He clamped his hands around her shoulders and roughly pushed her back. “When Rebecca was alive, I never had a say in the activities around this place because you were her servants. I’m in charge now, and the work will be done during the day! If you do not agree with my rules, you are welcome to leave. I’m quite certain my new servants will be agreeable to my demands.” He narrowed his gaze on Toppy. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Indeed. Very clear, Sir.”
Cole quickly continued, “And let the others know of these rules.”
Adora moved closer to him again and placed her hand on his cheek. “Cole, darling, why are you so upset? Is it because Rebecca’s daughter is here?”
He gave her a sharp look. “Have you forgotten that I don’t want you being so personal with my given name?”
She arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t mind it before.”
“That’s because it was Rebecca’s wish. However, now that she is gone, things will change around this house, and if you don’t like them, you may leave immediately.” He took a deep breath and slowly released. “And about Rebecca’s daughter,” he pointed to the floor, since Vicky’s room was right below them, “that innocent girl has no idea what’s going on up here on the third floor, and I’d like to keep it that way, especially since I forbid any more gambling on the premises...and anything else you do up here on hot days. If you haven’t heard by now, the accident Victoria was in stole her memory. She doesn’t remember her mother at all. I don’t want you or the others, putting ideas into Vicky’s head. I shall be the one to tell her about her mother. Do you understand?”
“Of course, Cole—um, I mean Major Baldwin,” Adora replied sarcastically as she stepped back and flipped a long golden lock of hair over her shoulder.
“And you can tell the others what I expect.”
Her head bobbed once more.
He turned and marched back down the stairs, heading for his study this time. He needed a stiff drink and hoped it would calm his temper.
Growing up with a drunken father who gambled everything away, Cole couldn’t abide that in this house. Rebecca thought it was necessary to keep the servants entertained, which was why she’d created a gambling hall on the third floor and opened it to anyone. Servants from other estates even came here to gamble. But now that he was in charge, he’d find different ways to keep them entertained...like working in the fields and doing their duties around the house.
After pouring a good amount of ale in a glass, he took a long satisfying gulp. The burning sensation down his throat quickly and dulled his anger. Adora had been correct when she’d said he had never acted this way. The reason he allowed Rebecca to run her servants the way she wanted was because it was her money. Although he was still living off her money, she was gone and so he’d make his own rules around this estate.
As soon as he emptied his glass, his mind eased slightly. He decided to wait an hour before going out to check on the horses to see if his servants were working. He hoped they were because he wasn’t in any mood to release them from their positions.
However, lately he’d been seriously considering releasing Adora from her duties. She was a good maid to Rebecca, but he’d never forget that one night when his wife had allowed the servant to seduce him. It had been while he was in the military. He’d been given a two-week break and he came here to Grand View. He and Rebecca had argued about something, and feeling discouraged, he’d been drinking heavily. Obviously, he’d not been thinking straight, but it didn’t matter how much he tried to explain to her that she meant nothing to him. The bold servant still took liberties when she shouldn’t. Even after Rebecca’s death, Adora tried to get him sloshed. Thankfully, he saw through her plan and put a stop to it immediately.
He couldn’t have the other servants seeing that, and he especially couldn’t have Vicky seeing that. Perhaps it was time now to send Adora on her way to find other employment.
“HOW ARE YOU FAIRING, Vicky?”
Closing her eyes, Vicky sank a little deeper into the copper tub so the wonderful warm water covered her to her neck. How was she fairing? She smiled. This was Heaven. Her bath was so relaxing, she didn’t want to move. But if she didn’t get out soon, her skin would look like dried prunes, and of course the water would turn cool.
“Miss?” the maid asked a little louder.
“I’m fine.” She peeked under her eyelids as the maid poked her head inside from the adjoining room. The middle-aged woman was round and short, and very kind. At times, the servant seemed shy.
