Hanging her head, Molly scurried forward, grabbed the pillow, and then hurried off. "I'm afraid I have an urgent matter to resolve with the cook, and will not be able to join you,” Mrs. Wilder said to me. “Mary will inform you when Mrs. Burnham has called for you. Good day, Miss Nelson.”
Left with the housekeeper’s room to myself? Shaking my head at the sudden change of attitude, I went to the room. A tray with tea and toast for my breakfast were waiting for me there.
It was then that I withdrew Henry Bladen’s letter from my pocket. I broke the seal and carefully unfolded the paper. Sipping my tea, I leaned back to read what my almost-betrothed had written to me.
My dear Miss Sinclair,
Perhaps it is not the most proper thing for me to be writing to you, but I feel compelled to reveal the truth. Since our paths have crossed, I have not been able to stop thinking of you and remembering everything we went through so many years ago.
You must believe me when I say that it was not my choice to abandon you. I have never forgiven myself for the hurt my desertion must have caused. I tried to convince myself that you would be better off without me. It was the biggest mistake I have ever made, and I realized it too late.
Cowardice kept me from returning to you, dear Juliet. But now fate has seen fit to put you once more into my life...
My hands crumpled the letter before I finished. Tears had blurred my vision and I strove to blink them away. The anguish he had wrought returned anew, and I fought to push it back to the corner of my heart where it had been locked.
Slowly, the grief shifted into anger. “How dare he?” I said aloud, not recognizing my own voice. “How dare he!”
Did he honestly think that all it would take was an apology and all would be well? That I would accept his attention once again? Was he of the opinion that five years had done nothing to change me as a person?
Breathing out slowly, I smoothed the paper out. But instead of continuing to read, I folded it and slipped it back into my pocket. I did not have the patience to deal with his protestations. Perhaps I never would finish reading it.
I had just taken the last bite of my breakfast when Mary hurried in. “Mrs. Burnham is awake, Miss Nelson.” She paused, a concerned expression appearing on her face. “Miss Nelson, are you well?”
“I am fine,” I said, standing up. “Thank you, Mary.”
She frowned but didn’t say anymore. I resolved to forget about Henry’s letter as I hurried up the stairs.
MRS. BURNHAM WAS SURPRISINGLY easy to satisfy. She was eager to greet visitors and, no doubt, extol the virtues of her dear Eugenia. Hints about courtship with Mr. Landon would no doubt be dropped in conversation as well.
How much I appreciated that my own mother hadn’t been like that. Other ladies had sought some new kernel of gossip about Henry and myself each time they visited. But I had never had a cause for embarrassment from my mother. She allowed me my privacy, and I don’t think I ever thanked her properly.
Before too long, it was time for Eugenia to dress for her drive. She was nervous and fidgety as I helped her into the walking dress, but when Molly appeared with the message that Mr. Landon had arrived, the change was immediate. Eugenia thanked the maid, looped her reticule strings around her wrist, and walked with sedate grace to the entrance hall.
I trailed along behind to make sure she didn’t lose confidence and saw Gerard Landon for the first time since my own season. There could be no doubt that he really was a handsome young man, with dark brown hair, almost black, and blue eyes. The way he smiled at Eugenia as he held out his arm told me a great deal about how he really felt.
Together, they made for a striking couple. I couldn’t help a sigh of contentment as I watched them walk out of the house, arm in arm. Young love was a beautiful thing to behold, and I had every certainty that this romance would flourish.
Unlike my own.
Mr. Wilder closed the door behind them and sent an almost fatherly smile in my direction. I nodded in acknowledgment before I returned to my work. With Eugenia’s courtship well on its way, I could finally focus on the main reason I had come to the Burnham house: clearing my family’s name.
And I still had no idea how exactly I was going to do that with Mr. Burnham away.
Chapter Thirteen
Two days later, while altering Eugenia’s wardrobe, I was pulled away from my work by an urgent message. I was wanted in the library. When I arrived, Mrs. Burnham was frowning at a letter in her hands. “Is there a problem, ma’am?” I asked when she didn’t say anything for a long minute.
