A Game of Chess With the Marquess

by Patricia Haverton

She sighed. “You see too much.”

  “I spend my days with horses,” he said. “It has made me perceptive. Come into the stable.”

  She followed him in and made the rounds, moving from horse to horse, stroking their long noses, offering up handfuls of oats. “Hello, Chester,” she said, nuzzling her forehead against the nose of her favorite horse. “You’re looking beautiful as ever.”

  “You may well call him so,” Jimmy said darkly. “He nearly kicked me this morning when I was cleaning his pen.”

  “Chester! You didn’t. You bad boy.” She shook her finger at him and turned to Jimmy. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “Only my pride,” he said. “He knocked me down into the hay. Here.” He fished in the pocket of his apron and pulled out a carrot and a piece of bread. “Eat these.”

  “Jimmy, I can’t take your food.”

  “I’ve eaten already. The bread is left over from my breakfast, and the carrot is meant to be for Chester. Eat.”

  “I oughtn’t.”

  “We can’t have you swooning from hunger in the parlor in front of the Duchess, can we?” He pressed the food into her hands. “Although perhaps that would awaken her to the fact that you need to be fed from time to time.”

  “She never tries to stop me from eating,” Lenora said. “She doesn’t notice that I haven’t had anything, that’s all.”

  “Well, she should notice,” Jimmy said. “If I had maids and servants, my first act every morning would be to serve them a banquet.”

  Lenora laughed. “A banquet! For servants!”

  “And why not? Don’t we enjoy fine things as much as anyone else? Haven’t we the right to full stomachs?”

  She shook her head. “Your dreams would better befit a prince than a stable boy, Jimmy.”

  “And you? What do you dream of?”

  “I? Nothing. A ride on Chester, perhaps.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Jimmy said. “There must be something you want. Something you wish for. You can tell me, I won’t laugh.”

  “Of course not,” Lenora said. “You would never laugh at me, Jimmy. I know that,” she sighed. “But dreams are a far cry from reality.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?”

  “Meaning I don’t want to forget who I am. I don’t want to forget my station and my duties and allow myself to dwell in the realm of fantasy.” She finished her piece of bread and brushed the crumbs from her dress. “Thank you very much for the breakfast, Jimmy, but I must return to the manor before I’m missed.”

  “I suppose so,” Jimmy agreed. “If you can get away this afternoon, perhaps I can saddle up Chester for you.”

  Lenora shook her head sadly. “You know we aren’t allowed.” Chester belonged to Lady Katherine. Lenora knew her Lady would have a fit if she saw a chambermaid riding her horse.

  On her way back into the house, she almost collided with Mr. Henderson, the butler.

  “Will you mind where you’re stepping?” he complained. “I’ve just finished washing all this silver, and if I trip over you and drop it, I’ll have to take it back and do it again.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Henderson.” Lenora took one of the boxes of silverware out of his hands. “Where does this need to go?”

  “To the dining room, of course,” he said. “We’re already laying the tables for tomorrow night. Thank heavens the Duke only has one daughter.” He shook his head. “Some households go through this affair five times!”

  Lenora laughed. “Lady Katherine is as much work as five young ladies in any other manor,” she pointed out.

  Mr. Henderson laughed. “Still your tongue, before the Duchess hears you.”

  “And I’d better get back upstairs before she sees us together, as well,” Lenora said. “I would hate to cause trouble for you, Mr. Henderson, and you know she’ll be upset if she sees you speaking to me.”

  Mr. Henderson shook his head. “She can be upset all she likes,” he said. “The Duke will never let her send me away. I’ve been serving at Brackhill Manor for almost fifty years.” He settled his boxes of silverware on one of the many long tables in the dining room. “Don’t you worry about me, Lenora,” he said. “Her Grace might be able to influence the rest of the staff into avoiding you, but she can’t influence me.”

  “You’re very kind.” She favored him with a smile. After Jimmy, Mr. Henderson was the member of the household she felt closest to. If she’d had an uncle, perhaps he would have been like Mr. Henderson.

  Lenora left the dining room and made her way back toward the stairs, hoping to reach the second floor of the manor unseen and unquestioned, but again, her hopes proved to be in vain.

  “Lenora!”

  It was the Duchess again. She came sweeping down the stairs looking very put out of countenance. “My chamber hasn’t been tended to!”

  “Yes, Your Grace, I apologize.” Lenora bowed her head. “I’m on my way there now.”

  “I can’t wait all day, you know,” the Duchess said. “I need you in the ballroom all afternoon. When the flowers arrive, we’ll be making arrangements, and the floor needs to be scrubbed. And then I’ll want you in the kitchen, assisting the cook.”

  The kitchen. She could finally get something to eat, something more substantial than a few bites of bread and a carrot. “I’ll hurry,” she pledged.

