“I also have a daughter,” he said. “Aren’t they our greatest treasures?” He was looking at her intently.
Lady Tremaine kept her face passive, not wanting to scare the man off with tales about her wicked girls. She wondered if it was too late for her daughters, hoping she hadn’t ruined any chance of them becoming the young ladies she and Lord Tremaine hoped they would become.
To hear Sir Richard talk about his angelic daughter, one would think she was a treasure, fashioned by the gods out of all that was good and glittering and bestowed to him from the heavens. He must have raised her well. Lady Tremaine was envious really, thinking of how awful both her daughters had been to her before she left for this trip, and she probably only knew the half of their usual misdeeds. She decided she’d better sit down and chat with Nanny Pinch when she returned to see how deeply this behavior had taken hold of them. She felt more than ever that she had done everything wrong after her husband died.
As she sat next to this enchanting gentleman, she realized she had lost something of herself over the past six years. She had lost her edge, her wit, and her stoicism. She had become soft, and she resolved to find herself again.
Lady Tremaine woke the next morning to Rebecca opening the curtains in the Fairy Room. She hated to admit it, but it was a nice change to have Rebecca looking after her. She was a happy young woman, with ginger hair, green eyes, and a willowy stature, almost fairylike.
“Good morning, my lady. I have brought you some coffee,” said Rebecca as she tied back the long purple curtains.
“Thank you, Rebecca dear. What does Lady Hackle have planned for us today?”
Rebecca walked over to the bed and began arranging the pillows so that Lady Tremaine could enjoy her coffee sitting up. “The gentlemen are in the vestibule enjoying some libations before heading out for their hunt,” she said.
Lady Tremaine thought she would like to be there now to see Sir Richard off. She imagined he looked dashing in his hunting clothes. “And the ladies? What will the ladies be doing today?” she asked as Rebecca placed the coffee tray on the bed.
“The gentlemen will be joining the ladies for a picnic this afternoon after their hunt,” said Rebecca.
Lady Tremaine thought that sounded lovely. “And how is Mrs. Bramble?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee. “Have you seen her this morning, Rebecca?”
“Yes, that’s how I knew you wished for nothing but coffee this morning,” the young maid said, smiling. “She seems to be feeling much better and is quite eager to attend her lady. But I’m not sure she’s ready to return to her duties.”
Lady Tremaine wondered if she shouldn’t just send Mrs. Bramble back home. “Tell her it is my wish that she continue to rest—that is, if Lady Prudence can spare you. I wouldn’t like to deprive her of her lady’s maid.”
Rebecca looked pleased. “Lady Prudence is being well taken care of. I am entirely at your service. Unless you’d prefer Mrs. Bramble?” she said, taking Lady Tremaine’s dressing gown out of the wardrobe.
The fact was, she didn’t prefer Mrs. Bramble. Lady Tremaine was enjoying this change of pace, without her daughters and the servants who knew her well. She felt it was a chance to start fresh, to regain her old self. There was an ease to being cared for by Rebecca and the rest of Lady Hackle’s servants. It was all entirely civil, without the overfamiliarity she had fallen into at home. She liked feeling that everyone knew their place, and with that she realized that she, too, had found hers.
“No, Rebecca, Mrs. Bramble should rest a while longer. I think she is well where she is. Now let’s decide what I will wear to the picnic. I assume my dear friend Lady Prudence has some ideas on the matter?” she asked teasingly.
“As a matter of fact, she did give me a few dresses for you to choose from. Shall I show them to you now?” Rebecca held out a long black silk robe with vivid pink flowers for Lady Tremaine to wear while she made her selections for the day. “I asked one of the maids to come up and run a bath for you. Why don’t we take a look at the dresses while we wait?”
Just then a dainty young woman in a black-and-white maid’s uniform came into the room.
“Rose, please run a bath for Lady Tremaine. We will be in shortly,” Rebecca said.
The slight girl nodded and quickly went into the adjoining bathroom without another word.
“Don’t mind Rose, my lady, she is very shy,” Rebecca continued. “I think all the dresses Lady Prudence picked out for you are exquisite, but I have a feeling you will like this one best.” She held up a periwinkle-and-white day dress. “And look at this,” she added, excited as a young schoolgirl as she pointed to the matching hat and gloves.
