Regency Rumors (The Sinclair Society Series, #1)

by Swafford, Bethany

  Shaking her head, as though she were denying the sight in front of her, Mrs. Burnham moved forward. “Where are the ribbons and beads? The gown is so plain and unremarkable now! The dressmaker insisted the embellishments would draw attention to you! Do you realize how much was spent on that dress?”

  Why wasn’t I surprised that she focused on Eugenia’s gown? She wasn’t wrong about the attention the dress might attract, but it wasn’t the positive attention Eugenia needed, and I had to bite my lip to keep from intruding into the conversation. Beside me, Mary was wringing her hands anxiously. I reached over to rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

  “Mama, I am pleased with the alterations Nelson has done. Come. The carriage is waiting.”

  “We cannot go with you looking like this! What would people say?”

  “What will people say if we don’t go?” her daughter countered with a surprising amount of determination. She began walking towards Wilder, who was holding the door open. “Mama, we must leave, or we will be late.”

  Her new appearance seemed to have infused Eugenia with confidence. Mrs. Burnham blinked and stared at her daughter a moment before rushing to catch up. “Eugenia, I am very angry with you.”

  Wilder closed the door behind her, and Mary breathed out a sigh of relief. “Mrs. Burnham will dismiss you for certain.”

  “No, I don’t think she will,” I said, pulling my hand back. Mary sent a puzzled look my way. “Well, if you consider what a difficult time she had in acquiring my services in the first place, I don’t imagine she will be anxious to be rid of me so easily.”

  “Not even with me to take over again?”

  Before I answered, I studied her face. There was no threat in the question, just open curiosity. “She did not consider you before,” I said gently. “A few weeks will not have changed her opinion.”

  “I suppose you are right,” she said as she turned from the stairs. “At this rate, I will never get ahead.”

  “Oh, you will,” I said, falling into step beside her. “I will not be here forever, and I have every intention of making sure you are ready to fill my shoes when I take my leave. I expect it won’t be long before Miss Burnham has accepted Mr. Landon’s offer and she will need you when she is a married woman.”

  The maid frowned. “You seem to have everything worked out.”

  “It’s easy to manage someone else’s life,” I said with a slight laugh. We reached the door to Mrs. Burnham’s dressing room. As I was about to push the door open, I paused. “Mary, how long has Mr. Harper been coming to the house?”

  Surprised, Mary tilted her head. “Mr. Harper?” she repeated. “He’s been assisting Mr. Burnham with his business for about five years now.”

  “What kind of business?”

  Mary shrugged. “I have no idea, Miss Nelson. Bridges refuses to breathe a word about it, though he may have told Miss Graham,” she added with a cheeky grin. It seemed I was the last to be aware of my former governess’ affections. “She’s the one you should ask.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “What exactly does ‘cheeky gudgeons’ mean?”

  Shaking my head, I chuckled. “Honestly? I have no idea. My...former employer had a habit of using insults from Shakespeare’s works on any and every occasion. I suppose I simply remember from that.”

  My response sent her off with a frown. I returned to the dressing room, closing the door behind me. My eyes felt tired and heavy. I allowed them a brief rest as I leaned against the door.

  Five years. Was it a coincidence Mr. Harper was in the same place as the one person who knew why my father had come to London? And in the same year, my parents and brother had died?

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows something I need to know,” I said out loud. Sighing, I pushed myself upright. Somehow, I had to have a few words with Mr. Harper and try to get some information from him.

  And Miss Graham. She was keeping more from me than I’d initially thought. Why was she continually leaving her charges for errands, and at this late hour?

  MRS. BURNHAM WAS IN a much different frame of mind when she returned late that night. She raved about the stir that Eugenia had made at the dinner party, and how Landon had been unable to keep his eyes off of her. She ended with the triumphant statement that Landon had asked to take Eugenia driving the following day.

  “And did Miss Burnham enjoy herself?” I asked, envying the fact that Mary would hear it all first hand from Eugenia.

