Wentworth Hall

by Abby Grahame

  “Now there’s the girl Michael should set his sights on,” Rose commented. “So pretty and sweet.”

  “That she is,” Mrs. Howard remarked pensively. “And familiar, somehow. Her smile… I feel like I’ve seen it before.”

  “I don’t see how you could have,” Rose said. “Unless you took a holiday to France on your afternoon off?”

  “Very funny,” Mrs. Howard replied. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Her smile just reminds me of someone and I can’t recall who.”

  “Déjà vu!” explained Grace.

  “Excuse me?” Mrs. Howard asked, arching one eyebrow as though Helen had said something a bit racy.

  “The French have a word for it,” Grace explained. “It means you’ve seen something before in some other time and place; maybe even another lifetime.”

  “Oh, rubbish!” Mrs. Howard scoffed.

  “Well, I say she’s a lovely girl,” Rose insisted.

  “Do you think so?” Nora questioned skeptically.

  “Don’t you like her?” Rose asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Nora admitted. “There’s something about her. We’ve been sharing quarters for weeks, and I barely know the first thing about her. She certainly keeps to herself.”

  “You’re just annoyed you haven’t gotten any gossip from her!” Grace taunted.

  “The French are very different from us,” Rose allowed. “More worldly, I think. It’s a certain sophistication they seem to come by naturally.”

  “Maybe,” Nora considered as she sat at the table. She couldn’t imagine Michael with Therese, that much she knew. Although it did surprise her that Therese showed no interest in her handsome friend. Nora could practically hear the girls in town sigh whenever Michael walked by. In fact, Therese seemed preoccupied most of the time. Maybe she’d left behind a beau in France. Perhaps Nora could coax the story out of Therese one day. The local newspaper, The Sussex Courier, lay in front of Nora and she began turning the pages, knowing she’d find juicy tidbits of local news in the society pages.

  “Nora!” Mrs. Howard said sharply. “Why are you sitting there? Don’t you have work to do?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Her ladyship wouldn’t want to dress for lunch for another half hour, so she actually did have some time to spare, but it never paid to appear idle in front of Mrs. Howard. If Nora had nothing to do, Mrs. Howard would find something. There was always a floor to be mopped or priceless heirloom to be dusted somewhere in the many, many hallways of the immense estate. “I’m going,” Nora confirmed, tucking the newspaper into her apron pocket to be read in a less conspicuous spot.

  As she climbed the servants’ stairs, Nora heard Mrs. Howard speak to Rose. “I wish that girl were as committed to her work as she is to knowing everything that goes on around here,” Mrs. Howard remarked.

  “The girl is obsessed with snooping,” Grace added.

  Rose laughed warmly in agreement. “She is a regular busybody, isn’t she?”

  Turning, Nora wrinkled her nose at them disagreeably.

  Chapter Three

  The Sussex Courier

  Introducing:

  MISFORTUNE MANOR!

  The well-heeled denizens of the local mansions, estates, halls, and other of the area’s palatial dwellings are all atwitter. What has set these regal folks talking? It is nothing less unexpected that the sudden appearance of that most maligned yet coveted phenomenon known as “New Money.” How dreadful… yet thrilling. How they disdain it! How they want it!

  These youthful visitors with dizzying wealth may have come from a land overseas where jungle animals hunt their prey… but they will be surprised to find that in the land of impoverished gentry, they are the prey! Hunted by Lords and Ladies wielding their poor but titled unmarried sons and daughters, trying to ensnare the moneyed youth in the marriage trap.

  Not even England’s oldest and most well-respected family is beyond this behavior. In fact, they might be the most desperate of all.…

  Stay tuned, dear readers, for the first thrilling installment of MISFORTUNE MANOR… coming next week!

  Chapter Four

  NO!” LILA CRIED AS NORA BEGAN TO pull Lila’s dark blond hair back into its usual French braid. “I don’t want my hair like this today, Nora.” She gazed imploringly at Nora’s reflection in the mirror. “Can’t we do it differently?”

  Nora scowled, confused. “Did you have something special in mind?” she asked.