“Oh yes, that is beautiful. And such a beautiful shade.” Lady Tremaine traced the tips of her fingers over the fabric. The dress was a delicate shade of periwinkle, trimmed with white lace along the neckline, sleeves, and hem. The hat was white with periwinkle flowers.
“I thought you’d like this one best,” Rebecca said as Rose came out of the bathroom.
“The lady’s bath is ready,” said Rose.
“Thank you, Rose. Please hang this up while I attend Lady Tremaine.” Rebecca handed her the dress, then turned her attention back to the lady.
“My lady, I almost forgot. Mrs. Bramble asked me to keep this safe for you, but not to give it to you. She said something about a witch’s curse, or maybe it was a pirate’s, I’m not sure. Either way, I thought it was best that you should have it. I didn’t feel right keeping it from you.” She held out a small satin box.
Lady Tremaine took the box from Rebecca’s hand knowing exactly what was inside. “Poor Mrs. Bramble. Was she really talking of curses? I feel just awful bringing her on this trip without realizing she wasn’t up to it,” said Lady Tremaine. She was terribly worried about her lady’s maid.
“Don’t worry, my lady. Her behavior is a bit concerning, but she is in good hands downstairs. I promise you,” said Rebecca.
“Thank you, Rebecca, I don’t know what I would do without you,” she said as she opened the box to reveal an oval green brooch in its antique gold setting. Her heart sank looking at the brooch her husband had given her. They had chosen it together in a little shop near Eaton Square. They had been taking a stroll in the park when her husband suggested an alternate path home and they came upon the funny little shop. It wasn’t the sort of place her husband would usually frequent, but he seemed to have a purpose in taking her there, like he had planned it from the beginning. She remembered it vividly as if it had just happened the other day and not over six years ago now.
“Did you plan this, dear? Have you been here before?” she had asked as they reached the shop doors.
“No, my dear, I’ve never seen this shop before, but let’s go inside,” he’d said with a cheeky look that was out of character for him. She thought he was playing with her, and she decided to go along with his little ruse, because she was sure he had some sort of surprise in mind.
When they walked into the shop, a brass bell rang overhead. It was a dim little place with a long glass case displaying the treasures within. She remembered her husband going right over to the case, not even noticing the proprietor had come out from behind a curtain. He was a happy sort of man, beaming with excitement to have customers, even if it seemed they had just interrupted his lunch. He was still holding his napkin, wiping his hands with it as he approached the display case.
“So sorry to come at your lunchtime,” said Lady Tremaine, smiling at the shopkeeper. “I am Lady Tremaine, and this is my husband, Lord Tremaine.”
“Welcome, my lady. We don’t get many lords and ladies in my little shop. It’s an honor. Are you looking for anything in particular?” he asked.
Just then her husband looked up from the case. “Good man, I’d like to see this brooch here!”
The shopkeeper rushed over to the case and took the tray with the brooch along with a number of other exquisite pieces. “My love, come here. Look at this brooch. What d
o you think?”
Lady Tremaine went over to the case. The brooch caught her eye immediately. “It’s a lovely brooch, my dear.”
Her husband looked up at her, meeting her eyes. “And it will look so handsome on you, my love. It’s beautiful and stately just like you.”
Lady Tremaine hadn’t seen her husband so excited in quite some time. He had been so tired and not himself that she had started to worry about his health, and she was cheered to see him in such fine spirits.
She took the brooch in her hands, almost mesmerized by its beauty and how it made her feel. She felt a tingling sensation move through her, which made her feel exhilarated, and powerful, and yet at the same time somehow very calm.
“And it has an interesting story,” said the shopkeeper. “I bought everything on this tray from a dealer who says he purchased the entire lot from a pirate, along with a book of fairy tales that is said to be written by witches.”
Lord Tremaine scoffed. “Poppycock!” he said, scandalizing his wife.
“What my husband meant to say was surely that’s just a story you tell to entice your customers, isn’t that right, darling?” asked Lady Tremaine.
Before her husband could answer, a little boy came bounding into the room. He was a bold creature, dark-haired with eyes that one could describe as sad for how large they were, but this child was a jolly little fellow, and quite brave.
