Regency Rumors (The Sinclair Society Series, #1)

by Swafford, Bethany

  I saw her frown in the mirror. “My dresses?” she asked, her tone skeptical. “Why do you want to alter my dresses? Miss Blair swore it was in the latest fashion.”

  Ah. That cleared up a great deal of the situation. If a dressmaker failed to show her client to the best advantage and could not convince her client of the right cut, then she did not know her craft well enough. Miss Blair was, more than likely, new to the profession, and didn’t think she was allowed to stand up to Mrs. Burnham, who loved bows and adornments far too much. Eugenia suffered because of it.

  “The latest fashion, maybe,” I said, trying to keep my tone kind. “But I think a different style would fit you better. Trust me, Miss Burnham, I know what I’m doing.”

  Anticipation made her eyes light up. “Oh, thank you, Nelson!” She twisted around in her chair and grabbed my hands. “Mary thinks you’re the next best thing to a miracle worker.”

  Kind words from Mary? Had the world come to an end? “Well, I don’t know about a miracle, but I will do what I can. Now, Miss Burnham, it’s time for you to attend the opera.”

  “Yes, it is,” Eugenia said with a wide smile. Her eyes were sparkling now, and she looked all the prettier for it. “I hear it’s going to be a magnificent performance.”

  I raised an eyebrow as I stepped back, surprised by the statement. She had a fondness for music. Well, that was a first. I placed her cloak on her shoulders and tied it securely. “Enjoy your evening, Miss Burnham.”

  “I can’t wait to hear what you plan to do,” she said before she hurried out of her room.

  Breathing out, I leaned against the small dressing table. I had a few hours to decide exactly what I could do for her. I couldn’t disappoint her. Not when she was so excited to receive my help.

  MISS GRAHAM CAME TO my room after the family left and the younger Burnham daughters were put to bed. “You made quite the impression on the girls,” she commented, her voice failing to sound casual. “I didn’t realize that you liked children, Juliet.”

  I looked up from the tiny desk that had been grudgingly provided for my use, where I was in the middle of composing a note. “I passed a few tolerable hours with them, and you assume that I like children? You should not make assumptions, Miss Graham.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have expected you even to tolerate them for a moment.” The governess settled on the edge of my bed as had become her custom. “They wouldn’t stop crowing about the time with you. Their talk nearly made me jealous.”

  That prompted a laugh from me, and I turned back to my message. “I’m glad you came,” I said, changing the subject. “Could you have this delivered as soon as I’m finished? It would raise questions if I were to do so.”

  “Who is it for?”

  Signing my name at the bottom, I blew on the ink to help it dry quicker. “I am arranging for Eugenia’s hair to be cut. Mama’s hairdresser is still in town, I believe, and he will be happy to help.”

  “You cannot cut Eugenia’s hair!”

  “I assure you I am not the one who will be doing the cutting,” I said patiently as I sprinkled sand over the page so that the ink wouldn’t smear when I folded the paper. “Heaven knows what the result would be if I even tried! No. Monsieur Lemaire will do so if he is available.”

  “Monsieur Lemaire? A Frenchman? Juliet, have you lost all your senses?”

  “You cannot deny that when it comes to fashion and style, the French know their craft better than anyone,” I said, with an amused smile. I didn’t feel the need to explain that Monsieur Lemaire was merely an alias for a clever Englishman who knew to take an advantage when he could. “I would trust no one else to do this task.”

  Miss Graham shook her head. “Why must you cut her hair? Such long hair is admired.”

  “That may be, but you don’t have to work with it.” I folded the sheet of paper and scrawled Monsieur Lemaire’s name across it. “It will be much more manageable once it is trimmed, and I believe it will compliment Eugenia’s face. You’ll see I’m right once it’s done.”

  There was a skeptical look on her face when I glanced her way. “One of these days, you’re going to learn you’re not as clever as you think you are, Juliet,” she warned, even as she took the message from my hand. “And something you decide to do will end in disaster. I just hope Eugenia isn’t the victim when it happens.”