  “What does that matter? Landon is the most eligible gentleman to show any interest in Eugenia,” Mrs. Burnham said dismissively. She rose from her dressing table and walked to her bed. “He’s a younger son, to be sure, but my daughter would be lucky to have him and his five thousand a year. Or perhaps someone with more wealth will show an interest now she is more presentable.”

  It was fortunate her back was to me because I was sure I didn’t keep my look of disgust from my face. I was certain Eugenia had a sincere interest in Landon, one that I hoped was reciprocated by the young man in question. Mrs. Burnham’s mercenary viewpoint would most likely only lead Eugenia into heartache and sorrow.

  But why was I even surprised? She’d already shown time and again that Eugenia’s happiness was not the foremost concern in her mind.

  “Will there be anything else, ma’am?” I asked, my tone sharper than it should have been.

  She didn’t seem to notice though. “No,” she said, waving her hand in my general direction. She swept through the doorway into her bedroom, and I breathed out a sigh of relief.

  Putting the dressing room to rights took only a few moments. I glanced in the direction of Eugenia’s room when I stepped out into the hallway. A light flickered through the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor. No doubt she and Mary would be awake for some time.

  A part of me wished I could join them, but I would only bring a damper to their excitement. As much as I yearned for it to be otherwise, I was not Eugenia’s friend, and that was just the way it would have to be while I remained as a lady’s maid. Julie Nelson could do much more for Eugenia than Juliet Sinclair could at the moment.

  I would have to wait until the morning for a more sedate telling of how Eugenia’s evening had been.

  Yawning, I made my way to my room, having only the dim light of a single candle to guide my steps. I paused when I found my door slightly ajar. “Oh, not again. And here I thought everything was going so well,” I said with a sigh. I pushed the door all the way open and stepped in to take stock of the damage.

  On first glance, everything seemed untouched. Then the candlelight glinted on something on my pillow. Frowning, I stepped forward and bent down to have a closer look. My breath left my lips in a rush as I realized a slim pen knife was impaled in my pillow.

  All trace of sleepiness was gone as I stared at the sight. My legs failed to keep me upright, and I fell to my knees by my bed. The destruction of Mrs. Burnham’s dress had been malicious enough, but this? This was outright threatening.

  I realized my hand was shaking dangerously and set my candle down before I set fire to my own bed. I then reached out to grasp the handle and pulled the knife free. It looked nothing like the same instruments I’d seen on the various desks in the Burnham house. In fact, it looked somewhat familiar. “Now where have I seen you before?” I asked, my curiosity taking priority over my fear.

  Turning it over in my hand, I studied the knife. The dragon design suggested the owner was a man. Unable to place it, I laid it on the bedside table and sent a glance towards the door. The fact that there was no lock, and someone had been spiteful enough to leave a knife in my pillow, made me more than a little uneasy.

  Swiftly, I pulled my chair and jammed the back of it under the doorknob. At least that would give me some warning if anyone tried to enter.

  Not that I expected that to happen.

  Well, I hoped it wouldn’t happen.

  Chapter Twelve

  I felt as though I had reached a new
level of tired when Mary roused me in the morning. When I heard the knock, I called out for her to come in. It wasn’t until the door handle rattled and she declared that she couldn’t get in, that I remembered the previous night, and surged to my feet in a panic.

  Stumbling, I made it from my bed, pulled the chair free, and then opened the door. Holding the tray with my tea, the maid looked at me with a quizzical expression. “Sorry, Mary,” I said, rubbing my hand across my eyes. “Please set it down at my table.”

  Mary carried the tray in. “Did you have a problem with Edward?” she asked, referring to the footman. “Is that why you blocked the door?”

  “What? Oh, no.” I stepped closer to my bedside table and picked the paper knife up. “Unless he has a habit of stabbing pillows.”

  “Stabbing—?” Mary repeated. She sent a glance at my pillow and saw the makeshift repair I’d done in the night. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “Why would they destroy one of Mrs. Burnham’s dresses?” I countered, raising my eyebrow at her.