“My father doesn’t tell lies, my lady! The dealer saw the pirate himself! He said the pirate wore a funny hat, and even sold him those gold boot buckles on that tray! And you wouldn’t believe what else he had—”
The shopkeeper stepped in.
“That’s enough, son. Go back upstairs. The lord and lady don’t have time to hear about pirates,” he said as he watched his son go through the curtain and upstairs in a huff, looking back every few steps to see if they would call him to rejoin the conversation.
“I’m sorry about that. He gets very excited. I’m happy he takes an interest, because one day this business will be his, and one day his son’s. It will be my legacy.”
Lord Tremaine sighed. “It’s a fine thing to have a son to leave your legacy to, and what a brave young lad he is to stand up for his father that way.” Then he laughed, adding, “Well, if you both say the dealer bought these items from a pirate, who am I to say he didn’t.” He saw Lady Tremaine was running her fingers across the brooch. “My darling, you do like the brooch, don’t you?” he asked.
She couldn’t help but feel that he had brought her here specifically to get this brooch. “I do like it, my husband,” she said, taking it in her hands. “I love it, in fact.”
Lord Tremaine clapped his hands together, laughing. “Ah! See that! She likes it, my good man! Then we shall take it!”
Lady Tremaine had never seen him in such a jovial mood. It wasn’t like him to act so gregariously in public, or to go into poky little shops for that matter. But it didn’t matter; he seemed well again and that made her heart happy.
Lady Tremaine looked up from the brooch as the memory faded, and she found herself back in the Fairy Room at Lady Hackle’s home. It was such a fond memory, going into that little shop with her husband, one of the last lovely days they’d had together. Soon after, she had lost her husband to the illness she thought he was recovering from on that outing. She found herself having to banish the images of him on his deathbed and choke down the memory of their last words to each other, trying to root herself instead in the present, doing her best to replace the sad images of her departed husband with lovely ones of a bright and beautiful future, perhaps even with Sir Richard.
The thought surprised her. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted this man. Here she was imagining a future with him. A future where she and her daughters lived happily with Richard and his daughter.
“Are you well, my lady?” asked Rebecca.
“Yes, Rebecca, I was just lost in the past, and perhaps the future. I’m careful not to linger there too often for fear of being lost there forever and not seeing what is in front of me.” She handed the brooch back to the lady’s maid.
“Shall I put this out with your other jewelry, then? Would you like to wear it today to the picnic?” Rebecca asked.
“No, Rebecca, it doesn’t go with my dress. But I’d like you to leave it on my vanity. Perhaps I will wear it this evening at dinner,” she said, staring at it one last time before Rebecca closed the box.
“I’m sorry, my lady, but I have to ask: you’re not worried about Mrs. Bramble’s ravings about the brooch being cursed, are you? It’s all nonsense if you ask me,” said Rebecca.
“Is that what you would call it, Rebecca? Ravings? Is it that bad with Mrs. Bramble?” she asked.
“I’m afraid so, my lady.”
Lady Tremaine wanted to chalk it up to an old woman’s wild imagination, but recalling her conversation with the shopkeeper gave her pause. “The funny thing is, Rebecca, I just remembered the shopkeeper telling Lord Tremaine and me that he had acquired it from a mysterious dealer along with a number of other items, including a book of fairy tales written by witches. I wonder if this is the same book Mrs. Bramble gave me. And I’m almost sure he mentioned some sort of curse, but it has been so long since that day. Maybe I’m mistaken.”
Rebecca frowned. “Perhaps Mrs. Bramble is simply remembering the story you shared with her back then.”
Lady Tremaine shook her head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself. Of course, that’s what happened. And she’s somehow managed to get it all jumbled in her head. Tell me, Rebecca, has there been talk downstairs about Sir Richard?”
Rebecca smirked. “No more than the usual when a handsome man comes to visit. The maids and some of the footmen are swooning, of course. I mean, he is a very good-looking man.”
Lady Tremaine laughed. “And is there any talk about the Many Kingdoms, where Sir Richard is from? Mrs. Bramble would have me believe it is a dangerous place.”
Rebecca looked uncomfortable.
“Out with it, Rebecca. What are they saying down there?”
