“Do whatever you like with it. I will never wear it again.” Belle turned back to the mirror and yanked the pins from her hair. “My head aches. I’d like you to brush my hair.”
“Of course, miss.” Emily laid the dress over the back of the brocade chair by the door and moved to the dressing table. She picked up the horsehair brush and drew it through Belle’s long dark hair.
Belle frowned as she remembered the way Drew had been so solicitous of the maid. “I’ve never seen that chit Mr. Hawkes fell on. Who is she?”
“The new kitchen maid, Lily Donaldson. Your cousin recommended her. She was a friend and neighbor.”
“Oh yes, I remember now. You might warn her to stay away from the guests. She’s just enough of a rube to think drawing attention to herself in that manner is allowed. She’ll find herself unemployed if she isn’t careful.”
“I’ll tell her, Miss Belle.” Emily put down the brush. “Is that all?”
“Draw me a bath before you go.”
“Of course.”
Belle stopped her when she started toward the attached bathroom. “One more thing, Emily. I want you to keep your ears open around Mr. Hawkes. I mean to marry him, and I want to know everything you hear. Where he is going and what his plans are.”
Emily’s eyes were expressionless. “Of course, miss. Does your uncle know?” She bit her lip. “Forgive me, I spoke out of turn. It’s none of my business.”
Belle smiled, certain the girl would carry the tale back to the kitchen, just as she’d planned. She hadn’t been oblivious to the way the servants fawned over Hawkes. “I shall tell my uncle when I’m ready. And the other man—the older gentleman with the whiskers who was talking to my uncle? Whatever you do, don’t let me be alone with him. My uncle means to marry me off to him, and that won’t do. It won’t do at all.”
“Of course, miss.” Emily vanished into the bathroom, and the sound of the water began.
Belle tossed her hair away from her face. Her plans would fall into place. She would make sure of that.
“Take the back stairway to the third floor and take a right. At the next hall take a left.”
Her chest tight, Lily crept through the dark halls and corridors. The housekeeper’s instructions had been vague, and this place was so large and intimidating. The hallways were poorly lit up here where only the servants resided. The plain plank floors were painted instead of stained, and the plaster walls were chipped in places. The painted molding was a dull green.
She paused at the first intersection, then turned right. Disembodied voices, too low to make out any words, added to her sense of disorientation. She hurried down the hall as if she knew exactly where she was going, even though she was terrified some monster would loom out of the shadows. She was even more frightened she’d open the wrong door and be sent packing. Lily reached the next junction and took a left. Her bedroom was supposed to be the last door on the right.
She opened the door and stepped inside, then shut it and leaned against it with her eyes closed. She’d made it. Opening her eyes, she stepped to the open window where she could see the lights of Austin glimmering on the water of the Colorado River. Wagons and horses still clattered past, and the laughter from a tavern down the street came to her ears.
Andy was here, here, in the least likely place she’d ever expected to see him. Why did this have to happen now when she was finally ready for a new life?
She glanced around the room. A metal bedstead held a double mattress that sagged a bit in the middle. A red, white, and blue quilt in a Texas star pattern covered it. The pillows were flat but covered by clean fabric. The wide wood floorboard was unpainted and bare. A crate acted as a night table and held a kerosene lamp. Several candles and matches lay beside it.
In other words, very much like home. Plain and comfortable. She would be happy here.
She opened the closet and found her valise. Her two dresses were wrinkled from the trip, and she shook them out before hanging them on a nail in the tiny closet. She took off her skirt and blouse and hung them up, then pulled out her nightgown.
There was something scratchy on the shoulder, and she held it up to the lamplight. A piece of paper? She unpinned it and studied the single word: Welcome. Emily must have thought to do it. Or one of the other kitchen maids. She smiled in spite of the way her head ached, then found her brush. She pulled out the hairpins, then brushed out her long blond hair and braided it.
The door creaked open behind her, and Emily stepped into the room. “You’re still up! I expected you to have found your rest by now.” She shut the door. “Still no lock on this door, though I’ve asked five times. Ever since that wretched murderer started attacking women.”