  I frowned at her. “Why do you say that? Nothing I’ve done so far has ended badly.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m saying it. You’re going to let it go to your head, and you will think you can get away with anything.”

  Her words gave me pause. “No, I don’t think I will. I know I am not infallible, Miss Graham. I’m only human.”

  “It will, Juliet, because you are only human. All I ask is you remember Eugenia is a person, and not some doll, or chess piece, for you to play with and then throw away when you get bored.”

  “I would never do that!”

  “But as soon as you think you have your own problem solved, and your family name redeemed, you will walk away,” she said pointedly.

  Dumbfounded, I stared at her. “Why are saying these things? You make me sound like a terrible person!”

  Miss Graham sighed and raised her hand to her forehead. “You have given no thought to the consequences of your actions,” she said, her words deliberate and careful. “Eugenia has faith you will help her attract Landon. Her heart is in this, and you will break it if you’re not careful.”

  “What do you want me to say?” I asked in frustration. “I have been and will continue to be careful, Miss Graham. You know why I am here. I have a great deal to lose if I am not cautious in how I proceed.”

  “The reason you are here is the very thing I am concerned about. What happens once you learn what you wish to know? What will happen to Eugenia once you return to your proper place in society?”

  While I hadn’t thought that far in advance, I did know one thing: Eugenia was counting on me now. I would not be able to leave her without knowing she was going to be happy, and she had achieved what she most desired.

  “I will not abandon something I’ve started. You have my word on that.”

  My former governess did not look even slightly satisfied with my answer. She pressed her lips together, before standing up. “I hope you know what you are doing.” Fingers fluttered to her temple. “I find I have a headache.”

  My note to Monsieur Lemaire was still in her hand. “Can you add my letter to the post or should I see to it myself?”

  She glanced down as though she’d forgotten what had started this whole disagreement. “I will. Good night, Juliet.”

  Turning, she left my room without another word. As I drummed my fingers on the desk, I frowned. The last thing I needed was another obstacle. I shook my head and stood up. Now was as good a time as any to see whether I could get into Mr. Burnham’s office.

  NO ONE WAS IN SIGHT as I approached the door. The rest of the staff were enjoying some time to themselves below stairs or handling any evening responsibilities. Would I find the office door locked?

  The door handle didn’t move when I tried to turn it. Without a key, I wasn’t going to get in. “Are you looking for something, Miss Nelson?”

  With a start, I pulled my hand back and turned to face Mr. Bridges. The man had an eyebrow raised. “I...had a question for Mr. Harper, and thought I would find him here,” I said, thinking quickly. “Has he already left for the evening?”

  Mr. Bridges’ eyes narrowed. “I was not aware Mr. Harper had come today. Perhaps I can answer your question.”

  I waved my hand and backed away from the door. “Oh, no. It was not important. I wouldn’t want to waste your time. Good evening, Mr. Bridges.”

  Swiftly, I walked towards the servants’ staircase. I couldn’t resist glancing over my shoulder. Mr. Bridges had the office door open and was entering. He closed the door and blocked my view.

  My heart raced and it wasn’t until I was in my room that I could start
to relax. At least I had made the attempt. To calm myself, I decided to select the gowns I would alter for Eugenia. It would be easier without anyone looking over my shoulder to comment on what I should or shouldn’t choose.

  When I went down to Eugenia’s room, I wasn’t surprised to find Mary there. What I was shocked to see was a pile of gowns of all sorts on the bed. “Miss Eugenia said you wished to make adjustments to her wardrobe,” the maid said nervously. “These are the colors that flatter her the most. I thought you might want to start with these.”

  “Thank you.” I’d left Eugenia before she went down to join her mother. Mary must have spoken to her after I’d left. “I take it you agree with my plan?”

  Mary raised an eyebrow. “At this point, I think anything will be an improvement for Miss Eugenia.”

