I did not recall that particular reason, but he could have slipped it in amongst the other business items we’d discussed.
“But I feel inclined to remind you that we are veering dangerously close to discussing business.”
I tried to swallow my amusement. This man was certainly interesting. His rule to avoid mixing business with his meals was strange, but I would do my best to respect it.
Having both spent some time in London, we discussed our favorite sights and museums. He waxed long on the superior qualities of country living, and I agreed that a slower pace had much to be desired.
We withdrew to the drawing room following dinner and Mr. Bryce asked if I played any musical instruments.
“I can play the pianoforte reasonably well.”
“Would you care to play for me?”
I found the pianoforte in good condition. The music selection was a tad outdated, but it would do well enough. I played for the better part of an hour, losing myself a few times in the music. I was no master by any means—I did not come close to Rosalynn’s skill in music—but I was competent for an evening of simple entertainment.
“That was lovely,” Mr. Bryce said when I stepped away from the instrument. I delivered a playful curtsey and took my seat across from him on a plush violet armchair.
“Thank you, Mr. Bryce.”
I smiled at him, comfortable and secure. His green eyes were trained on me and though a few yards of space and a luxurious carpet separated us, I felt a connection with this man. He was—dare I hope—the brother figure I had never had. He was kind and reliable. Through our correspondence, we had developed a level of trust and companionship I had grown to appreciate.
I only hoped he felt the same way. The sporadic feelings of warmth and increased heart rate were behind me. I could not control my natural reactions, but I could steer them in the proper course. Mr. Bryce was like a brother. And as such he would stay.
“I have been thinking,” he said, pulling me from my musings. “Perhaps you would be comfortable calling me Daniel? I am afraid to admit that I do not think of you as Miss Hurst.”
Did my face show the surprise I felt? This was a bold request, to say the least. “I would like that. I only wonder if it would send the wrong message.”
“To whom?”
“Neighbors, the staff.”
He seemed to consider my words. “I do agree it could convey the wrong message. Perhaps we could be more formal when in company.”
If we only used given names in private, then there was little harm in it. I had to agree with the man; we’d built such a connection through our letters that we felt close to family already. It was unorthodox, perhaps, but so was every other aspect of my life at present. “We shall be working together quite closely. Perhaps that would be a convenient course of action.”
Daniel’s answering grin was warm. I tried to laugh off the discomfort it caused within me. “For now, however, I shall retire for the evening.”
We stood in unison and he bowed. “Goodnight, Freya.”
I reached the door, glancing over my shoulder. “Goodnight, Daniel.”
* * *
Daniel had been correct in his assumption that the women of Linshire would soon flock to me. I had caller after caller all morning, and at the rate they were arriving, I was going to be stuck in the drawing room for the remainder of the day.
I had to skip our morning meeting due to the arrival of the vicar’s wife and her three children. They were followed by Mrs. Hathaway and her daughters, Laura and Jane, whom I felt I would never, ever find any sort of connection with. They were young, sixteen and seventeen if I had to guess, and the frilliest, most uninspiring creatures I had met in quite some time. They inundated me with questions about London and it was all I could do to try and slip a word in during their rapid inquisition. Mrs. Hathaway seemed content to sit back and watch her insipid children with a self-contented smile on her round face.
I would never understand the pride of some mothers. They could not see the faults in their own children regardless of how glaringly obvious they were to the rest of us.
The Hathaways’ exit was a short-lived relief as they were replaced with two elderly sisters, the Misses Blake. They were kind, but slow on the uptake, and stayed significantly past thirty minutes. I snuck into the hallway after their departure and jumped into a dark room on the side of the hall when I heard Harrison opening the front door to more visitors. Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes, straining to hear Harrison lead the guests into the drawing room. I tried to determine who they might be. The brainless variation, or otherwise.
“Why are we hiding?”
I jumped, my hand coming over my heart to slow its rapid beating. “Daniel?” I asked, unsure of who else the voice would belong to. Very little light seeped through the doorway, making the room quite dark.
“Did you not see me come in?” he asked.
I shook my head, then realized he probably could not see. The thick drapes were pulled tight, shrouding us in shadows. “No, I didn’t.”
“I snuck in right after you. Now tell me what is going on.”
“There are more visitors.”
I felt the deep rumble of his chuckle and wanted to swat him. But judging from his voice he was a few paces out of reach.
He said, “Shall I tell them you are indisposed?”
“Heavens, no. Whatever would they think that means? I will return to the drawing room shortly. I only needed a moment to catch my breath.”
“And have you caught it?”
I smiled in the darkness. “Just about.”
“I will go and stall them. Take all the time you need.”
“But shouldn’t you be on your way to Stoneford to see your horse?” Silence filled the room. “Daniel?”
He was gone. I let out a long breath. I would only take another minute and then I would relieve him of any duty. I had meant what I said at dinner the night before. I was able to handle myself, and I did not need his help. Socially, at least. In every other respect, I was certain Corden Hall would simply be lost without him.
Only, being social was not exactly my favorite pastime. Visitors were fine, but I always ended up sitting quietly with nothing to say and the distinct feeling of tense discomfort taking over my person. It was a very physical reaction and I did not enjoy it in the least.