Lily glanced out at the dark and shuddered. She wouldn’t sleep a wink. She stared at Emily. There had been no time to take the measure of her roommate when Lily first arrived. The other woman was tall, a good head taller than Lily. Her light brown hair was clean and glossy, and her clothing fit well. She took pride in her appearance. And Lily liked Emily’s clear gaze and friendly smile. Perhaps they could be real friends. She needed a companion.
Emily frowned as she took in Lily’s expression. “Aw, it’s your first night, love. You’ll get used to it. The Marshalls aren’t so bad.”
When Emily touched Lily’s arm, she flinched and swallowed hard. Her eyes burned with the endeavor to hold back the tears. “So many people. Such lavish clothes and all. I hardly knew what to say to the guests.”
“You’re about to cry. I know you’re feeling all alone, but we’ll be friends.”
At the woman’s kind words, Lily lost the battle. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she gulped. “Of course that’s all it is. Homesickness. I’m not used to the city. It’s noisy here,” she added when men guffawed again from the tavern. “And thank you for the note.”
“What note?”
Lily picked it up off the bed. “Didn’t you put this on my nightgown?”
Emily stared at it and shook her head. “Probably one of the kitchen maids.” She patted Lily’s shoulder. “Things will look brighter in the morning.” She took off her hat and apron, then hung them on a hook by the door. “You’re a small-town girl, just like I was. You’ll get used to it. I heard you nearly got squashed at the ball.”
Lily nodded as she sank onto the edge of the bed. The sheets and quilt smelled clean and fresh. “Mr. H-Hawkes fell on me.”
Emily winked. “I wouldn’t mind having him fall on me. All the girls want to bring him his breakfast when he’s staying here.”
“I-Is he staying here now?” The thought of running into Andy in the hall made her quail. She had to be careful to keep her distance from him at all times.
“He’ll be here for the next month. He’s in the west wing. I get to take his breakfast to him tomorrow.”
“How long have you known him?”
Emily disrobed and pulled on a long cotton nightgown. “I wouldn’t say any of us know him. He is a business partner of Mr. Marshall’s, and he’s much too upper crust for the likes of me. But he’s a lovely man for sure. Always kind and polite.”
“You said he’s a business partner of Mr. Marshall’s? What does he do?”
“He handles investments. Mr. Marshall says Drew has made him a wealthy man.”
Drew. Lily tried to wrap her head around the different nickname. And Hawkes, not Hawkins. Why wasn’t he using his real name? Because people might figure out he was a ranch hand from Larson, Texas? He’d always had an aptitude for mathematics, and it didn’t surprise her he’d found his fortune that way.
“He’s a little mysterious though,” Emily said, plaiting her hair.
Lily’s pulse sped up. “Mysterious?”
“He never mentions his family. I tried to find out where he’s from, and he just said he’s a Texan like everyone else.” Emily frowned. “His accent is Texan, so maybe I’m making too much of it.” Her expression cleared and she smiled at Lily. “What did he say when he helped you u
p?”
What had he said? Lily couldn’t remember. She’d been lost in his dark brown eyes. Eyes she’d begged God to let her see again. Now here he was, and she was wishing she’d never dared ask for anything so presumptuous. It would be better not to know why he’d deserted her. Better to pretend his love had never failed.
Emily touched her arm. “You have a funny expression. Are you in pain?”
The pain was enough to suffocate her, but Lily shook her head. “I just have so many questions. What of Mr. Lambreth? I thought him a bit forward.”
Emily lifted a brow. “He usually acts like we’re fence posts. He’s a nice enough chap. He’s been here about six weeks, but he’ll be going back to Spain at the end of the summer.”
“How exciting. What does he do there?”
“He manages the estates there. A vineyard I believe.”
Lily rubbed her head. “I’m just so discombobulated I hardly know where I am or if this is all a dream.”
“You’ll know at five that it’s all too real.” Emily crawled into the left side of the bed.
“We get up at five?”
Emily nodded. “You’ll need to help in the kitchen, then prepare Miss Belle’s breakfast and take it up to her. She doesn’t have a lady’s maid. Her morning room will need to be freshly cleaned, and you can do that tomorrow. We take turns.”
It all sounded quite overwhelming. “Mrs. Marshall asked me to attend to her in the morning. She hurt her arm and is struggling with her hair.”