  Lila sighed, feeling just slightly foolish. This morning the Fitzhugh twins would arrive and she wanted to make the right first impression. It was bad enough that Maggie treated her as though she were a child, even though there was a mere two years’ difference in their ages. Lila didn’t want Jessica and Teddy Fitzhugh also thinking she was a little girl to be ignored. She had missed the excitement of Paris, and Lila was determined not to be shut out of this new excitement.

  “You could try a twist in back,” Lila suggested to Nora.

  “A French twist!” Nora cried, aghast at the idea. “Your mother would never allow it. Girls of sixteen don’t wear their hair like that.”

  “Seventeen in two months,” Lila objected with a pout.

  “What if I tie it at the nape of your neck with a blue ribbon?” Nora said. “It’s not quite as girlish as a braid.”

  Lila considered this alternative before nodding her consent. “That would be better, I suppose,” she allowed.

  When Nora had finished brushing and tying the ponytail in place, Lila stood in front of her dressing room mirror. The white linen dropped waist frock she wore completely obliterated any sign of her developing curves. She tugged at the collar so at least a bit of collarbone was revealed. “Hopeless,” she murmured.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t fret,” Nora said consolingly. “I’m sure the Fitzhugh twins will like you as much as we all do.”

  “And pay about as much attention to me as everyone around here does, also,” Lila sulked. “It’s as though I’m neither fish nor foul—not a child and not an adult. Sometimes I feel like a ghost—invisible and completely—”

  Lila cut herself short as the sound of a motorcar approached, its engine growing ever noisier on the road in front of the manor. “It’s them!” Lila shouted, rushing to the window. Pushing aside the curtain, she peered down at the gleaming red vehicle. Its open top revealed a young man and woman in the front seat. The woman in the front passenger seat wore a fur-trimmed knit sweater. Her sleek finger-curls were swept back in a twisting chignon that elegantly spanned the nape of her neck. Jeweled bracelets were piled up both arms.

  But Lila’s eyes were glued on the driver.

  Auburn-haired and athletically built, he reeked confidence. It was in his squared shoulders and the regal upward tilt of his chiseled jaw. He wore a white cable-knit sweater under a blue blazer. “Oh, look at him, Nora!” Lila gushed. “Isn’t Teddy Fitzhugh gorgeous?!”

  “Quite the modern man,” Nora agreed with a sour note in her voice that caught Lila by surprise.

  She turned to face her maid. “What does that mean?”

  “Not a thing,” Nora insisted, gathering the nightgown Lila had allowed to drop to the floor.

  “It means something,” Lila insisted.

  “I like to reserve my judgments until I meet a person.”

  “Oh, he’s going to be wonderful, Nora!” Lila said assuredly. “I can tell just by looking at him.” Lila bounded toward the door. “Why am I standing here? I have to greet them.”

  Lila heard Nora say something about Percival the butler admitting them as she rushed into the hall. Her mother and Maggie were already ahead of her, both deep in conversation. Lila fell back, not wanting to join them, her enthusiasm deflated by the fact that her sister looked spectacular in a silk floral dress that followed her womanly figure, not exactly hugging her body but certainly accentuating its form. Her abundant hair was gathered in a loose knot at the top of her head. A vision of effortless elegance.

  How could she ever compete with that?

>   Teddy Fitzhugh would be swept off his feet—just like every other young man Maggie deigned to look upon.

  But maybe not! This was a fresh start with new people. Lila resolved to assert herself, make her presence known.

  Picking up her pace, Lila caught up to her mother and sister. “Isn’t it exciting?” she said.

  Her mother glanced over her shoulder and nodded. Maggie, as usual, didn’t even acknowledge Lila’s presence.

  “It is indeed,” Lady Darlington agreed. “I was just telling your sister that she should make every effort to get to know Teddy Fitzhugh. She’s ready for marriage and the longer she waits the dimmer her prospects will become.”

  “Marriage?” Lila gasped. Teddy Fitzhugh wasn’t even in the door yet and they were already plotting to marry him to Maggie. “Surely you can’t be serious.”

  “Have no doubt, I am most serious,” Lady Darlington said.