“Vicky?” the maid asked again. “Where are your clothes?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but then realized, she didn’t know. From the moment she’d awaken in this strange bed a week ago, she’d only been wearing night gowns. “I don’t know where my clothes are, Miss Thompson.”
The maid stepped fully inside the bathing chamber, holding a wrapper and a different colored night gown. “I wonder what the master wants me to dress you in.”
“I cannot tell you.” Vicky shrugged. “I suppose we shall have to call him up here and ask.”
“Yes, I’ll do that.” The maid placed the items in her arms over the edge of a chair before hurrying out of the room.
Although she didn’t want to move from out of the tub, she knew she must. Slowly, these past seven days, she’d gained her strength, but surprisingly, Major Baldwin hadn’t requested her to take up her position as the housekeeper. She found it odd that he wasn’t pushing her to begin her duties. Sometimes he acted as if he wanted her to stay bedridden just so he could take care of her.
As she stepped out of the tub and toweled her body dry, she grinned. He had been extra nice to her. The major still hadn’t told her how he knew her mother—unless, she was a servant, too. And yet, in the painting she’d seen, her mother wore a fancy gown. No, her mother wasn’t a servant. Perhaps she should ask Major Baldwin how he knew Rebecca. She’d have to find the right time to ask him. At times, he seemed a little uneasy whenever she’d asked him questions about her mother.
She slipped on her nightgown and wrapper before moving into her bedroom. Miss Thompson was gone, but she had left the door open. Vicky frowned. Why would the maid forget to close the door, especially when she was taking a bath?
Softly, she stepped to the door and cautiously peeked out. Her memory hadn’t returned, but she knew enough to know she shouldn’t be seen in her night clothes...and still being somewhat wet, the clothes were sticking to her body. Not only that, but her hair wasn’t dry, which dampened the material, as well.
Vicky peered up the corridor, curious to see more of the house. Being confined to the bedroom for a week, she’d only been privileged to gaze outside from time to time. From up the corridor, a door opened and a man stepped out, closing the door behind him. She sucked in a quick breath. Major Baldwin!
When his gaze met hers, his legs ceased moving. However, his attention didn’t, and it roamed all over her, from the top of her head, down to her bare feet. She should have been embarrassed by being caught this way, but the look of interest in his expression kept her from running back to her bed and hiding under the blankets.
Today, he was handsome in shades of brown. His face appeared freshly shaven, and her fingers itched to stroke his jaw to see how smooth his skin felt against her skin. His lips appeared soft, but they held a masculine shape. His chiseled features looked as if someone had sculptured him from gold, cheeks hard as his jaw, yet his eyes and mouth held an affectionate softness. She could tell he spent a lot of time outside. Now she was anxious to learn more about this interesting man.
His throat jumped and he finally moved toward her. His smile widened the closer he came. Why she didn’t think to move back into the room and jump into bed, she didn’t know.
“Good morning, Vicky. How are you feeling today?”
“Much better, thank you.”
He stopped in front of her, but once again, his gaze skimmed over her.
“Did you need somethin
g? Is Miss Thompson assisting you with your bath?”
“She was, but she went to find you.”
“What is it that she needs?” he asked.
“Apparently, I don’t have any clothes. I had wanted to get dressed and actually leave the bedroom, but the maid told me she doesn’t know where my clothes are.”
Sighing, his shoulders sagged. “I cannot believe I had overlooked that important matter. I shall send someone into town to see if your luggage was collected after the accident. I’m sure someone will know where it is.” He rubbed his hands together. “But until then, let me show you to your mother’s room. Her clothes are still here, and you look about the same size as she was. Perhaps you can find something to wear.”
Her heart lifted. “That would be lovely.”
“Would you like to go now?” he asked warily, looking at her damp hair.
“Now is a good time, I suppose.”
“It’s just up the hall.”
She followed him, threading her fingers through her damp hair as she walked. Perhaps she should have stayed by the fireplace in her bedroom and dried her hair fully, but the thought of being able to see her mother’s things excited her too much. She hoped something in that room would jog her memory. Not only that, but she was anxious to wear something besides a night gown.
