Blythe Court (Novella)

by Nora Covington

  “Oh, my lady,” she replied, looking startled by my entrance. “I’ve repaired the damage to your dresses.”

  Controlled and with all the dignity I could muster, knowing she must have made love to my husband hours before, I slowly entered. I picked up my blue dress to examine the needlework. The sleeve had been mended, but shabbily as far as I was concerned. When I discovered sloppier hemming on my yellow day dress, I lost composure.

  “This is careless work,” I growled. Fuming over her poor stitching, I ripped the crooked threads from the hem. “If you need more training in sewing, I suggest you speak with Mrs. James on how to improve your skills.” After gathering both dresses in my arms, I shoved them back at her in haste. “Return these when they have been properly repaired.”

  The shocked expression on Melanie’s face confirmed I had frightened and wounded her emotions. She flushed profusely. I did not care if I hurt her feelings. At that moment, I wanted to call her vulgar names and slap her face until it stung with pain. Tears threatened to fill my eyes, so I turned my head and instructed her to depart.

  “Leave. I wish to be alone,” I gruffly demanded.

  She said nothing and scurried away. I slammed my door, sat down on my bed, and wept.

  Multiple Choices

  The circumstances that I faced caused me to reflect upon the person I had become in life. After my marriage and its consummation, I sensed a growing maturity of my personality. My station in life had become one of a wife, marchioness, and mistress of the grand estate in which I lived. Unbeknownst to me, however, my newfound position of responsibility would be severely tested for character and stamina.

  Early in my marriage, when I realized John did not love me, I reluctantly accepted my position in his life. Of course, I clung to the hope that one day it would change. Now that I knew his heart unequivocally belonged to another woman, it entirely altered my perspective.

  I had been cheated out of love to no fault of my own. The unfairness of my state of affairs presented difficult choices for me to make. Two paths stood before me. I could be a victim or a victor in this complicated scenario. Whether I gained victory out of spite or cleverness would reveal much about my character. I hoped my cleverness would prevail if I were to keep John from hating me in the end. It would be a delicate task to accomplish because acting spiteful would clearly bring more satisfaction to my wounded heart.

  When the dinner hour arrived, I dressed without Melanie’s summons for assistance. I feared my raw emotions would strike out, and I needed time to withdraw my claws. John waited for me in the parlor. He held a drink in hand and gazed out of the window when I entered.

  “Good evening,” I said, walking toward him. No servants were around to find my actions out of place, so I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “How was your day?”

  My affectionate display apparently surprised him by the widening of his eyes. Outward exhibitions of affection, even in the home in which I grew up, were considered improper behavior. There were traditions I wished to abolish in my marriage. I saw no harm in expressing endearment toward my husband, within reason, of course.

  “Fine,” he said, sounding noncommittal.

  Feeling the need to put him on the spot further, I prodded for more. “Mr. Rhodes told me you and Mr. Williams were at the hunting lodge this morning discussing repairs.” John pulled his gaze away and took a sip of his drink. I anxiously awaited his lie.

  “Yes, the roof needs mending and a few other items.”

  “Do you intend to use it on a regular basis again for hunting or as the gamekeeper’s residence?” I knew exactly what he used it for but restrained my imagination.

  “Simply general repairs,” he answered. “And what about you? Mr. Rhodes told me you took an unplanned visit to see your mother today. Is everything all right?”

  He finally turned and looked at me. There was not a speck of guilt in his eyes, which I found irritating. Didn’t he possess a conscience?

  “Oh, yes,” I answered, flashing a deceitful smile. “I had an overwhelming urge to share with her our honeymoon and the many places we visited.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear of it,” he said.

  He swallowed my lie, and I felt the pleasure of being devious.

  “You know, I have been thinking,” I said.

  “About what?”

  “It might be pleasant to host a small dinner party and invite your friends. I would like to become more acquainted with your social circle.” I reached out and touched his forearm to encourage a favorable answer. “Would that be all right?”

