Anger replaced sorrow and I picked up both sheets of paper before shoving them into a drawer. It was not an issue, yet. Until the papers got to Linshire, I needn’t do anything about it.
Even then, there was a small chance no one would make the connection that I was related to Sophie Hurst. The article did not ever actually mention her by name—it merely alluded to her.
I rang the bell to call for Tilly so I could dress for bed. I was suddenly exhausted.
Chapter 17
Harrison searched me out in the back garden to inform me that I had callers. I had spent the duration of the morning walking the rows of roses and hedges, unable to sit still for longer than a moment, and recommitting to replacing the dancing couple statue in the garden. The night before was filled with sporadic, fitful sleep. I had to come up with a plan regarding how I might handle any rumors that reached me in Linshire. Clearly, given my panic when Daniel mentioned the rumor of the ball, I was not prepared to handle any large scandals.
I followed Harrison inside and was slightly relieved to find Mrs. Heybourne seated on the sofa beside her mother. Mrs. Overton occupied a wingback chair opposite them, and I seated myself in the chair beside hers.
Mrs. Heybourne smiled at me as I sat, her face devoid of any sourness. I was glad she had not seemed to hold a grudge over my previous relationship with her husband. Particularly as one sided as it had been.
“I was just mentioning to my mother and Mrs. Overton,” she said, “that I had such a splendid time dancing after our dinner party. I was very gratified so many of our guests were willing to do so.”
“I believe dancing is widely accepted as one of the primest forms of entertainment.” I laughed. “You’d be hard pressed to find a group of young people who are opposed to spending their evening dancing.”
“Young people, yes,” Mrs. Bennington said. “And those who are not so young anymore.”
My cheeks grew warm and I swallowed. Was she referring to me? I knew I was not fresh from the schoolroom anymore, but I’d like to think I was still agile enough to dance with enthusiasm.
“I love to dance,” Mrs. Overton said. “I cannot complete those fast-paced steps the younger set is doing these days, but I could perform a Scottish reel with the best of them just a few years ago.”
Mrs. Bennington nodded, all condescension. “I am sure.”
“Miss Hurst,” Mrs. Heybourne cut in, her wide eyes betraying enthusiasm. “Is it true you plan to hold a ball?”
Mrs. Bennington’s face pinched uncomfortably. I trained my smile on her daughter. I was so unaccountably grateful they did not bring a newspaper with them to parade my shame that I would gladly throw a hundred balls.
“I am still vastly unfamiliar with the customs of Linshire and most of the people about. I could use help from a local society woman in creating a guest list.”
Mrs. Heybourne looked near to bursting. “I should love to help you. When may we begin?”
I glanced to Mrs. Overton, a small smile on her lips. She nodded once and I said, “Now?”
Mrs. Heybourne agreed and we moved to the table at the other side of the room to begin planning. I had chosen the correct person from which to ask for assistance. As soon as I gave her free rein she immediately flew away with her ideas. I would not have to do much in preparation if Mrs. Heybourne had her way, for she had a very clear idea of how a ball should be conducted at Corden Hall.
As our conversation lengthened, I found myself growing excited over the prospect of the ball as well. Mrs. Bennington fetched her daughter before we completed our plans entirely and we made a date to get together the following afternoon to complete the lists for decor and menu items and create a guest list.
Once the women left, I sat beside Mrs. Overton again.
“I appreciate your assistance.” I stretched my arms and glanced at the woman. “I do not believe we would have achieved half as much without the uninterrupted time.”
“It was the least I could do. Mrs. Bennington likes to speak; I merely needed to listen.”
I had the sense that Mrs. Overton spent a great deal of her time merely listening.
“Would you like to walk to the ballroom with me?”
She stood. “I was considering taking my nap early.”
“Did you not sleep well last night?” I asked. “Is your bed uncomfortable?”
“No, no, it is nothing like that. I got caught up chatting with Daniel last evening and we did not make it to bed until late.”
So he had gone back downstairs to Mrs. Overton after checking on me. Was she aware he had made that particular errand?
We parted ways at the base of the stairs and I walked down the hallway and through the doors to the left of the foyer.
Light poured in through the tall, rectangular windows on the opposite wall and lit the polished floor. A raised platform sat at one end of the room for the instruments. I could almost hear the music already, and see my country neighbors in their finest, grouping into corners and lining up to dance. I began to sway to the music in my head, my imagination importing the people from my youthful first Season, when I had danced and celebrated with little care in the world.
Clipping heels on the wooden floorboards alerted me to his presence, and I turned to see Daniel step through the large double doors into the ballroom. His gaze was at once magnetizing and fearsome and I swallowed before offering him a smile.
He stepped further into the room before pausing just out of reach. “Are you feeling better today?”
I nodded.
“I believe the light of day can do much to dispel apprehension,” he said. “Many things which seem bleak in the darkness can be revealed as less formidable with a little light.”
“This is no ghost hiding beneath my bed,” I said, trying to swallow my annoyance. “I was not overreacting last night. My troubles are real, and it would cause me great distress if they became widely known.”
Daniel was plainly surprised by my admission.