  “It’s very disappointing not to have one’s bedchamber in good condition,” the Duchess said. “I expect better of you, Lenora.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to get carried away with the idea that your position here is guaranteed,” the Duchess said warningly. “We can find you a new situation, if you don’t feel able to keep up with the work that is required in a manor such as this. The Duke deserves to be surrounded by none but the finest servants. I would hate to think that number no longer includes you.” She raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll do better, Your Grace.”

  “See that you do.” The Duchess marched past Lenora and into the ballroom.

  Lenora scurried up the stairs before the Duchess could return to scold her again. It was utterly unjust, she thought. She had been delayed in her work by the Duchess herself. When was she meant to have set the bedchamber to rights? She could only be in one place at a time.

  At least she felt secure in her position. The Duchess might like Lenora to think that she could be dismissed from the manor but, much like Mr. Henderson, Lenora felt confident that the Duke wanted to keep her in his employ. As Lord of the Manor, his decision was what counted. His wife had no power to overrule him.

  She entered the Duchess’ chamber and set about straightening things up. This room was always tidier, and therefore less work, than Lady Katherine’s. The breakfast tray was on the bedside table instead of on the floor, and the bedclothes were already lying neatly on the bed. Lenora had only to straighten and tuck them and to shake the pillows back into their proper shape.

  When she was finished, she allowed herself a moment to sit at the Duchess’ vanity table and run her fingers over the fine things there. Hair combs, powders, a lacy fan... Lenora closed her eyes and imagined preparing for a ball. What would it be like to have her very own lady’s maid to pin up her hair in the fashionable style, to powder her cheeks, to lace her into a corset and help her into a dress? To be escorted on the arm of a gentleman, someone who would look at her as if she were the most beautiful star in the sky?

  Lenora knew that such dreams were impossible for her. What she had said to Jimmy was true. She did not want to dwell in fantasies.

  But oh, they're such lovely fantasies!

  She rested her fingers on her Lady’s possessions for a few moments longer, wondering whether the Duchess ever stopped to appreciate how fortunate she was to own such beautiful things. Then she stood up, brushed the dust from her dress, and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. If she was very quiet, perhaps she would be able to stop in the kitchen now and find something hot to eat.

  Chap
ter 2

  The front doors of the manor had been flung open wide. Lords and ladies from all over the realm made their way up the stairs, through the foyer, and into the ballroom. Lady Katherine, already on her third turn about the dance floor, glowed in a pale-ivory gown and sparkled up into the rapt gaze of one of her guests.

  “He would dance with her all night if he could,” Lenora murmured.

  No one responded, of course. Lenora had secreted herself away in the kitchen so she might have a front row seat to the evening’s events. Being in the kitchen meant being able to watch all the guests arriving in their finery, but it also meant she was surrounded by the kitchen staff, none of whom were bold enough to actually dare speaking to Lady Katherine’s barely-tolerated chambermaid.

  Lenora did not blame them a bit. If tonight went well, Lady Katherine’s disposition might be pleasant enough tomorrow. But if things went poorly, she would no doubt be in a terrible temper. None of the staff would give her any reason to single them out as targets for her anger.

  For now, at least, it was clear that Lady Katherine was having a lovely time. The dance ended and almost immediately another young man appeared at her elbow, holding his hand out to her. Lenora ached to leave the kitchen so that she would be able to see more of the ballroom than just the doorway, but she dared not.

  A moment later, Lady Katherine was swept out of sight by her new dance partner.

  Lenora, who had been crouched low to peek through the keyhole in the kitchen door, stood up straight and almost backed into the cook.

  “Mind your step!” The cook was carrying a large platter of boiled chicken and had to perform a little dance to evade Lenora. “If you knock over the chicken, girl, you’ll answer to Her Grace! I’ll not take the blame for your oafishness.”

  Lenora apologized, wishing as she did so that there was somewhere—anywhere—unobtrusive and out of the way in the manor where she could have enjoyed the sights and sounds of the ball. Returning to her own room wasn’t an option, to be sure. Not only would she miss all the excitement, she would also be too far from the rest of the house to hear a summons if her service was needed.

  She was, in truth, glad to have the excuse to remain in the main part of the manor rather than retreating to her chamber. It would have been natural for her to do so. She was predisposed to want to be out of the way—or perhaps years of being barely tolerated by the Ladies of the house and the rest of the staff had made her that way. Now, with the manor filled with members of the ton, the last thing Lenora wanted was to be seen.

  But she did want to do a bit of watching.

  After all, for as much as she loved the finery enjoyed by the Duchess and Lady Katherine, she rarely saw fashions chosen by ladies outside her own home. But tonight was different. She lowered herself to the keyhole again in time to see two ladies in bright gowns, each on the arm of a gentleman, making their way through the foyer.

  “Personally, I would never have hydrangeas at my daughter’s ball,” one of the ladies was saying. “I feel they’re a very low-class flower. Very common.”

  “Oh? And what would you have chosen, pray?” the other lady asked.

  “Something exotic,” the first lady responded. “Something my guests would never have seen before. Something to catch their notice and set them talking.”

