A Perilous Secret

by Jane Wetherby

  “Miss Amelia,” Lord Voss said. “It is an honor to meet any family of Sir Hayward. Welcome to our humble home.”

  “Thank you, Lord Voss,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.

  “No need to be nervous,” Lord Voss said with a chuckle. “My, as timid as a mouse. But as lovely as a lily, isn’t she?” he asked, grinning at Aunt Patience. “Well, I hope you all are hungry. We are in for a real treat this evening. We have ordered an exquisite meal and have invited some friends to help us celebrate the start of our holiday.”

  “How wonderful,” Aunt Patience said.

  “And what say you, Miss Amelia?” Lord Voss asked, turning to me with a handsome grin. “I imagine you will be ready for some frivolity after so many days of travel.”

  A dinner party. I could hardly believe it. I had thought about it during our travels, but we were to attend one that very night.

  I smiled at Lord Voss. “I can hardly wait, my Lord.”

  “That’s the spirit,” he said with a grin.

  5

  After some deliberation, Aunt Patience decided that she was not as pleased with my dress as she had originally thought and instead insisted that I wear the only worthy dress I had brought with me.

  It was the dress I had worn to Mr. Thorne’s ball back before Christmas. It was a soft, pale pink with white trimmings and satin. I was quite fond of it, but I was particular to the new dress that the seamstress had given me.

  “Your new dress is lovely, to be certain,” Aunt Patience said. “However, I think the dress you wore for the ball will be a more appropriate cut for a dinner party. Lord Voss will be inviting some very prestigious guests, of that you can be quite sure.”

  Her words were doing nothing to help my mounting nervousness. I longed to voice my questions of how I was to carry myself, feeling woefully unprepared. What was I to say to these people who were of such higher societal rank than I was? What would we talk about?

  I was still staggered by the sheer opulence of number eleven. It was so lavishly decorated and filled with so many paintings and sculptures and trinkets that I was reminded at every turn that I was insurmountably uncultured. Aunt Patience and Uncle Charles surely understood the importance of having marble statues of cherubs in every room or why the silverware we used seemed to be inlaid with some sort of shimmering stones. Was this what it was to be wealthy?

  “Miss Amelia, are you ready to be escorted down to the dining room?” Mrs. Bower asked, stepping in through the open door to my room.

  I had sat down at the writing desk, admiring the quality of the feathers used for the quills. They were large and wispy, not to mention incredibly colorful. “Oh,” I said, hurrying to my feet. “Yes, I am ready.”

  Mrs. Bower smiled at bowed her head, turning from the room and back into the hall.

  I reprimanded myself. I needed to carry myself with more poise.

  This dinner party would surely be an early end to me; I was not certain my heart could take the stress.

  I followed Mrs. Bower down the stairs, and before I reached the ground floor, I could hear the murmuring voices of many people.

  Fear caused my face to flush. How many people had Lord Voss invited?

  “Ah, Miss Amelia. There you are.”

  I glanced around. At the bottom of the stairs, I found Uncle Charles and Aunt Patience standing with a rather dignified looking woman. She wore a dress and gloves that made Aunt Patience look as if she had lived in my father’s cottage, with delicate lace, pearls, and gems glittering from her fingers and a rather large broach fixed to her bosom. Her hair, which was greying along her ears, was pulled back in a rather elaborate knot at the top of her head, fixed with yet another jeweled trinket.

  “I should like to introduce you to the Lady of the house,” Uncle Charles said, opening his arm to welcome me into their circle. “This is Lady Voss.”

  I knew at once that this woman was not going to be nearly as amiable as her husband. She was what I imagined most lords and ladies to be like. Her chin was held high, and the fan she held in her hands waved gently in front of her face, her nose wrinkled as if she had smelled something foul.

  I dipped into the most graceful curtsy I could muster, lowering my gaze from her. She carried herself as if she were royalty, and it caused my knees to become weak. “Your Ladyship…” I said in a quiet voice.