She barely glanced up. I suspected she had already begun advertising for a maid to replace me. I’d hoped once she saw how well Eugenia looked with her new hairstyle, she would forgive me for my impertinence. It hadn’t happened.
“My husband will be returning at the end of the week,” she said, a cool note in her voice. She didn’t sound pleased or unhappy, just matter of fact. “There will be a great deal for you and the rest of the staff to do before he arrives.”
Me? A great deal for me to do? My mind immediately went to the amount of work still left for Eugenia’s wardrobe. If I had any hope of getting all the gowns done, all my time would be needed. How much household work would be expected of a lady’s maid?
“I will bring Mrs. Wilder up to confer with you,” I said, slowly. It was a surprise that the housekeeper hadn’t been summoned along with me. Unless Mrs. Burnham wanted to drive a further wedge between the rest of the staff and me by making me her messenger. “I shall, of course, manage my responsibilities as expected.”
“I am certain that Landon will be requesting an interview with Mr. Burnham very soon,” my employer informed me, folding her letter. She placed the missive on top of the desk. “You must ensure that Eugenia keeps his attention until he has proposed to her.”
There was much I wanted to say in response to her comment, but I held my tongue. I was getting good at that.
“Bridges will be pleased to have Mr. Burnham back, I’m sure.” That was something I’d been wondering about. “How strange that Mr. Burnham went away for so long without his valet.”
The older woman grimaced as she leaned back in her seat. “It is an odd habit he’s developed these past five years,” she said, sounding petulant. “Nothing I say on the matter will convince him that such an action is just not done. He does as he pleases and cares not that it vexes me greatly.”
An odd habit indeed! Though I recalled that my father had traveled to London without a valet that last fatal journey he’d made to London. Was there a connection? So many things were pointing back to the year my parents died!
“Well don’t just stand there, Nelson! Did I not just say there was much to be done?”
Pulled from my thoughts, I nodded. I suppose I should be grateful I had gotten away with as much impertinence as I had. “Of course. I will locate Mrs. Wilder for you immediately.”
I made my escape without further hesitation. The news of Mr. Burnham’s return was welcome. Finally, I would be able to meet the one person who could clear my family’s name, and perhaps grant my family some closure, if he was willing to favor me with an explanation for my father’s actions five years ago.
“You look pleased.”
Bridges’ voice startled me, and I looked up to find him only a few feet away. “Good news, Bridges,” I said, determined not to let him see me flustered. “Mr. Burnham is to return.”
An expression I couldn’t quite identify crossed the valet’s face. “Is he?” he asked. “This is a certain thing?”
“So Mrs. Burnham tells me.”
He looked decidedly pleased then. “Then, I shall see to it that his chambers are in order. Thank you for informing me, Miss Nelson.”
The way he said ‘Nelson,’ almost as though he were mocking me, sent a chill down my back. I was relieved that he turned and hurried away in the opposite direction. Puzzling over the valet’s strange behavior, I made my way down to Mrs. Wilder’s room. The do
or was open, and she was in conversation with the cook.
I cleared my throat to attract her attention. “Excuse me, Mrs. Wilder. Mrs. Burnham wishes to speak to you in the library.”
The two women exchanged quick looks. “For what reason?” Mrs. Wilder asked.
Always there was that slight disrespect where Mrs. Burnham was concerned. Perhaps that accounted for some of the hostility that was directed at me. I wondered why they chose to stay in the house when they disliked their mistress so much.
“Mr. Burnham is to return at the end of the week. We must make the necessary arrangements.”
The change in their attitude was instantaneous and answered my question about who they were loyal to and why they stayed. “I must plan the master’s favorite meals,” the cook declared standing up. “No doubt he will have been suffering from inferior dishes.”
“Wilder will ensure the best wine will be ready to complement the meal,” the housekeeper assured her, also rising. “We don’t have much time to get this house shining.”
