa Alec had just vacated.
"Lovely as always," Alec muttered.
"And what sort of rouse are the ladies concocting?" Richard asked.
Nathan resumed his seat.
"One of camouflage. I believe they are preparing Miss Quinton to appear as a lady and not a servant."
"Miss Quinton is with you then?" Richard raised an eyebrow.
"Of course," Nathan responded automatically, not enjoying his father's questioning expression. "Miss Quinton is obviously in danger. I was not going to leave her unprotected."
"A wise decision," Richard said, "And I am certain Jane was delighted to partake in any endeavor that involved couture."
"It was Sarah's idea actually," Alec muttered from the window.
Richard raised the other eyebrow.
"Ah, Lady Strdyen then. Interesting," he looked back at Nathan, "And when can we expect the other half of our party to join us."
"Promptly, your grace," came Jane's voice from the doorway.
Nathan stood automatically, turning to face the door. And then he froze.
Alec's laughter filtered into his muddled mind.
"Well, this certainly makes me feel better about my own situation," he mumbled.
But Nathan was truly not hearing anything.
Nora stood outlined in the doorway from the corridor. While Sarah and Jane had entered the room to join Richard and Nathan in the sitting area, Nora stayed where she was as Nathan outwardly perused her appearance. Her hair was luscious and glowing, swept up in a mass of braids that he was sure would not come as easily undone as her simple maid's style had. Her face was clean of any rice powder and glowed with a warmth he had not seen before. The brown of her eyes was magnified by the red hues of her hair.
And her gown.
Her gown was...magnificent. Whatever the fabric, it was a deep crimson with long sleeves that puffed at the shoulders, making her look regal and capable. The high waist of the gown suddenly gave her a bosom that Nathan admired very much. Some sort of gold ribbon framed the plunging neckline, and his eyes traveled the length of it up to her shoulders and back to her face.
But h
is eyes darted down once more to her hands.
She wore no gloves.
He wanted to reach out and take her hands into his own. To feel her skin against his.
He wanted to care for her more now than ever. In everyday attire, she looked like a woman most suitable to be his wife, but with this thought came another. He could not care for her. His gaze drifted quickly to Jane and back, memories of a time long ago stinging with an intensity that would not fade.
Nathan stepped aside and gestured for Nora to sit, unable to say anything at that moment.
Richard stepped forward, blocking her entrance, and the movement broke Nathan from whatever trance had enveloped him when Nora had come into the room.
"Miss Quinton, I believe," Richard said, as he bowed to Nora, "It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. People have much to say about you. I am very sorry to hear about your son, but I assure you that we will do everything necessary to resolve the matter quickly."
"What he is trying to say is do not fret," Jane said from where she had taken a seat on the sofa behind him.
"Precisely," Richard affirmed, stepping aside so Nora could take the place next to Jane on the sofa.
With a fresh tea cart arriving promptly, the discussion quickly turned to the matter at hand, and Nathan forced himself to focus and not stare at Nora transformed.
"So what is it we know about the situation?" Richard began.
"Nothing. Or next to nothing," Nathan said, "There were three big men and one smaller one, which I suspect was a woman with red hair. He was taken from behind Gregenden House by the stables. There was no carriage waiting, but that does not mean there was not one further down the alley. I found this." Nathan drew the four of clubs from his pocket and held it up. "I am assuming Samuel dropped it as right before he was taken I was teaching him how to play poker."
Jane made a tsking noise in his general direction but otherwise did not comment.
"The four of clubs. Like the gaming hell?" Sarah asked.
Alec and Nathan both looked at her.
"The gaming hell?" Alec nearly screeched. "What do you know about a gaming hell called The Four of Clubs?"
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