  “This is your niece, Sir Hayward?” Lady Voss asked, her stoic face unchanged.

  “Yes, my Lady,” he said. “She is the second oldest in her family.”

  I rose my head and found her regarding me with curiosity. “And yet unmarried?” she asked. “It isn’t as if she is a particularly plain girl. Is she betrothed?”

  “No, my Lady,” Aunt Patience said. “Her eldest sister recently made a very fortunate match.”

  “I see,” Lady Voss said, her cool green eyes shifting slowly off my face and over to Aunt Patience. “So you bring her to Bath in the hopes of finding her a suitable match as well?”

  My face flooded with color.

  “One must strike while the iron is hot, yes?” Aunt Patience said smoothly, a smile stretching across her face. “Miss Amelia is a wonderful young lady, and I am certain we shall find her someone worthy of her beauty.”

  Lady Voss seemed to be a bird with ruffled feathers suddenly. “Yes, well I hope the very best for you, Miss Amelia,” she said with a curt nod in my direction. “For now, you must excuse me. Lord Voss will certainly be ready for dinner soon enough.”

  And with that, she swept across the foyer as gracefully as a swan.

  I let out a breath that I had been holding tightly onto.

  “Do not be so fretful, my dear,” Aunt Patience said. “Lady Voss is perfectly wonderful. We have been friends for many, many years. She is tempered, that is all. Once she knows you, you shall see her warmer side.”

  I followed her silhouette until it disappeared around the corner of the hall and found myself rather unable to believe that a woman like that had any more warmth than a stone at the bottom of a pond.

  I did not have long to worry about Lady Voss’s temperament. Soon, the call was made for us all to go and be seated for the meal.

  The guests were to enter the room in order of their rank, which was an entirely new concept to me. What surprised me further was that I was to follow Aunt Patience directly, who followed two other women, and yet there were still two young ladies to follow in behind me. Never in all my years did I imagine that I would have been of higher prestige than anyone else in the country.

  Aunt Patience walked to her seat beside one of the other ladies, three down from the head of the table. I took the spot at the table directly across from her.

  As we ladies stood at our spots, Lady Voss came in very last and took the seat at the far end of the table, the hostess’s place.

  Then the gentlemen filed in after her. There were several more of them than there were of us ladies, but a few of them seemed quite young. They, too, took their spots at the table, followed by Lord Voss.

  “Welcome, guests, to our humble abode,” Lord Voss said with a broad grin. “Please, be seated.”

  Seemingly as one, we all sat down in our seats, the sound of chairs scraping against the hardwood floor beneath our feet.

  I glanced across the table at Aunt Patience, knowing that following her lead would ensure I would make it through this dinner party in one piece. How had I been so excited for it earlier? I felt nothing but apprehension and fear now.

  The first course was brought to the table, a lovely white soup that smelled heavenly, reminding me that we had hardly eaten that day since breakfast at the inn that morning.

  I found myself eternally grateful that I had spent some time reading books on etiquette before leaving for this trip and late into the nights at the inns we stopped at on our way to Bath. I had never had to worry about how I carried myself, let alone how I ate in front of other people.

  The air around the table was rather stiff as people lowered their spo
ons into their bowls, raising them to their lips, and consumed the soup slowly and methodically.

  Aunt Patience barely made a sound. Her spoon did not scrape the bottom of her bowl, and her mouth did not slurp.

  I found myself more conscious of the way I ate the soup than of the flavor of the soup itself, which really was rather divine.

  Conversation was rather limited, as everyone seemed to be waiting for Lord or Lady Voss to begin the discussion.

  “This soup is exquisite,” said a young man two down from me. He leaned forward to meet the eye of Lady Voss. “Truly, you must give my compliments to the chef.”

  “Of course, Sir Michaels,” she said. “I would be very happy to.”

  In those moments, I missed the conversations I would have with my sisters and my father at our own dinner table, filled with laughter and not nearly as stiflingly formal.