Their restrained enthusiasm was astonishing. “May I ask something?” They both turned to me, with slightly impatient expressions on their faces. “Do either of you know why Mr. Burnham would go on a journey without Bridges? It seems strange that a gentleman would travel without the comfort of his valet.”
“We’ve often wondered the same thing, Miss Nelson,” Mrs. Wilder admitted. “No one can seem to find an explanation for it. Bridges certainly won’t say a word on the matter.”
Not wanting to keep them from their work, I nodded and left the room. Once I returned to my room, I picked up the dress I’d been working on, determined to get as much done as I could.
Where before I’d only had idle thoughts of Eugenia’s growing happiness to consider, now I had the imminent return of Mr. Burnham to occupy my mind. I could finally learn something and perhaps put this farce to an end.
But the thought of returning to my aunt in Fairfield House did not hold the delight it once had. To go back to the monotony of having only my aunt’s company seemed a bleak future. For as dearly as I loved Aunt Beth, I could foresee no alteration in my circumstances.
“But I will have peace of mind,” I reminded myself, speaking softly. I smoothed the soft fabric beneath my fingers and shook my head. Once I knew the truth of the matter and had my family’s good name restored, I could be content with life.
FOUR DAYS WERE ONES of non-stop activity for the household in general. Mary was kept from Eugenia’s side the entire time, which was a sore point for them both. I wasn’t delighted by the turn of events either, as it meant I was the sole person to calm Eugenia’s nerves about Landon’s increasingly frequent visits; a difficult feat when I also had Mrs. Burnham to satisfy at the same time.
Through it all, I kept watching for an opportunity to speak to Mr. Harper. Oddly enough, though, there was no sign of the young man in the house. Before he had been practically around every corner, but now when I wished for him, he was nowhere to be found.
It was vexing, to say the least.
Wilder said nothing more about the knife in my pillow. My belongings remained untouched in my room during the day. I kept my chair wedged firmly under my doorknob every night, for my peace of mind.
At some point in the mad chaos of preparations, I’d moved my workspace downstairs to the table in the servant's hall. It seemed more natural to be closer to the other staff than to take up their time having to summon me from my room.
Molly glared at me every time she hurried past. Mary would always pause to see what I had done, and I would take the opportunity to counsel her on the styles that would most flatter Eugenia. Cook unbent enough to keep the tea flowing whenever I was near the kitchen. The footmen attempted to become more friendly, but Wilder discouraged that straight away.
So when Molly came running with the news that Mr. Burnham’s carriage had just pulled up, I was sitting at the kitchen table, having tea with the cook and Mary. Everyone was on their feet before I could even comprehend what the sudden fuss was about. I stayed where I was as Mrs. Wilder snapped out quick orders.
Molly and Mary were sent to unpack the master’s trunks, which the footmen were dispatched to carry up. Cook began to boil a fresh pot of water sure that tea would be called for.
Folding my work, I stored it in my basket and rose to my feet. No one seemed to notice when I left the room. I carried the basket up to my room then hurried back down to the dressing room.
“There you are, Nelson! Why are you never here when I need you? Hurry! My husband has arrived, and I must go down to greet him. Why did you put me in this awful dress?”
Pointing out that she had insisted on wearing that particular dress would have been a waste of my breath. She was changed, and out of the room in the fastest time I’d ever managed. Maybe she was eager to see her husband after so long, but she’d never shown such eagerness before.
I really couldn’t understand her.
The sound of running footsteps passed the door, accompanied by the familiar arguing of Calliope and Daphne. Stepping into the hallway in time to see the pair vanish down the stairs, I shook my head. From their breathless excitement, there could be no doubt who was their favorite parent.
“Amusing children, aren’t they?”
“That is one word for it, Mr. Bridges,” I said, unable to keep from flinching. The valet stood in the hallway. The man had a talent for moving silently that I was beginning to detest. “Should you not be overseeing the unpacking of Mr. Burnham’s trunks?”