  An embarrassed blush stained her cheeks. “That is something else entirely,” she said defensively, her tone flustered. She bent for a closer look at the opener and shook her head. “I’ve never seen that before. It’s not from this house.”

  That declaration sent a chill through my heart. If it wasn’t from the Burnham home, why did it look familiar? “Then where could it have come from?”

  The maid shrugged and straightened up. “I honestly don’t know. You should tell Mr. Wilder. If a person came into the house without anyone’s knowledge, he needs to know that it happened.”

  “Of course,” I said with a sigh. What Mary had said made sense, though I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with Wilder. Would he wonder why I was targeted? “I’ll speak to him as soon as I’m dressed.”

  “Miss Eugenia wants to tell you about last night.”

  I wasn’t surprised by that at all. I covered my mouth as I yawned and set the paper knife down. “Then, I will be down directly. Mrs. Burnham will not awaken for several more hours, I’m sure.”

  Mary nodded and left the room. Sighing, I sat on the edge of my bed and leaned my head back. I wanted more than anything to crawl back into the warmth of the blankets. After a few minutes of absolute silence, I forced myself onto my feet and went through my morning ablutions, moving slower than I’d ever done before.

  As I reached for my cup of cooling tea I saw the letter. Picking it up, I did not immediately recognize the writing. Breaking the seal, I found a second letter enclosed inside. I pulled the first note and read it.

  Miss Sinclair,

  Mr. Bladen bribed one of the scullery maids to leave this letter in your room. However, I intercepted it. Kindly refrain from informing Miss Rycroft of this as I would very much dislike losing her trust.

  Miss Carter

  Henry Bladen had written to me? A glance at my watch told me that I didn’t have the time to read it there and then, but I didn’t dare leave either missive to be found by someone snooping. I tucked them both into my pocket and slipped the paper knife into my sewing basket.

  Eugenia was up but not dressed, which was surprising considering Mary had already been there. She could not have slept for long, but only excitement showed on her face. “Have I something suitable for a drive in the park, Nelson?”

  “Surely you know the contents of your own wardrobe, Miss Burnham,” I said walking over to the sturdy piece of furniture. I flinched as I realized just how impertinent that sounded.

  Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice. Falling back on her bed, Eugenia groaned. “But I have no carriage costume. I will look like a ninny.”

  “You are exaggerating things, and it does not become you,” I said chidingly, glancing over my shoulder. I’d only had a brother, so to see the antics of a love struck young woman was both an amusing and irritating thing. “You know very well that a riding habit is not absolutely necessary to go driving with a gentleman.”

  As I spoke, I pulled a lovely pale blue walking gown from the wardrobe. I hadn’t expected to need it so soon but it would only take a short time to be made acceptable. It was just the thing for a drive along Rotten Row.

  “He told me I looked lovely last night,” Eugenia said, sitting up. “All of the other guests were so complimentary about my new look, and everyone wanted to speak to me.”

  “Then they all seem to have good sense, which is more than I would have expected.”

  Tilting her head, Eugenia regarded me with a puzzled expression. “How did you know this would work, Nelson?”

  The fact that I wasn’t at all sure the changes would work was probably not something Eugenia needed to hear. “Is your mother going to be at home today, or will you have to accompany her on visits before Mr. Landon arrives?”

  “I think we’re staying at home today.”

  “Excellent,” I said with some relief. “Then there will be no rushing about later on.”

  In no time at all, Eugenia was dressed in a morning gown. It too needed alteration but would be passable until I could alter the walking gown for her.

  “I suppose I should go see my sisters before anyone comes to call,” Eugenia said with resignation. “And Miss Graham has not yet seen my transformation.”

  I could only offer a smile in answer, remembering Miss Graham’s scathing opinion of the whole thing. Eugenia left and I made quick work of tidying her room. There was some time before I needed to wake Mrs. Burnham so I returned to my room.