Rebecca cleared her throat. “Well, my lady, if you don’t mind my saying so, I think Mrs. Bramble is getting on in age and might be confused. I honestly haven’t heard any disturbing stories about Sir Richard or the Many Kingdoms from anyone other than Mrs. Bramble herself.” Rebecca looked as if she felt bad for saying so.
Everything was starting to make sense. “I see,” said Lady Tremaine. She realized it was probably best that Mrs. Bramble had left the book of fairy tales with her and wasn’t reading it obsessively.
“I hope I didn’t speak out of turn, my lady,” Rebecca said.
“No, Rebecca, you didn’t. You said exactly what I needed to hear.”
Ladies Tremaine and Hackle were enjoying some time to themselves away from the other guests in Lady Hackle’s parlor, which was so much grander than her own. With its French doors and its abundance of ferns and exotic flowers, it was almost like a solarium. She thought about how lovely it would be in the future for her and Lady Hackle to be old together, watching their grandchildren run around in this room. Lady Hackle often suggested that Lady Tremaine come live there once their children were married, and if she didn’t like the idea of living in the big house with all of them, she could live in the dowager house if she preferred, since there was no dowager in residence. Lady Tremaine loved the idea and always held it in reserve should she never marry again.
She had a lovely afternoon with her dear old friend while the rest of the guests were taking their leisure in their rooms after the picnic. It was the perfect opportunity for the two ladies to sneak off and chat.
“Won’t the other ladies feel like we’ve left them out?” asked Lady Tremaine, feeling a bit like a naughty schoolgirl and making Lady Hackle laugh.
“Well, we won’t tell the other ladies. Most of them are sleeping anyway. The dressing gong won’t be for ages, so we have all the time in the world to gossip! Don’t get me wrong, I love these gat
herings, but sometimes I need a little time to myself. Take it from me, there is nothing like a long afternoon outdoors to make your guests retire to their rooms,” she said, laughing again.
“I want to hear all about your walk with Sir Richard.” Lady Hackle’s eyes were alight, giddy for her friend. “You two seemed so enchanted with each other at the picnic. I didn’t dare come over and interrupt, and the next thing I knew the two of you were gone. I must have all the details.”
Lady Tremaine remained silent, fidgeting with a spare thread on the hem of her sleeve, trying to avoid Lady Hackle’s question. “Will you just look at that?” she said, showing her friend the thread on her sleeve. “I’d better bring it to Rebecca’s attention.”
Lady Hackle gave her friend a knowing look. “Come on, my dear, something is going on between the two of you, you can’t deny it. And I want to know everything, now spill!” she said, laughing and prodding her friend.
“I don’t deny it, Prudence, I just don’t know where to begin. He’s perfect. In every single possible way,” said Lady Tremaine.
Lady Hackle looked very pleased with herself. “What did you talk about? What did he say?” Lady Hackle asked, leaning in as if Lady Tremaine were about to tell her a secret.
“We spent much of the time talking about his home, how lovely it was and how lonely he’s been since his wife passed away. He talked of wanting a mother for his daughter, someone to raise her, and to be a wife to him. He spoke of combining our wealth to create a secure future for our children, and for ourselves,” she said, drifting off to their conversation, remembering how much she wanted him to kiss her. But he was far too much the gentleman to do so.
“Did he ask you to marry him?” her friend asked, clearly eager to see if she could commend herself on her matchmaking skills.
“Not yet. I think he wanted to see if I was disposed to the idea before proposing,” said Lady Tremaine, still looking at the bit of thread on her sleeve.
She didn’t want her friend to know how very much she liked this gentleman. She didn’t really want to admit it to herself. It all seemed so sudden, so out of the blue, and she wondered if she was being foolish. But that’s how things were done in these circles—you met someone, married them, and then found out after you were married if you were a good match. If you were, all the better, and if not, then you spent most of your time apart. Most marriages in Lady Tremaine’s circle were about combining families, social capital, and resources. Too few were inspired by actual love. She had been fortunate with her first marriage. Not only did her family approve of the match, but they were a good couple. But she had somehow thought the second time she found love she would do things differently, take her time. And now she found herself dashing into another marriage without knowing much about the gentleman.
Cold Hearted Page 5