The man smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. “Molly and Mary are handling the task well enough. You’ve not met Mr. Burnham have you, Miss Nelson?”
I opened my mouth to agree, but Miss Graham spoke up before I could say a word. “I don’t suppose either of you has seen those two rapscallion charges of mine?” she asked. “I turn my back for one moment, and off they go.”
“I believe they have gone down to greet their father, Miss Graham,” I informed her, grateful for her presence. Bridges’ intense stare was unnerving. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to pry them away.”
The governess heaved a sigh, her eyes on the valet. “I suppose I will have to occupy my time some other way, then.”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I realized her suggestion was aimed at Bridges. When had Miss Graham become so forward and bold? She would have scolded me from dawn to dusk if she’d ever caught me implying such a thing!
“Excuse me,” Bridges said. “I believe I am needed in the master’s rooms.”
“Poor Bridges,” Miss Graham said with a sigh as her eyes followed him down the corridor. She moved closer to my side. “He’s going to be so busy now.”
“Yes, the reprieve from his duties is over,” I agreed with little sympathy. “It’s not every valet who is fortunate enough to have a master leave him behind every time he goes on a journey.”
Miss Graham frowned at me. “Juliet, there is no call to be so disdainful of Bridges. Just because you’ve decided to play out this farce doesn’t mean that you can make fun of those who have to support themselves with such work.”
“I wasn’t making fun of him, Miss Graham,” I said, lowering my voice. The last thing I wanted was to be overheard. “And you know why I’m doing this.”
“Well, now Mr. Burnham has returned, you can end this travesty,” my former governess said, a sharp edge to her voice. “And then you can leave.”
“Do you want to get rid of me?”
“Excuse me, Miss Nelson,” Miss Graham said abruptly. “I have work to do, as I’m sure you do as well.”
She walked past me, towards the staircase. I twisted to watch her go, puzzled by the change in her demeanor. I’d known she wasn’t pleased with my decision to take the position, but she seemed outright angry with me now.
Why now; when I was so close to finding answers?
Shaking my head, I forced myself to move on. I had to plan how I was going to meet with Mr. Burnham.
THERE WAS NO PLANNING necessary, as it turned out. Eugenia and Mrs. Burnham went to the opera, accompanied by Mr. Landon. As I cleaned up the dressing room, wondering how it could get in such disarray when I tried so hard to keep it organized, Mary appeared at the door. Mr. Burnham wished to speak to me.
The time had finally come. I took a deep breath and smoothed my dress. “There’s no need to be nervous,” Mary assured me. “I’m sure Mr. Burnham just wants to meet you. He’s always careful about the staff and who stays.”
“Mrs. Burnham has no doubt been complaining about my impertinent ways.”
The expression on Mary’s face changed to one of apprehension. “Mr. Burnham has always been fair,” she said, her optimism waning slightly.
Forcing a smile, I nodded. As I made my way down to the library, I ran through my list of questions. Why had my parents come to London after my brother died? Why would someone try to implicate my family as traitors?
When I reached the door, I felt a moment of uncertainty. I couldn’t remember if this was an instance where a servant would knock before they entered or not. Taking a chance, and hoping I was making the right choice, I grasped the doorknob, pushed the door open, and stepped into the room where my journey as a lady’s maid had begun.
“You must be Nelson.” Mr. Burnham looked up from his newspaper. He gestured to the space in front of his desk. “Please come in.”
Swallowing hard, I walked to the chair and stood behind it. Mr. Burnham took the time to arrange his newspaper neatly, giving me an opportunity to study him. Since the last time I’d seen him, his hair had gone completely gray, and his face had lines that hadn’t been there before. It made me a bit sad that such a kind, energetic man should show the years on his face.
“I’m told I have you to thank for Eugenia’s transformation.”
I folded my hands on the back of the chair and nodded. “Yes, sir.” There was no change in his expression, and I had no idea what he thought about the dramatic change in Eugenia’s appearance.
Regency Rumors (The Sinclair Society Series, #1) Page 13