  As long as we were on the same side for the moment, I could take the time to pass on the little words of wisdom Carter had bestowed on me. “A proper lady’s maid must make sure her mistress looks her best,” I said as I examined the garments. “To do otherwise would reflect badly on the maid.”

  “Then, why do you allow Mrs. Burnham to wear those shades of pink?”

  Mary’s expression of pure innocence didn't fool me. “Those pinks keep her happy, and I will not threaten Miss Burnham’s peace by attempting to alter Mrs. Burnham’s desires. I would be dismissed if I tried, and then where would Miss Burnham be?”

  Leaving her to consider my words, I turned all my attention to the dresses. She had done an excellent job of selecting a variety for me to choose from. The lines of the dresses were well done, and the ostentatious adornments easy to remove. I made a point of informing Mary of my approval as I laid my selections over my arm. I took a morning dress and two evening gowns so I would have options for when Eugenia could present herself.

  Was I getting ahead of myself, already planning for a presentation of Eugenia’s improved appearance? Perhaps. Who knew if my appeal to Monsieur Lemaire would be answered. But I needed to believe everything would go well.

  “If you tell me what needs else to be done, I can help,” Mary said. “Two pairs of hands are better than one.”

  “I expect a message from someone who will be able to help with Miss Burnham’s hair,” I said, thinking through the plan I had. First, alter the dresses, then Eugenia’s hair. “When it arrives, would you make sure it gets to me? Beyond that, I don’t think there’s much we can do until then.”

  “There’s hope for her hair?”

  The astonishment in her voice made me laugh. “Indeed there is. I will admit, the unruly nature of such thick hair puzzled me at first. However, I am consulting an expert on the matter. We will then have a better idea of how to proceed.” I frowned at the gowns that were spread out on Eugenia’s bed. “Shall I help you put the rest away?”

  Mary waved a hand. “I’ll take care of it, Miss Nelson. You have work to do, have you not?”

  That had to be the first time she ever referred to me as ‘Miss Nelson’ and not sounded resentful about it. “Indeed I do. Thank you, Mary,” I replied, with a smile. “If I should think of some way you can assist Miss Burnham in this project, I will let you know.”

  Feeling in charity with the everyone, I left the bedroom to return to my room and my sewing basket. I had significantly added to my workload, but I had every certainty it would all work out for the best.

  “Miss Nelson, I believe.”

  Startled, I looked up. Oswyn Harper stood a few yards in front of me at the head of the stairs. Engrossed in my contemplations, I hadn’t realized he was there. “Mr. Harper.” I bobbed a respectful curtsey. “Mrs. Burnham and Miss Burnham are out.”

  “I am aware.” He gazed at me in a perplexed way that made me uneasy.

  Why was he here, yet again, when he had no right to be?

  I couldn’t question him, though, however much my curiosity burned to know all. If I didn’t know better, I would have said he wished to court Eugenia. No doubt, if the ton knew how often he was in the house, there would be whispers he was doing just that, which would not be suitable for Eugenia if she wanted to catch Mr. Landon’s eye.

  “Excuse me, sir, I have work to do.” I took a step forward to continue on my way. He didn’t move from where he stood, blocking my path. “Is there something you require, sir?”

  “I was curious about your references, Miss Nelson,” he said, his gaze not moving from me. “Did you bring them with you when you first applied for the position?”

  My references? I hadn’t any references, but what was it Mrs. Burnham had said about references when I had been interviewed? “Why do you ask?”

  “Let’s call it curiosity.”

  Why was he suddenly so interested in me? What had I done to attract his attention? This was the last thing I needed to deal with now.

  “I submitted my references when I first responded to the advertisement for the position,” I informed him primly, pleased I remembered Mrs. Burnham mentioning this fact during my accidental interview with her. “You may ask Mrs. Burnham if you require confirmation.”

  He frowned, apparently not liking my response. “How strange,” he murmured almost to himself. “You remind me of someone.”

  Oh, dear. I had to get away before he thought about it anymore.

  “Mr. Harper, there you are. I’ve been expecting you.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as Bridge stepped from Mr. Burnham’s room. “Mr. Bridge,” I said with a nod of my head.