It was the large groups which really got under my skin.
I took a few deep breaths and released them slowly before I let myself back into the hall. I approached the drawing room and found Daniel sitting on the plush armchair, one ankle crossed over the other knee, his arm lazily draped over the side.
The women seated across from him on the sofa were undoubtedly related, with identical curly brown hair and steep, sloping noses. The older of the two noticed me the moment I walked through the door, her eyes raking me over in judgement before turning her attention to Daniel.
He stood as I approached, waiting to sit again until I had taken my seat in the armchair beside his.
“Allow me to introduce Miss Hurst,” he said. “Miss Hurst, this is Mrs. Bennington and her daughter, Mrs. Heybourne.”
“A pleasure,” I said, dipping my head toward each of them. The younger of the two smiled at me politely before delving back into her story. Her mother, I could plainly see, did not like me at all.
I waited for Mrs. Heybourne to complete her tale before saying, “How long have you been in the area?”
“My whole life,” Mrs. Heybourne said, her smile revealing a set of deep dimples. She was pretty, but seemed rather artless. Her mother, however, had not taken her cat eyes off me since I opened my mouth.
“She is your neighbor,” Daniel offered. “Just south of us at Fairlinn Court.”
“Lovely.” I tried to smile around the fire burning me from Mrs. Bennington’s glare.
“We shall have you over for dinner!” Mrs. Heybourne exclaimed. “I should like it above all things. Most of the women in the area are
n’t very—”
“Matilda,” Mrs. Bennington snapped, effectively silencing her daughter.
Mrs. Heybourne delicately cleared her throat, her cheeks taking on a pink tinge.
“I was riding just past your estate a few weeks back,” Daniel cut in, “and saw the most extraordinary animal running down the lane. Have you acquired a new pet?”
“Oh yes, my dear Mr. Heybourne does love to indulge me. The dog is not suitable for hunting, so he belongs to me. He is called Tiny, which is an ever so clever name, for you must have seen how large he is.”
“Indeed. And quite hairy.”
Mrs. Heybourne grinned. “It is fun for Thomas to toss sticks and have Tiny retrieve them. He has been easy to train for all of his largeness.”
“Where did you acquire him?”
She lifted her dainty shoulders. “I haven’t the faintest. Mr. Heybourne knew I’d simply adore him and he brought him home for me and Thomas. Thomas did try to ride him once, but Tiny was not pleased.”
I had to assume that Thomas was a child. Most likely one who belonged to Fairlinn Court.
“You must have a very kind husband,” I said, trying to be sociable. I was tense already with Mrs. Bennington’s unrelenting dislike, but maintained hope their visit was surely coming to a close. Whatever could I possibly have done to earn such blatant disregard?
A knock at the door sounded and Harrison stepped inside before announcing another visitor. “Miss Chappelle.”
A dark-haired woman sashayed into the room, curtseying before taking the chair that I gestured for her to use.
“Miss Chappelle,” Daniel said, standing. “Allow me to introduce Miss Hurst.”
Miss Chappelle smiled, her red lips curving without humor. Her slanted eyes and black hair gave her the exotic look that indicated recent French ancestry.
“Such a pleasure,” she said, her accent thick. Well then, not recent ancestry. The woman herself was French.
“I didn’t realize you had company, Mr. Bryce.”
I turned to him sharply. I could not help my reaction. His gaze sat on the newcomer unwaveringly and he spoke at ease. “This home belongs to Miss Hurst. She has recently come to reside in it.”
“Alone?” Miss Chappelle inquired, her dark eyebrow raised in question.
Mrs. Bennington gave an audible gasp. Mrs. Heybourne leaned back in her chair slightly, warily looking between Daniel and me.
“I moved into the stables the moment she arrived,” Daniel said tightly. I could almost hear him finish the sentence in my mind, not that it is any of your business.
I was the mistress of Corden Hall and he was my steward. There was nothing untoward about our arrangement. And regardless, I quit heeding convention the moment my father’s other family was brought to light and I was discovered to be illegitimate.
This seemed enough for Mrs. Heybourne, her easy demeanor slipping back into place. Her mother, of course, reeked of distrust.
Not only did I feel the distinct need to be on my guard, but I could clearly see she did not trust me, either.
“What brings you to Corden Hall?” Mrs. Heybourne asked Miss Chappelle.
The French woman shot Daniel a saucy smile before answering. “I have found much to appeal to me at Corden Hall.” She took a breath and continued. “The pleasure gardens to the back of the house are most diverting.”
Mrs. Heybourne observed me closely. “Do you plan on remaining in Linshire permanently?”
“That shall depend,” I answered honestly. “I would like to learn the details of running the estate. When that is completed, then I suppose it will depend on how I feel. I find myself relieved to be away from London at present, but I’m sure in time I shall wish to be back there.”
“Why should you be relieved to be out of London?” Miss Chappelle asked, her voice loaded with innuendo.