  The second lady shook her head. “You’ve much to learn about making an impression on the peerage, Madam. You may have married into a title, but your thoughts are those of a commoner. Flowers like the ones you describe would steal attention away from the Lady of the ball. Lady Katherine should be the true flower at this party. The hydrangeas will set off her beauty without distracting from it.”

  Lenora heartily agreed with the second lady. Although she and Lady Katherine had never been and would never be close, it was impossible not to notice how lovely she looked tonight. Every time she whirled in front of the open door to the ballroom, passing within Lenora’s line of sight, she caught Lenora’s notice.

  Her blonde hair had been pinned elaborately up on top of her head and decorated with a pearl inlaid comb that Lenora had never seen before. It must have been acquired specifically for this ball. The hairstyle showed off Lady Katherine’s long, slender neck and seemed to add a few inches to her height. Her gown was somehow both girlish and alluring, flowing simply and smoothly from her waist to the floor like falling water. It fanned ever so slightly when she moved.

  And she had been given a necklace to wear for the occasion. The ruby at her throat was the only color she wore, but it was a large gemstone and was sure to draw the eye of everyone who saw her tonight. Lenora knew for certain that this gem had not been in the manor before tonight. The Duke must have given it to his daughter.

  It all came together to make a lovely picture, and the lords in attendance were definitely noticing. Dozens of eligible men had come tonight, in the company of their mothers and sisters or else on their own.

  Some of them didn’t have a chance, though, Lenora thought. The Duchess would never accept a match for her daughter unless he was high ranking. The Lord and Lady Harreton had brought along their son, who Lenora knew would someday inherit the rank of Baron from his father. She was surprised they had even been allowed in the front door. Mr. Harreton had no hope of wedding Lady Katherine.

  She heard the music change and knew that Lady Katherine’s dance partner must have changed as well. Who would claim her hand for this dance? It was a spirited number and would not afford much opportunity for conversation, but Lenora did not think that would deter many, if any, of her suitors.

  Or would she have remained in the arms of the same man? That seemed unlikely. Lady Katherine would want to be seen—to be desired—by as many men as possible. The more men she danced with, the more men who would think they had the chance to be chosen as her husband when the season came to an end. And that would mean that Lady Katherine would have many options.

  Though it would be the Duke who would make the final decision as to who should have her hand, Lenora knew that he would deny his daughter, and her mother, nothing. Whatever the women decided would be permitted.

  Lenora stared hard across the now-empty foyer toward the ballroom, trying not to blink. There were so many people here! How many of them harbored hopes of winning Lady Katherine, she wondered, and how many were in attendance merely to take in the spectacle, to enjoy the wonderful food and ensure that they had all the gossip?

  The lady who had been criticizing the hydrangeas surely belonged to this second group. Lenora had noticed what her companion had said about her having been a commoner until she married a titled man. As a new member of the peerage, she would be on the outskirts of a party like this. Lenora wondered if she realized that simply by being here, she opened herself up to being gossiped about just as much as the ladies of the manor had by inviting people in. She felt for the poor lady, who mightn’t yet understand what it meant to be a member of the social elite.

  “If you’re going to stand there, at least help,” the cook snapped at Lenora. “Don’t just block the door. This is my kitchen.”

  She was right, Lenora knew. “How can I help?” She didn’t want to be banished from the kitchen, sent up to her room, unable to see any more of the ball. She wanted to know what was happening. Some ladies, she thought, would have confided things in their maids. Some ladies would have told their maids who they’d danced with, who had worn what, how the food had tasted. But Lady Katherine was not that kind. She would sooner don Lenora’s muslin dress and clean her own chamber pot than actually start a conversation with her.

  The cook shoved a cloth into Lenora’s hand and pointed to the sink. “Wash,” she instructed.

  Lenora took her place before the sink full of soapy water and dishes and began to scrub. It was an unusual chore for her, and not one she minded at all, although she knew that the kitchen staff who spent hours every day with their hands in the water developed dry skin and aching cracks on their knuckles. For a one-time chore, though, it was ni
ce. The water was warm and soothing, and Lenora quickly established a rhythm. Scrub a dish, dip it, scrub it again, hand it along to be dried. The task allowed her mind to wander.

  What would happen when Lady Katherine was married?

  Well, presumably she would be leaving the manor, taking up residence in the home of her new husband. But what about Lenora? Although she helped with chores throughout the manor, she had always been Lady Katherine’s chambermaid first and foremost. Would she accompany her Lady to her new home?

  Doing so would mean leaving the manor. Leaving the Duke and Duchess behind.

  She would have no qualms about bidding the Duchess farewell. Her Grace had always hated Lenora, after all, and had made no secret of it. Everything that went wrong in the manor could be blamed on Lenora, in the Duchess’ opinion. Even the fact that there were no white roses to be had for tonight’s ball had somehow caused her ire to be directed toward Lenora.