  The valet inclined his head in return, and Mr. Harper turned his attention towards him. Ducking my head, I took advantage of the distraction to hurry on my way. As I went down the stairs, I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder for one more look.

  In doing so, I made eye contact with Mr. Harper. Feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment, I looked away first and tried to keep from tripping over the dresses in my arms. I made my way as fast as I could to my bedroom, pressing my back against the door once I was safe inside.

  Questions filled my mind. What were Mr. Harper and Bridges up to?

  “I don’t need another mystery to solve.” I deposited my new project on the bed. As long as he did not try to interfere with my work, I would leave well enough alone.

  At least, that’s what I tried to convince myself I would do.

  Chapter Ten

  One of the things I dreaded most about my position was breaking my fast in Mrs. Wilder’s sitting room.

  Given how things had begun between the housekeeper and me, it was not a meal I relished, no matter how hungry I was. I would take my time leaving the family’s part of the house. I knew as soon as I entered the servants' section, my resolve to be unaffected by her brusque manner would be put severely to the test.

  The day after I’d made the first steps toward helping Eugenia, I knocked lightly on Mrs. Wilder’s door, hoping she would already be going about her business. My heart sank when she bid me to enter, and I opened the door to the bright, cheerful room. “Good morning, Mrs. Wilder,” I said, determined to be as polite as possible. “How are you today?”

  The woman looked up from her desk. For the briefest second, she seemed surprised to see me. “You are early, Miss Nelson.” She looked back down at the papers on her desk. Her statement puzzled me, for I thought I had arrived at the same time I usually did. However, before I could work on it any further, she asked, “How did you find the mistress and Miss Eugenia this morning?”

  “Mrs. Burnham was exhausted from her activities last night and went back to sleep, and Miss Burnham seemed to be ready to face the day,” I said, moving further into the small sitting room. I had made it a point not to sit down until invited, as a way of respecting her domain. “You appear to have a great deal to do, Mrs. Wilder.”

  “Not all of us have the leisure to rise so late in the morning.” She waved a hand, a habit I had assumed she’d learned from Mrs. Burnham. “Sit down already. Mary will be bringing your tray in soon.”

  Taking a seat, I watched her at her work. In
the hierarchy of the servants’ hall, she would technically be above me, even though I did not come under her control. If I were to sway her opinion to at least look on me as—I couldn’t think of the right term—maybe someone who was useful, perhaps the rest would follow. And my task would become much easier to complete.

  “It looks as though we will have fine weather today.”

  The weather was a general enough topic I hoped would be the start of a conversation. However, it was a vain hope for I received no response. “You have served the Burnhams for many years, I presume?” Perhaps something closer to her own life would prompt an answer.

  “I have.”

  Her short tone did not encourage conversation. But I knew I needed all the help from the other servants I could get. “You must know the family well then,” I continued, stubbornly. “You’ve watched Miss Burnham grow up?”

  Setting her pen down, Mrs. Wilder turned in her chair towards me. Finally, I had her attention. “Exactly what information do you wish to learn, Miss Nelson?” she asked, her tone bordering on hostile once again. “Do not think you can sweet talk anything out of me, or anyone else in the household.”

  “Mrs. Wilder, if I am to be of any help to Miss Burnham in attaining a good match, I simply must know more about her and her family.” I raised my eyebrow. “Isn’t that so?”

  “And why would you be concerned about Miss Eugenia's matrimonial prospects? It has nothing to do with you.”

  I barely kept from sighing. Would I ever overcome her hostility? “Is it not the duty of any good lady’s maid to encourage and aid her mistress? It is my responsibility to ensure she looks her best when she faces society. I have a plan I hoped you would be willing to assist me with.”

  Mrs. Wilder continued to stare at me, and it rattled my already unsteady nerves. The expression in her eyes had changed from dislike to slight puzzlement. At least, I had her attention. “You speak like an educated lady, Miss Nelson.”