  “I saw him from my window. He’s not terrible-looking,” Maggie said, her voice flat with the new, put-on maturity she’d acquired over the last year. It was so affected it made Lila want to scream. Only one year earlier they’d tickled, poked, and teased each other, racing down the halls of the manor laughing like lunatics. But now, since her return, Lila hardly recognized her sister. It was as if Maggie had had her heart surgically removed while in France. The change in Maggie was mystifying and depressing—and insufferable.

  “I’d say he was rather handsome,” Lila grumbled.

  Maggie shrugged as if already bored.

  Lila fought the urge to choke her sister as they hurried down the staircase. At the bottom of the stairs, Percival was admitting the twins. “Welcome! Welcome!” Lady Darlington exclaimed, hurrying into the foyer, her arms outstretched in an embracing gesture of charm and warmth. “Welcome to Wentworth Hall. We’re so delighted you’re both here.”

  Teddy Fitzhugh reached back and lifted something from atop one of his suitcases. Turning forward, he offered Lady Darlington a lavishly abundant bouquet of mixed-color roses. “We are so grateful for your kindness to us, Lady Darlington,” he said as he presented them.

  “Most grateful,” Jessica Fitzhugh echoed with less sincere warmth than her brother.

  Lila hoped her face didn’t reveal how overwhelmed she felt by the mere sight of Teddy. She had never seen any man like him. For one thing, he was tan. Set against his sun-lightened hair and eyes it spoke to her of outdoor adventure and highlighted his pearly teeth in a way that gave his smile a thrillingly dangerous charm.

  “Thank you. They’re exquisite,” Lady Darlington gushed over the roses.

  Lila opened her mouth to agree with her mother but closed it again when Lady Darlington added, “Aren’t they stunning, Maggie?”

  “Beautiful,” Maggie concurred without much enthusiasm.

  “Yes, beautiful,” Teddy Fitzhugh murmured. Lila followed the direction of his gaze and immediately realized it was fixed on Maggie. It was as if he could see nothing else.

  For Lila, it was a kick in the gut.

  It took only two days for Lila to conclude that there was absolutely no hope of distracting Teddy Fitzhugh from his fascination with Maggie. Teddy was polite to Lila, of course. During dinner he responded to her questions about South Africa. He encouraged her to play the piano for them at tea. But Lila knew this attention was out of courtesy, not genuine interest. When Lila’s older sister was in the room he did nothing but hang on her every word, laughing uproariously at her every pale witticism, scowling with concern whenever she voiced the mildest of complaints. To borrow an expression she’d heard Nora use: He was hooked. There was nothing Lila could think of that could possibly make him notice her. Unless, of course, she had an ally.

  It couldn’t be just any ally, either. It had to be someone who knew him well and whom he trusted completely. Lila came up with a plan.

  Jessica Fitzhugh was, in her own way, as strikingly attractive as her brother. She too had the light tan her brother sported, laid over with a spray of freckles across her high cheekbones and delicate nose. With her fashionable finger-curls and chignon combined with a graceful yet athletic gait, Jessica Fitzhugh seemed to Lila to be the height of modern womanhood. And as such, Lila found the more sophisticated and somewhat older Jessica to be utterly intimidating and dauntingly unapproachable. It didn’t help matters that Jessica mostly kept to herself. Lila thought she must be homesick and also missing her father terribly. Nora confided that she thought Jessica was simply a snob—pointing to Jessica’s constant sour expression as proof. But Lila didn’t want to believe it. Maybe that was just how Jessica’s face looked in repose. She couldn’t help that.

  But if Lila could befriend Jessica she would have the inside track on Teddy. She’d never seen a brother and sister who were closer, probably because they were also twins. Besides that, it would be nice to have a friend at Wentworth Hall, someone to fill the void Maggie had left since deciding she was too grownup to bother with Lila any longer.

  There didn’t seem any way into Jessica’s world, though. She spent all her time with Teddy and if he was off trailing after Maggie, she busied herself in her room either reading or scribbling in a red notebook she seemed to carry with her everywhere. But one afternoon Lila came upon Jessica studying the oil portraits that lined the upstairs hallway.