I panicked, for I had said too much. I moved to pass him and make an escape.
“Wait,” he said. The plea in his voice compelled me far more easily than a command ever would.
I turned expectantly.
He looked stricken. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I merely wished to offer my support. I clearly am unaware of the full extent of your dilemma.”
A point which filled me with the utmost gratitude.
He stepped forward, his eyes imploring me. “You may trust me, Freya.”
I felt suspended in time. I yearned to open my mouth and pour my troubles upon him. Yet I had spent years erecting a sturdy, protective wall around myself and it was not about to fall now. I learned the difficult way many years earlier that loving someone did not keep them from hurting me. And regardless, while I cared for Daniel, I did not love him.
“I must go,” I said, my voice soft. “Tilly is meeting me in the guest rooms today to sort the linens.” I walked from the room, my slippers silently crossing the floor and carrying me away from Daniel. I wished to turn back and see his expression, to try and read on his face how he felt, but I did not.
Instead, I fled to the privacy of my room and the comfort of my animals. Coco may have partially shifted her allegiance to Daniel, but she would always love me more.
Chapter 18
The weeks passed quickly after the initial planning meeting for the ball. Mrs. Heybourne began visiting more frequently under the guise of writing invitations and perfecting the menu. Her mother accompanied her a few times, but soon she began to arrive alone, which allowed her to stay for longer visits. We spent time here and there preparing for the festivities, but often Mrs. Heybourne would wish, suddenly, for a walk in the gardens or a tour of the house. We went for rides along the estate and lounged in the morning room, letting the cats play with my yarn.
The two guest rooms on the far end of the hall were completed. Daniel reminded me that we’d yet to move on to the next room and I found more and more reas
ons to put him off. I could not bring myself to spend such a significant amount of solitary time with the man choosing wallpaper or rearranging furniture. The remainder of the rooms on the guest floor, as well as a few on my own, were not yet fit for company. But as it stood, I wasn’t expecting company either.
“I am increasingly glad you have come to inhabit Corden Hall,” Mrs. Heybourne said as we took tea in the morning room, Coco curled up at my feet in a pool of warm light. “Mother warned me to stay away, but she does not know you as I do. Her fears are often unfounded as it is.” She lifted a shoulder to accompany her remark before sipping from her cup.
My hand remained suspended, my tea hovering before my lips. I took a sip and placed the cup in my lap. Mrs. Heybourne was sweet, but often tactless as well. Which was why I took care to watch what I revealed to her in the course of our friendship.
“This ball is already the talk of Linshire. Have you noticed the women at church? There’s hardly been talk of anything else.”
I relaxed, as I often did, at the happy idea that the ball I was throwing to introduce myself to the county was serving another duty by distracting them as well.
“Even Mr. Bryce has been given a clear pass for the last few weeks.”
I perked up. Mrs. Heybourne often talked without need for answers or opinions. I was grateful Mrs. Overton had retired to her room for her nap and left us to speak freely. Mrs. Heybourne did not have the greatest decorum, but she did at least attempt to rein herself in when we were not alone.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She turned innocent eyes on me. “You mean you do not know? Mr. Bryce is the largest piece of gossip in Linshire. He has been since he first arrived at Corden Hall.”
“He has been nothing but a gentleman.”
Her hand came up to slap her heart. “I never implied otherwise!” She leaned forward. “Mr. Bryce is a gentleman.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “I was aware of that.” It was common for stewards to be gentlemen of fallen means; Daniel was no different.
“No, not just a gentleman, Miss Hurst. It is said that he used to run in high circles. He has come to Linshire because he is running away from something, and no one can quite figure out what that is.”
This story sounded uncomfortably familiar; it sounded like my own.
She lowered her voice further. “I heard it from my lady’s maid that he took advantage of your absence when he first arrived, demanding respect from the servants as though he owned the house. He required an office on the main floor, dinners in the dining room, and demanded he be waited on by the lower servants. He even began a horse breeding business from your stables.”
Her eyes grew wider with each revelation and I didn’t have the gumption to confirm her accusations. It was all true.
But of course it was all true. Daniel was the steward—the highest ranking member of the paid household.
“If that is indeed the case, it is within his right as steward to require all of those things,” I defended.
“Perhaps.” She leaned back on the sofa. “But the way I heard it, he didn’t demand them as the steward, he was pretending that Corden Hall was his.”
Mrs. Heybourne stood. “I must be getting home. Mother has been complaining about my frequent absences of late.” She grinned, unrepentant. “I cannot wait for the ball tomorrow. I will arrive early as we discussed to stand beside you and welcome the guests.”
I stood as well to walk her to the door. “Thank you for your help.”
“It has been my pleasure.”
I saw Mrs. Heybourne out before returning and slumping on the sofa. Cleo climbed on my lap and stretched, wiping her tail in front of my nose.
“Put that down,” I scolded.
“She has no sense of personal space,” Mrs. Overton said, joining me on the sofa. She rang for a servant and requested her special blend of tea. “Has Mrs. Heybourne gone home?”
Sighing, I nodded. “You’ve only just missed her. I propose we take an early night and rest up for tomorrow’s festivities. Although, I vow I will not get much sleep.”