  Lord Voss had promised me frivolity. Instead, it seemed, I was to witness what the elite considered to be amusement.

  Soup gave way to a second course, which was a leg of mutton that was cut and served to us. After the mutton was set down in front of me, I immediately turned my attention back to Aunt Patience, who was cutting her meat into small slices before bringing it to her mouth.

  This was a most uncomfortable way to eat. I felt as if every eye at the table was on me, scrutinizing the way that I brought the meat to my mouth, the way I chewed, or how straight I sat in my chair.

  After the mutton was taken away, small plates of salads and cheeses were brought to the table, and more conversation began to pop up.

  “Sir Hayward, I take it that your trip into Bath was pleasant?” Lord Voss asked, choosing to eat his cheese first and leaving most of his salad behind.

  “It was very pleasant,” Sir Hayward said. “We stayed at many of my favorite inns along the way, including the one in Lord Stentson’s town.”

  “How intriguing,” Lady Voss said. “Did you have a chance to visit?”

  “Not this time, unfortunately,” Sir Hayward said.

  Lady Voss turned and looked at a young man on the other side of the table from me. “Colonel, were you not staying with Lord Stentson’s nephew just a few weeks ago?”

  The young man she was speaking with looked up from his plate, and it was the first time I had properly seen him.

  He was rather tall, with broad shoulders that being a Colonel would bring about. His hair, a cornflower blonde, was closely trimmed like a military man’s, though it seemed he had given it some time to grow a little on the top. His eyes were wide and steely grey but not unkind.

  “Yes, my Lady,” he said. “His nephew is a good friend of mine, and he invited me to stay for a few weeks.”

  “How wonderful,” Lady Voss said. And I saw something I never thought I would. She smiled. “Did you have the pleasure of seeing Lady Stentson? I do miss her so.”

  “No, my Lady, not this trip,” the Colonel said.

  I was having a hard time looking away from the Colonel. He nodded at Lady Voss, but he seemed just as nervous to speak to her as I would have been.

  And… why was my heart beating as quickly as it was?

  It struck me that I had met young men throughout my life. I had even danced with some very amiable ones at Mr. Thorne’s ball. Yet, I had never thought that any of those men were particularly handsome.

  This Colonel, however… He was more handsome than I had ever thought a man could be.

  He looked up and caught me staring at him.

  At once, I looked away, my face flushing scarlet. I didn’t dare look up again until the next course was brought to the table, this time a serving of pheasants that were freshly caught that morning.

  Dinner went on for six more courses, which were finished up with something called ice cream, a delicacy that I had never had the pleasure of trying, and I found myself as greedy as a child wishing for seconds.

  The ladies withdrew to the drawing room for a short while to enjoy some conversation, and the men remained in the dining room to have some after dinner port.

  I stayed near Aunt Patience and said very little as the women spoke, which seemed to be the right choice. Someone as insignificant as I was had no business intruding on their discussion of people that I was entirely unfamiliar with.

  After an hour or so, the group all gathered back together for some cards and light conversation.

  I realized that I was incredibly tired after the long carriage ride the first half of the day and then all the stress of using proper etiquette during dinner. This was supposed to be fun, and all I found myself wishing to do was retire to my own room and rest.

  Perhaps tomorrow would be better after I had some sleep and some space away from all of these prestigious people.

  Aunt Patience and Uncle Charles were engaged in a card game with Lord Voss and Lord Michaels. Some of the other ladies were sitting near the fireplace, fanning their faces with Lady Voss, speaking in low voices of some gossip.

  I was not sure there was a place for me, so I hovered near the bookshelves, my eyes scanning the spines, pretending to be interested.

  As I reached the end of the shelf, however, my eyes fell on a painting that hung between it and the next one.

  It was a lovely piece, and one that seemed familiar to me. It was of an oceanscape, with roiling waves and grey skies.

  I knew this piece. I had seen it somewhere before, though I was certain it had been in a book during my studies at Aunt Patience’s hand when I was younger.