  It was as I had left it, which was a relief. Now that Mary had suggested it, I knew I should report what had happened. I collected the paper knife and my pillow, the only evidence that my privacy had been invaded, and set off to find Wilder.

  The lowest level of the house was bustling with the usual activity. I kept to the edge, first in the hallways and then in the kitchen, in an attempt to stay out of the way. My presence in the kitchen was noticed almost immediately.

  “Miss Nelson.” Edward, a tall footman, rose from his seat at the table. He was the one who had so impertinently winked at me on my first day. I had been thankful when he kept his distance after that. “What brings you to our part of the house?”

  All movement came to a halt and everyone’s gaze turned to me. “I must speak to Mr. Wilder.” I knew I must look very odd, standing there with a pillow in my hands. “Where might I be able to find him at this hour?”

  “Is there a problem, Miss Nelson?” a deep, disapproving voice asked from behind me.

  With a start, I spun around to face the butler and I heard snickering from someone in the kitchen. “I have a matter to discuss with you in private,” I said to him, stressing the final word.

  Raising an eyebrow, Wilder nodded once and turned. Clutching the pillow to my chest, I followed him to his small office. Speculative whispers drifted after us as we walked, only being silenced when the door was firmly closed behind me.

  “What seems to be the problem?”

  I set my damaged pillow on his desk and drew the knife from my pocket. “When I went to my room to turn in for the night, I discovered that someone had left a rather unpleasant surprise: this knife in my pillow. The late hour kept me from informing you at the time, but I wanted you to be aware of what had happened.”

  “And you believe someone from this household did this?” he asked, a note of disbelief obvious in his voice.

  “I didn’t say that, and I do not believe it to be the case.” I held the blade out to him. “Mary does not believe she has ever seen this paper knife within this house. She was appalled when I showed her.”

  For the first time, concern appeared on his face and he took the blade from me. “She is correct,” he said, studying the item carefully. “I have never seen this design in this house.”

  Knowing that a person had entered my room was unsettling enough, but that it was someone not belonging to the house made it all the more terrifying. Why would they have done so? What purpose would it serve beyond frightening
me?

  Was the aim to frighten me into leaving the Burnhams’ house?

  “How am I to know this isn’t an elaborate prank on your part, Miss Nelson?”

  At Mr. Wilder’s suspicious question, I drew myself up to my highest height, which wasn’t all that impressive. “I have no need to embarrass either myself or you with such an action,” I said unable to keep the haughtiness from my tone. “I am here to look out for Miss Burnham’s wellbeing. Causing trouble would not be helpful to that end.”

  The corner of his lips quirked, as though he were fighting amusement. Then, he was all seriousness. “I will make inquiries of the staff. All the doors were locked once the family returned last night, and I did not detect any signs of a break-in this morning.”

  Well, that was hardly encouraging. “I will leave it in your capable hands,” I said to him, picking up my pillow. “Good day.”

  “You’ve done a fine thing for Miss Eugenia,” he commented as I began to turn. “And Mary speaks well of you.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Thank you,” was all I could say to that. As an embarrassed blush heated my cheeks, I hurried out. I spotted Molly peeking around a doorway before she ducked back out of sight.

  “Miss Nelson, will you be taking your breakfast now?” Mrs. Wilder asked, striding towards me. “Molly will return your pillow to your room."

  Not exactly the solution I wanted given the damage I suspected the maid had done in my room before. However, Mrs. Wilder had never been so solicitous of me before, and I had no desire to cause any contention. “Of course, Mrs. Wilder.”

  “Molly, don’t think I didn’t see you hiding and eavesdropping,” the housekeeper called out. She took my pillow, raising an eyebrow at the makeshift repair, as the maid stepped into view. “Molly, please replace Miss Nelson's pillow from the linen closet.”

  “There’s no need for that!” I protested in surprise.

  Mrs. Wilder held up her right hand, cutting me off, while offering my pillow to the maid with her other hand. “See to it, Molly.”