  “I don’t see why not,” he said. “We can discuss the guest list tomorrow.”

  “Excellent,” I replied. “By the way, did you apologize to Melanie for snapping her head off this morning? Really, John, I felt terrible for the poor girl.”

  His actions were suspect, the more I thought about it. No doubt, he wanted to set up some type of stage to show his dislike of her, which made me wonder if they planned the intrusion together. If so, it had been well played on their part.

  “Not yet,” he mumbled.

  “Well, now is as good a time as any.” I glanced down the hall and caught sight of the butler. “Mr. Rhodes, might I have a word with you?”

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Please ask Melanie to come here to the parlor as soon as possible.”

  “As you wish,” he replied, stepping away to take care of my request.

  “What are you doing?” John scowled at me.

  “It is obvious unless I give you the opportunity, that poor girl is going to continue to be afraid of you. She is my lady’s maid, and I would like her to stay and not be frightened away.”

  The mortified expression on his face gratified me after the pain of betrayal I had endured earlier in the day. When Melanie entered the parlor, he stiffened like a marble statue and turned ashen. She, on the other hand, halted at the threshold, shocked by her summons. Her hands clutched together in front of her waist. Perhaps she feared I had discovered their adulterous affair. I enjoyed the moment immensely, seeing them both in agony during the awkward encounter.

  “Melanie, my husband has something he wishes to say to you.” John hesitated and shifted his stance. “Go ahead,” I encouraged him. After clearing his throat, he looked at Melanie’s apprehensive face.

  “I apologize for yelling at you this morning and bringing you to tears,” he said in a tremulous voice. “My wife thinks I should have handled the situation differently, and I’m inclined to believe she is right. I humbly beg your pardon.”

  Well done, John, I thought to myself. I glanced over at Melanie. A flash of relief eased across her terrified countenance.

  “I am sorry for barging into her ladyship’s bedchamber. It shall not happen again, your lordship.”

  “Excellent. The matter is settled,” I said, concluding their pained moment. I turned toward Melanie. “You may go now. I will undress this evening on my own and will see you in the morning.” I still could not stand the thought of her touching me after being with my husband. Perhaps tomorrow.

  She glanced at John and curtsied before me. “Yes, my lady. As you wish.”

  After she had left the room, I turned my attention to John. “Thank you,” I said. “Being kind to the staff has always been a priority of mine. I hope we can agree as husband and wife to treat them with respect because of their loyal service.” I purposely emphasized the word “loyal” to make a point.

  He downed his drink. “Yes, you are quite right. I agree.”

  “John, it means a lot to me that we share common ground on one subject.” Even though the situation reeked of deceit, I did want to find agreeable places where we thought alike.

  Mr. Rhodes entered the parlor and announced dinner. I stepped forward and wrapped my arm around my husband. He played the role of the attentive spouse and escorted me into the dining room. We spent a leisurely dinner together, chatting about frivolous subjects. The familiar longing for his love swelled in my h
eart. A part of me wanted to hate him, but I could not. He was my husband. I determined in my heart to fight for him until I won his affections.

  * * * *

  John did not visit my bedchamber at night, which I assumed had been due to his sexual satisfaction earlier in the day. Frankly, I did not want him to touch me—not yet, anyway. The following morning Melanie arrived with a tray in hand and knocked on my door.

  “Yes, who is it?”

  “It’s me, your ladyship,” she replied, sounding timid in her voice.

  “You may come in.”

  When she entered the room, I did not want to hate her. I knew it would only consume me instead. Frankly, I did not know what to feel about Melanie—anger, envy, pity–they were all choices I could make.

  “Good morning, your ladyship,” she said. She set the tray on my night table. “Mrs. James is helping me with my seamstress skills,” she announced. “I should have your dresses returned this afternoon.”

  “That’s fine,” I replied. My sharp tone expressed the day before needed an apology as well. “I am sorry for snapping at you, too,” I said. “My day yesterday was not the most pleasant.”