  “It is quite a remarkable piece, is it not?”

  Startled, I looked beside me and found the Colonel standing there, also gazing at the same painting I was.

  His gaze shifted from the picture to me, and I realized his eyes were the same color as the stormy clouds that were made of nothing more than strokes of paint.

  “It—it is, yes,” I said. “I wonder if this is the original.”

  “Oh, certainly it is,” the Colonel said. “When Lord Voss travels, he insists upon bringing some of his most treasured pieces. This I have seen in his parlor back at their permanent residence.”

  I gazed at the painting. It was almost as if I was staring through a window.

  “Have you ever seen the ocean?” The Colonel asked.

  I looked over at him, my heart beginning to race once again. “I never have, no,” I said. “I have lived in the same town for my whole life and have seldom traveled outside of it. What I would not give to see this sight with my own eyes, however.”

  His face split into a smile, both warm and inviting, and I found myself unable to look away. It seems I was living up to Lord Voss’s assessment of myself, that I was nothing more than a timid mouse.

  The Colonel clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes moving smoothly from my face back to the painting. “I have seen it myself, but never on a such a stormy day as this where the waves are so masterfully captured, churning in their anger as they await the inevitable roll of thunder, and flash of lightning.”

  I studied his profile, astounded at his poeticism. To him, this painting was not like any other. He saw it in a much different way than most. He saw deeper.

  “You see anger when you look at it?” I asked.

  “Indeed,” he said. “The white tips of those waves indicate rough waters, you see. I think of rocking boats and swelling winds.”

  “I believe I must disagree with you, sir,” I said. “I see melancholy in this piece. The dark greys and the blues indicate a depth of sorrow that could only be expressed by the lapping of the waves against the rocks, much like how despair strikes at our souls with the force of a gale wind.”

  He turned to regard me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his handsome face. “Well, I’ll be. A young lady who is quite introspective, I see. Not only that, but deeply aware of art and the ways of painters.”

  I found myself blushing as I turned away, hiding my face as I brushed hair from my eyes. “Certainly, sir, you are mistaken. I am nothing more than a humble woman with
—”

  “Ah, Colonel, I see that you have met my niece.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw Uncle Charles standing there smiling at the two of us.

  “Ah, Sir Hayward,” the Colonel said with a well-trained bow. “She and I were simply discussing the finer points of this particular painting, sir.”

  “It is rather lovely, isn’t it?” Uncle Charles asked, staring at it. “So lifelike. You could almost feel the spray of the water on your face, couldn’t you?”

  I attempted to swallow, my throat growing tight.

  “Though I will admit, sir, I do not yet know the young lady’s name,” the Colonel said, his eyes falling on me once again.

  “Oh, well, then let me introduce you,” Uncle Charles said. “Colonel Strickland, allow me to introduce to you Miss Amelia Honeyfield, my niece.”

  Colonel Strickland stood suddenly very straight and lowered his torso into a formal bow, very regimented and practiced. “What an honor it is to meet you, Miss Amelia.”

  “The honor is mine, good Colonel,” I said.

  “Very good,” Uncle Charles said. “Now, Colonel, the Lady Voss has insisted that you join us for the next round of cards.”

  As if thinking the same thoughts, the Colonel and I looked at one another.

  “Perhaps we can continue our discussion of art later?” he asked, somewhat hopeful.

  I smiled at him. “I would like that very much indeed, sir.”

  6

  There was a knock at my door just before nine the following morning.

  I had been awake for some time, already having written a letter home to my father and sisters to inform them of our arrival; I had not had the time the day before. I filled them in with stories from along our journey here, including a particularly delightful moment from our third night when I had the pleasure of rescuing some baby ducks from a small bucket outside the inn. I knew that Susannah in particular would enjoy that story.

  I had also had time to take down my hair and brush it thoroughly, which had given me time to think of all the goings on from the night before… and about one person in particular.