When she entered her mother’s bed chambers, she lost her breath in awe. Such a luxurious room with fancy bedding and curtains, and an older style of furniture she didn’t recognize. Still, everything looked untouched, except the room had been cleaned and dusted. Why would the servants take care of a dead woman’s room?
Cole opened the armoires, and Vicky gasped in awe again. Her mother certainly was a wealthy woman. So if this was Major Baldwin’s estate, why had her mother lived here?
Two thoughts came to mind, but she quickly ushered one of them out. Her mother wouldn’t have been a man’s mistress. Vicky just knew it deep within her heart. So if her mother wasn’t the major’s mistress, she must have been... His wife.
Her heart filled with dread from just the thought. Really, she shouldn’t think this way. And yet, why would her mother marry someone so young—who appeared to be around the same age as her own daughter? What a scandal that would have made. And what scandal would it make if Vicky were starting to have feelings for him?
The rose-colored gown drew her attention. She had no clue if this would look good on her or compliment her complexion, but the color was very lovely. As she held it up in front of her and studied the elegant design, she noticed how low cut the bodice was. Her mother must have been very daring to wear such a gown in public.
The gown was trimmed with white lace around the square neckline of the bodice, and around the short sleeves. The lace made two rows of swirls going from the top of the high waist, down the front of the gown, ending at the hem. Indeed, it was very elegant. Just the thought of wearing such an article sent butterflies twirling in her stomach.
“Would you like to try it on?” Major Baldwin asked, sweetly.
She met his gaze and nodded as she placed the gown on the bed. “If I may.”
“Of course, you can. Let me find Miss Thompson and have her assist you.”
As he walked out of the room, a vague memory swept over Vicky. She could picture herself getting dressed in the mornings, but she certainly couldn’t see a servant helping her. So if her mother had been wealthy, why didn’t Vicky have servants to assist her in dressing? Perhaps it was because Mr. Hampton wasn’t wealthy and when he’d died, he left her a desolate widow. Yes, that would explain things.
Footsteps came up the hall, and Vicky focused toward the door, expecting to see Miss Thompson walk into the room. Instead, another woman entered. Vicky had seen this maid around the estate a few times, but she couldn’t recall her name. The maid was lovely with blonde hair and big brown eyes. But this time, the maid’s eyes were peering at Vicky differently.
Eeriness crawled over Vicky, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. There was just something unsettling about this particular maid that made her stomach clench with dread.
“Good day, Mrs. Hampton,” the maid greeted.
“Hello.” Vicky nodded. “Did Cole—um, I mean, Major Baldwin, send you to assist me instead of Miss Thompson?”
The woman’s gaze narrowed. “No, actually. Although I believe he should have since I used to be your mother’s personal maid.”
“You did?” Vicky stepped closer to the other woman. “What is he having you do now?”
Anger crossed her expression. “I’m the laundry maid.”
“Oh,” Vicky answered quietly. She didn’t know what else to say. It was apparent that the poor girl’s position was lowered. Had the girl done something wrong? “So, if you’re the laundry maid, do you know what happened to the clothes I was wearing when Major Baldwin brought me here?”
“Oh, I’m sorry to inform you, but your widow’s dress was ripped beyond repair.”
Vicky sighed as her gaze dipped to the floor. Seeing her clothes again just may have sparked her memory in some way. “That is most unfortunate.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the servant said.
Vicky looked back at the other woman. “No, not at all...Miss...um, what’s your name?”
“You may call me Adora.”
How odd. Why didn’t Adora want Vicky to know her last name? “Well, I’m just waiting for Miss Thompson to assist me into one of my mother’s old gowns.”
Adora smiled, but it looked too forced, and walked to the armoires. “Your mother had the loveliest gowns, and the newest fashions. Her clothes were never old.”
“Oh.” Once again, Vicky felt at a loss for words. What exactly did this girl want if she wasn’t here to assist her?