  “Perhaps it will be better today,” she said, looking innocent.

  I watched her quietly as she went about her duties getting my clothes ready and became curious about her past.

  “How long have you worked at Blythe Court?”

  “Three years,” she answered. “Mrs. James hired me as a chambermaid. When you came for the weekend house party, she asked me to be your lady’s maid because we were short on staff. It was exciting to be given the opportunity for advancement.”

  “Well, I am glad you did,” I lied. “You did such a splendid job that I insisted you remain.” Of course, now I was sorry for having done so.

  “It’s very kind of you and J—.”

  Melanie swiftly halted her speech about to express her familiarity with my husband’s name.

  “And his lordship,” she nervously corrected, “to give me this opportunity.”

  My eyes narrowed at her when she turned her head away from me, no doubt afraid I caught the J-sound on the tip of her tongue. I could not help but wonder why she wanted to be near me. Surely she was tired of waiting upon my every whim. Did John think by putting her right under my nose I would not suspect they were lovers? How could she serve me each day knowing that I married the man she adored? Her reasoning baffled me.

  My countenance fell into a sullen pout. I wanted to dismiss her from my employment. It would be far better for me if he set her up in some fancy townhome. Henceforth he could go to her on the sly for his sexual trysts, rather than doing so in broad daylight in front of the entire staff. I could not help but wonder how many knew of their shameful affair.

  Nevertheless, I could not—not yet anyway. I needed her close so that I could discover why John loved her and what hold she kept upon him that I did not possess. Were they more passionate together in bed? Did she provide him sexual pleasure in areas I knew nothing about? Perhaps he adored her because of her sweet and unpretentious disposition. Wasn’t my personality pleasant enough to gain his affection? Oh, God, I wanted to hate her because she possessed John’s heart when it should be mine. Anxiousness sucked the breath out of my lungs, and I felt as if I were suffocating.

  “Shall I have the chambermaid bring water up for a bath this morning, my lady?”

  “Yes, please do,” I said. After taking my last sip of tea, I slipped out of bed and glanced at my adjoining door to John’s room. I never entered his bedchamber in the morning and wondered if his valet were tending to him at the same moment. Unfortunately, the gentleman who served his needs was older and unattractive. My vindictive state of mind regretted the fact he was not young and virile. I could have an affair with him while my husband enjoyed my lady’s maid. I knew I could never do such a thing, but the malicious thought pleased me. In the meantime, my thoughts began to formulate another avenue for spiteful amusement.

  The Dinner Party

  We reviewed the guest list for our first dinner party as a married couple. Afterward, I met with the cook to discuss the menu. Mr. Rhodes and Mrs. James assured me the staff would do a superb job for my first gathering as a hostess.

  When the evening arrived, the dining room glowed with silver candelabras, shiny English bone china, and polished cutlery. My new position as head of the household brought a deep sense of accomplishment in my life. It filled the gaping hole in my heart giving me purpose.

  John never spoke of his like or dislike of his father’s gift of Blythe Court upon our marriage. Perhaps the estate had been far too familiar for him to express any partiality toward the grand house. Nevertheless, the structures and impressive grounds said much about our status in society. Little did others know, or so I hoped, that it held a dark secret of immorality behind its doors.

  The guests for the evening also consisted of Charlene, who arrived with her new intended fiancé, Robert Wellington, approved by her parents. She recently traveled from London to Kenwood Hall, not far from Blythe Court, for a holiday. Evidently, she had decided not to run away with the penniless love of her life, Mr. Brighton.

  I found it odd, frankly, thinking she would be better off to marry for affection. Maybe poor men were not as adulterous as the wealthy aristocracy. My mind drifted back to John’s comment about their appalling affair. His hypocritical statement, I surmised, had been made for my benefit. Who would have suspected a scandal already brewed at Blythe Court? I couldn’t help shake the notion Charlene might be privy to my husband’s choice of a lover and remained sympathetic toward him.