I smiled at her, hoping to convey that I had nothing to hide. “The same things that most people cite when they are glad to be free of city bounds: cleaner air, less people, more flowers.”
“An astute summary,” Daniel said approvingly. His posture, I noticed, had not relaxed since Miss Chappelle’s arrival; he obviously felt a degree of discomfort. Was it from Mrs. Bennington’s judgmental comments, Miss Chappelle’s presence, or a culmination of all of the women in the room together?
I had put up with a lot this day and it was only just past noon. I was in dire need of some fresh air. And I knew just where I’d like to go.
“We should be getting on,” Mrs. Bennington remarked, bringing her long, thin legs to a stand. Her daughter obediently followed suit.
Mrs. Heybourne turned to Miss Chappelle. “I imagine Miss Hurst has been overrun with visitors today.”
A battle of wills took place as Mrs. Heybourne and Miss Chappelle faced off. The French woman acquiesced, rising with dignified grace. She was a woman of impeccable breeding if her poise and discretion were any indication.
Goodbyes and pleasant farewells were exchanged. Mrs. Bennington halted near the door and turned. “We would love to have you to dinner soon, Miss Hurst. I eagerly await an introduction to your companion.” She looked pointedly at Daniel before shifting her gaze to me. “You do have a companion, I assume.”
“Of course she does,” he answered smoothly. “Name the date. We would be happy to bring her to dine.”
“Very good. I will consult my son-in-law and send a note forthwith.”
I watched the gaggle of women exit the room with unease. I had met a variety of the ladies of Linshire over the course of the morning. While I had made some judgements myself according to their intelligence or wit, I had yet to find anyone whom I deemed a threat. But that was precisely how I categorized Mrs. Bennington and Miss Chappelle.
The daughter, Mrs. Heybourne, on the other hand, seemed perfectly friendly.
We waited in silence as Harrison showed them out, listening for the final thunk of the closing door and the click of Harrison’s retreating steps.
We spoke at the same time.
“Care to explain?”
“I’m sorry—” he began.
I faced him. “You first.”
“I apologize,” he said. “I should not have let her goad me so. I cannot imagine how you are able to sit through visit after visit.”
I raised my eyebrow. He could not change the conversation so easily.
He sighed, running a hand over his face. “It was not honest, perhaps. But I believe I have just saved your reputation.”
Irrational fury ripped through me. I did not need saving. Little did he know, I did not have a reputation worth saving. “I am a confirmed spinster, fully fixed on the shelf. While I have acted as a companion in the past, I have never required, nor do I currently require, the consequence given by having a chaperone. I am a grown woman, Mr. Bryce, and acting as my steward does not give you the right to protect me, as you see it.”
His eyes glittered in suppressed irritation. “While I might not agree that you are a confirmed spinster, I do apologize for overstepping my bounds. You need not fear a repeat performance. I shall be in the study if you have need of me.” With a curt nod, he took himself off and I was instantly filled with regret.
I stood behind my words, but perhaps I could have delivered them with less ire.
Sinking onto the armchair behind me, I dropped my head into my hands. Navigating Linshire as the female owner of a large estate was not off to the greatest of beginnings. I needed advice, of that I was certain. Though I had just effectively burned the one bridge I had.
Coming to a stand, I tucked an errant lock of hair behind my ear and made a decision. It was time I did something about the running of this house.
Chapter 9
I found Mrs. Lewis with a chambermaid in the hallway, their arms full of linens.
“We are still working on a room for your cats,” she said immediately. “If you can only give us a bit more time.”
I flapped my hand to put away the notion. “They are fine t
o stay with me. They are settled now, and I doubt they would move to another room if I tried.” I thought of Jasper in Aunt Georgina’s home. Cats, in my experience, were territorial little creatures. And the three I brought with me to Corden Hall had all staked their claim. On my bed.
Mrs. Lewis stood rooted to the spot, blinking at me expectantly. She could at least try to make this smoother for me, could she not?
“I merely wished for a minute of your time. I would like to go over household procedures with you. And there are quite a few rooms I have found that need some sprucing up.”
“I am quite busy at present,” she said, eyeing the bundle of linens in her arms. The silence stretched between us until she finally continued. “But I could squeeze in a few minutes to explain the running of the house later this afternoon. Say three hours from now?”
“That will do,” I said, dismissing Mrs. Lewis and the dark-haired chambermaid. I smiled at the girl and she looked uncomfortable, before bobbing a curtsey and scurrying after Mrs. Lewis.
I sighed. Someday I would have the authority and respect I deserved from my staff.
* * *
The morning parlor boasted French doors that opened onto a terrace built of the same red sandstone as the house, with marble stairs leading down to the pleasure gardens. My feet took me to the path on the left of their own accord and I found myself within the sanctuary of hedges minutes later. Sinking onto the bench, I closed my eyes and breathed in a deep, even rhythm.
I could see the wisdom of Daniel’s choice, but I did not support it. Not only had he lied, but he put me into the uncomfortable position of lying as well. Whether I found a companion at once to step in and add propriety to the household or not, I would be an accomplice to his deceit.
Love For The Spinster (Women 0f Worth Book 2) Page 7