“Are you nervous, dear?” Mrs. Overton asked, her wrinkled face pulling into concern as she tilted her head.
“Yes. I cannot help it.”
“I will be by your side, and you have Daniel as well.”
I felt the sudden desire to inquire on his character, but something deep within me warned me not to. I opened my mouth to ask but diverted at the last moment. “I am grateful to have you both, and Mrs. Heybourne as well.”
“You are fortunate, you know,” she said cryptically. “Daniel has really grown into himself since taking on the role of steward. He has found a contentment here that previously evaded him.”
Harrison knocked on the door. “You’ve got a caller, Miss Hurst.”
“Who is it?”
“Miss Chappelle,” he replied.
I stood, holding onto Cleo. “I will receive her in the drawing room.” I turned to my companion. “You may remain here if you’d like.”
“I will not leave you alone, dear.”
She followed me from the morning room and I was glad she could not see the sheen in my eyes. I blinked rapidly until it disappeared and emotion had fully removed itself from my face.
Miss Chappelle stepped into the room moments after we were seated. The skirt of her scarlet riding habit was thrown over her arm, her hat placed at a jaunty angle on her head. Her dark eyes flitted around the room before resting on me, her lips pulling into a feline smile. I gripped Cleo closer, running my fingers down her back in a calming, rhythmic motion.
I had not missed the momentary disappointment that crossed her features when we entered the room. She was clearly hoping to see Daniel.
“I am eagerly looking forward to your ball, Miss Hurst. It is promising to be the event of the Season.”
“I was unaware that Linshire had a Season,” I said. One of the maids brought tea and set the service before me. One pot of tea was smaller and set off to the side. I assumed that belonged to Mrs. Overton’s special blend and began pouring cups.
“Not in the official way that London does, of course. There are not many people in this county who leave for London during the Season, however, so we create our own social calendar.”
“That is much like it is where I hail from,” Mrs. Overton announced, surprising me. She did not often speak up in company. I’d never discouraged her, of course. She was simply quiet.
“And where is that?” Miss Chappelle asked.
“North of London. A small hamlet I am sure you’ve never heard of.” Mrs. Overton smiled, then sipped her tea. She seemed to relax instantly. That was all she was going to say about the matter.
Miss Chappelle tilted her head, inquiring, “How long have you known Mr. Bryce?”
The question caught both of us off guard. Mrs. Overton recovered promptly. “Most of his life.”
I watched her continue to drink her tea. I had assumed as much, but now it was confirmed, though it did not do much to explain how she knew him. Was she an old governess? A neighbor? Surely she was not a relation or they would share a surname. Unless, of course, she came from his mother’s side.
“Do you know him well?” Mrs. Overton asked suddenly, surprising me. She had a mask of pleasant inquiry on her face. I had no idea how she truly felt.
Miss Chappelle’s smile became tight. “I would like to think he holds a certain preference—”
“Good afternoon,” Daniel said, coming into the room. His smile was bland and he bowed before taking an open seat across from the sofa. “I simply cannot concentrate on business with such a beautiful sun shining through the window.”
“Precisely what drew me to your door, Mr. Bryce,” Miss Chappelle said, her voice suddenly silky and low.
Daniel’s eyes lit up and I felt a rock drop into my stomach. “Did you ride over on Shadow?” he asked, unable to hide his enthusiasm.
Miss Chappelle’s smile grew. “Of course. I find afte
r I tasted her superiority, it is impossible to reduce myself to anything lesser.” Her gaze flitted to me and I knew at once she was referring to me.
“I fancy a ride myself. Perhaps I might accompany you?” he asked.
She stood. “I would love that.”
Daniel looked to Mrs. Overton, excitement evident in his mannerisms. His face twitched when it landed on me and he hastily added, “Would you like to accompany us, Miss Hurst?”
I was an afterthought. In the face of riding with Miss Chappelle, I had been completely forgotten. “I would prefer to stay indoors,” I said tightly.
Daniel seemed to sense something was not quite right, but a quick nudge from Miss Chappelle was all he needed to say farewell and follow her from the room, the sly minx. I could only hope the groom they used as chaperone would fulfill his responsibilities with expert care.
“It is such a lovely day,” Mrs. Overton said when we heard the door close behind them.
“I am nearly finished knitting the booties,” I said, standing. “I am going to fetch my basket and will return shortly.”
I walked from the drawing room, shaking out my arms once I was removed from my companion’s sight. I needed to dispel the tension I felt, and furiously knitting away at little booties to match the blanket for Rosalynn’s baby was as good a way as any.
Chapter 19
The ballroom floor was freshly waxed and the chandelier lowered, polished, and filled with new candles. The musicians had arrived and were setting up their instruments, and the servants were preparing the drawing room with tables for refreshments.
I walked through the rooms on the main floor one last time ensuring that everything was as it needed to be. The retiring rooms were arranged and Harrison was already stationed at the front door to receive guests. I stood in the hallway out of the way of the servants and leaned against the wall.
Love For The Spinster (Women 0f Worth Book 2) Page 14