  “That’s my brother Wesley,” Lila said, sidling up beside Jessica, who was standing below the portrait of the oldest Darlington sibling and gazing up at it.

  “Really,” Jessica remarked without turning toward Lila but continuing to inspect the painting.

  “I call him Wes, for short. He studies at Oxford University, though right now he’s in the states with a school chum. I miss him terribly. He dotes on me. We’re very close, just like you and Teddy.”

  Jessica turned to look at Lila, her face twisted into a disdainful smile. “I doubt it.”

  Lila hadn’t been prepared for such a condescending response. “What do you doubt?” she asked, surprised.

  “That your relationship resembles my bond with Teddy in any way. We’re twins.”

  “Well, of course,” Lila agreed, feeling horribly foolish and hoping her face wasn’t turning red. “I suppose one can’t ever understand what it’s like to be a twin unless one is, oneself, a twin.”

  “Exactly,” Jessica said, returning her gaze to the portrait of Wesley. “I must say he’s not bad-looking.”

  “Who, Wes? Oh, no, Wes is very handsome. All the girls think so.”

  “How do you know? Do they confide in you?” Jessica scoffed.

  “Sometimes,” Lila insisted, her voice rising a bit. This was not going as planned. Why was Jessica being so disagreeable? She hoped Jessica wouldn’t press her for an instance of this happening because she couldn’t think of one. Even if no girl had ever actually told Lila she admired Wes, Lila could tell that girls liked her older brother. It was obvious from the coy and giggly way they acted in his presence. “You can see from his portrait that he’s handsome, can’t you?” Lila added. What more proof did she need?

  “Hmmm,” Jessica hummed as she considered the question, her chin still tilted up to Wesley’s image.

  Lila couldn’t believe that the question of Wes’s good looks required this much consideration. “What about him disturbs you?” she challenged, instantly regretting the touch of peevishness that had crept into her tone.

  “No… no… you’re right. In this portrait he’s very handsome, but portrait painters make their commissions by flattering their subjects, don’t they?”

  “I assure you, this is what he looks like,” Lila maintained.

  “Take the case of the portrait of your mother hanging over the fireplace in the living room for instance,” Jessica countered. “She doesn’t really look like that now, does she? I mean, there’s absolutely no sign of that double chin of hers and she’s quite a bit more svelte than in real life.”

  “What do you mean by a double chin?”

  Jessica patted the underside of her own chin.
“That.”

  Lila had never paid attention to it before, but now that she pictured Lady Darlington she realized that her mother did have a soft pad of fat under her chin. “Well, that painting was done right after my parents were married, so it must be at least twenty years old. I think she was nineteen when they married.”

  “So that’s my point,” Jessica stated firmly. “How do I know that handsome Wes here hasn’t grown chubby on university beer and pub food while he’s been off supposedly studying? Maybe that pale blond hair has even begun to recede. Some men begin balding as early as their twenties, you know.”

  Lila found this idea not only horrifying but insulting. “I’m sure that Wes has not grown fat and bald in the less than a year since I last saw him.”

  Jessica shrugged noncommittally. “I’m simply saying that what one sees in a painting is not always what one gets. Wentworth Hall, for instance. Before Teddy and I agreed to come stay here, your father sent our solicitor who minds our affairs a small painting of the place. It appeared quite elegant.”

  “Don’t you think it is elegant?”

  “It’s probably not so different than in your mother’s case,” Jessica replied with a sneering grin as she began strolling off down the hallway away from Lila.

  “I don’t understand,” Lila admitted.

  “It’s seen better days,” Jessica shot back from over her shoulder, clearly delighted with her quip.

  Lila fumed, watching Jessica’s back swing lightly back and forth as she sauntered down the hall looking insufferably pleased with herself. Why would someone take such glee in being insulting? What had Lila—indeed, any of the Darlingtons—ever done to Jessica other than try to be nice? Was it worth Lila’s effort to even attempt being friendly in the future?

  It baffled Lila to think that Jessica and Teddy could be twins. Surely they were not a thing alike. But then, she and Maggie were sisters, close in age, and Lila was certain that she did not in any way resemble her heartless, stuck-up sister. And, hopefully, Teddy would come to discover that before very long.