“If you would like,” Adora swung toward Vicky again, “I could help you dress.”
“Well,” Vicky shrugged, “I suppose it would be all right.” She pointed to the gown on the bed. “I would like to wear this one.”
After Adora walked back to the bedroom door and closed it, she helped Vicky with her undergarments and finally, into the gown. The maid didn’t talk much, and Vicky was still wary about the servant’s true purpose here, especially if she was now a laundry maid.
Adora pointed to the vanity, and Vicky sat on the stool. The servant picked up a brush and began pulling it through Vicky’s locks. She grimaced a few times. Her head was still very sore.
“So tell me, Mrs. Hampton,” the servant began, “what do you think of your mother’s estate?”
Vicky shrugged. “I suppose, since I haven’t really had a chance to get out and see everything, I really don’t know what I think of the place.”
“Well, your mother loved Grand View, and kept good care of it.”
Vicky smiled. “I’m sure she did.”
“Your mother was very friendly with the servants, since they were her only friends.”
Vicky arched an eyebrow in question. “Her only friends? Did she not have others?”
“A few.” Adora flipped her hand. “But her closest friends were the servants.”
“What about Major Baldwin? Is he as friendly with the servants?”
The maid’s grin turned into what Vicky would describe as a sneer. The woman nodded as she focused on Vicky’s hair.
“Oh, yes. Cole is friendly as well.”
Vicky sighed. “I suspected that about him. He’s been very sweet toward me. I can’t imagine any man who is more kind.”
Through the vanity’s mirror, Adora’s gaze clashed with Vicky’s. A scowl appeared on the maid’s face.
“I wouldn’t suggest you get very close to him at all.” Adora’s voice turned gritty.
Vicky wasn’t sure she liked the maid’s tone. Was the maid threatening her? Annoyance crept inside Vicky, but she kept her calm. “Why would you say that?”
“Because,” the servant’s voice lowered as she leaned closer to Vicky’s ear, “when you regain your memory, you might not like Major Baldw
in very much.”
Vicky released an uncomfortable laugh as anger flowed faster through her. “Of course, I’ll like Major Baldwin.”
Adora straightened and arched an eyebrow. “Don’t be too certain.”
Fisting her hands, Vicky wanted to lash out at the other woman. How dare she say such a thing! The maid knew Vicky didn’t have a memory, so why would she toy with her in that way?
Before she could ask any more, the door opened and Miss Thompson walked into the room. Her gaze clashed with Adora’s.
“What are you doing here?” Miss Thompson snapped.
Adora casually shrugged. “I was just assisting Mrs. Hampton.” Lifting her chin a little higher, she sashayed out of the room.
Vicky wanted to ask the other servant about Adora’s behavior, but her mind spun with unanswered questions. Was there something wrong with Cole? From what he’d told her, they had never met until she arrived here. So why wouldn’t Vicky like him after her memory returned.
“I hope Adora wasn’t bothering you,” Miss Thompson said as she finished styling Vicky’s hair.
“Well...” Her frown deepened, and she frowned. “She did say the most confusing thing to me.”
Miss Thompson tapped Vicky on the shoulder lightly. “Don’t you worry about her. She has been out of sorts since the mistress died, and the master demoted her.”
Vicky nodded. That’s what she’d suspected earlier. And yet, why would she say such a thing about Cole?
Nearly thirty minutes later, Vicky stood in front of the full length mirror, admiring the way the rose-colored gown brightened her skin and made her look healthier, she also realized her mother had a larger bosom. Thankfully, Miss Thompson had sewn in a few darts to make it fit better. The maid had also coiled Vicky’s hair into a bun at the back of her neck, and curled the sections of hair by her ears into ringlets.
Giddiness filled her knowing she was wearing such a fancy dress and looking so different. She couldn’t understand the chipper mood unless it was because she had been tired of being cooped up in a bedroom and she needed to get out and mingle in the real world.
Sweet Memories Page 5