  John also invited other acquaintances who I only met briefly in the reception line at our wedding. Percy Rochester, an unattached aristocratic bachelor, arrived without a lady to accompany him to dinner. He was an acquaintance of John’s from boarding school during their younger years, whose friendship had continued into adulthood. His gregarious attitude brought a breath of fresh air into my dismal home. I found myself immediately drawn to his charisma. As far as the other couples, they were individuals John knew through his family, most of whom I thought dull. My husband did not appear particularly close to any of them.

  When dinner began, Percy sat next to me. We swiftly struck up conversations that were entertaining. He possessed a knack for making me laugh, which apparently John did not find amusing.

  “John, married life seems to be agreeable to you,” Percy said, finally turning his attention to my husband. “You are a lucky man to have such a beautiful and stimulating woman for a wife. Well, done!”

  He flashed me a flirty wink, and I responded with a broad smile. “I don’t think he knows how lucky he really is,” I added.

  “Oh, I do,” John interjected, trying to save face. “She is indeed an exceptional lady.” He flashed me an intimidating gaze.

  “You better be good to her, or I shall sweep in like a hawk and steal her away.”

  The rascal peeked at my bosom indicating his appreciation for my endowed state. At last, a man who flattered me and gave me an ounce of attention. My starved ego eagerly drank of every indecent glimpse. When I glanced at John, his countenance radiated his acute displeasure. I had hoped the evening would afford me such a situation, so I grabbed the opportunity and continued to tease.

  After dinner, we all departed to the large sitting room for amusement. Percy pulled me away for a game of cards while the others acted their guessing game of charades. John occasionally glanced in my direction, watching me like a hawk.

  “So, tell me, Ann, is he treating you well?”

  His question startled me, but I gave a straightforward answer. “The man is a mystery to me, but yes, he treats me kindly.”

  “Kindly. Oh, how boring,” Percy replied. “If you were my wife, there would be many feisty encounters between us, I assure you.”

  “You flatter me,” I said, batting my eyelashes in return. “Lower your voice or people will think you are proposing indecent engagements betw
een us.”

  “Well, if you get tired of him,” he said, reaching over and touching my hand, “I can be extremely discreet.”

  Ah, yes, here was that word again. It was perfectly acceptable to have affairs if everything played out discreetly.

  “I do not think John would be too happy should he find out,” I replied. “Besides, I thought there was a double standard when it came to infidelity in marriage. It is acceptable for men but inexcusable for women to partake of the forbidden fruit.”

  “Oh, I know plenty of married ladies who like fruit,” he replied in a sultry voice, making me blush.

  “I’m sure you do, Percy,” I said with a sly grin. My next words were interrupted by the arrival of John at our side.

  He bowed down and whispered his displeasure in my ear. “Don’t you think you are ignoring the other guests?”

  “Not really,” I answered in a low voice. “I am quite entertained, but if you insist we play a game of charades together, I am sure Percy and I can oblige.”

  “Charades?” Percy replied enthusiastically. “Yes, let’s play.” He rose to his feet, offered me his hand, and I gladly took it since my husband had not the sense to offer his. I flashed John a sardonic smile as we passed by, witnessing his irritation. Good, I thought. An ounce of jealousy is just what you need.

  * * * *

  My evening turned out to be an educational and enjoyable experience. Percy provided much-needed laughter in my life while my husband displayed a welcome hint of jealousy. Whether his emotion came from an ounce of affection for me or sheer irritation, I had yet to discover. Perhaps I wounded his self-worth, acting as if I might consider someone else more attractive and interesting. Nevertheless, as we said goodbye to our guests and made our way to our bedchambers, our time together burst into a heated exchanged.

  “I found your behavior this evening with Percy inappropriate,” he grumbled in a throaty voice.

  “Inappropriate?” I innocently responded. “In what way?” We stood outside of my bedchamber glaring at one another.