Emily’s brows drew together. “Why would she ask you? She could have asked me or one of the other maids to help her.”
Lily bit her lip at the censure in Emily’s voice. “She looked at my dress and asked if I’d made it.” She pulled back the threadbare sheets and slid into the bed. The slight sag in the middle made her roll against Emily.
“We should get some rest.” Emily’s voice was clipped. “It’s nearly two. Put out the light.”
“Of course.” Lily put out the kerosene lamp. “Emily? I didn’t mean to upset you.” The darkness added to the silence for a long moment.
“It’s all right, love. I’m not mad at you. Just a little jealous you’ve been singled out so quickly. Take advantage of tomorrow. I’d love to be a lady’s maid, but I’ve never gotten the chance.”
“It’s only temporary until her arm heals.”
“We’ll see.”
Lily gulped and tried to hug the edge of the bed. With all her heart, she wished she were back in Larson sewing dresses.
THREE
Lily’s eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep as she dressed in her black uniform and white apron before going off to find the kitchen. She’d lain awake listening to every creak outside in the hall and wishing there was a way to lock the bedroom door.
She made several wrong turns before she found the kitchen stairway in the back of the house. The large room teemed with activity as kitchen maids scurried around. Mrs. O’Reilly was dressed in a spotless white blouse and black skirt. Not a wisp of red hair had dared escape the pins. She was directing the efforts with a soft voice undergirded with steel.
Lily stepped closer. “Mrs. O’Reilly?”
The housekeeper looked up. “There you are. Emily has offered to take over your shift tending to Miss Belle so you can learn the ropes here in the kitchen.” She pointed to the large wooden worktable. “That’s for mixing the pancakes. The ingredients are in bins along the wood counter.” She gestured to a butcher-block counter lined with tins of varying sizes.
Lily looked away. “I’m happy to do whatever you want. I’m to go see Mrs. Marshall this morning after breakfast. She wants me to help her with her hair.”
Mrs. O’Reilly’s face went blank. “So she told me. What did you do to finagle such a request?”
“Nothing, ma’am. She looked me over last night and asked who had made my dress. I made it myself. Then she asked if I was familiar with the current hairstyles. The next thing I knew, she was ordering me to help her this morning.”
The housekeeper pursed her lips. “I won’t have a maid who is scheming behind my back, Lily. Did you come here hoping to work your way out of the kitchen?”
Lily held the woman’s gaze. “I am just grateful to have a job, Mrs. O’Reilly. I am unfamiliar with what a lady’s maid even does. I only wish to be of service and earn my living. I came here expecting only to be a housemaid.”
Mrs. O’Reilly’s brown eyes softened. “Very well. I’ll put aside my suspicions for the time being. There’s nothing wrong with working your way up in the world, but I don’t like connivers.”
Lily glanced at Emily, then back to the housekeeper. “Neither do I, ma’am.” She moved to the worktable to begin preparations for the pancakes.
As soon as Mrs. O’Reilly left the kitchen, Emily moved closer to Lily. Her hazel eyes were anxious and high color stained her cheeks. “I hope you’re not upset, Lily. I know how Miss Belle likes things done, and I thought you’d have enough to learn today without more.”
Was that the only reason for the change? Lily studied her roommate’s expression but couldn’t make up her mind. “I appreciate your concern. I’m sure it will be helpful to learn things one step at a time.”
Emily ducked her head and moved back to her post at the stove when the housekeeper came back into the room.
It was going to take all of Lily’s concentration to figure out her place here and who was friend or foe.
Lily’s heart pounded as she entered Mrs. Marshall’s room to wait for her as instructed. The bedchamber was enormous. Blue-and-white toile paper covered the expansive walls that rose to a domed ceiling at least twelve feet high. The fresco around the top gleamed with gilding. The Chippendale furniture was in impeccable condition. Her feet sank into thick carpeting the color of rich butter, and the sweet aroma of flowers permeated the room.
She touched the blue cover over the gigantic bed. Real silk. She whirled and put her hands behind her back as her employer entered from the balcony. Mrs. Marshall was dressed in a pale pink robe, and her hair was still on her shoulders.
She lifted a brow at Lily’s appearance. “Ah, there you are. I’m finished with breakfast. You can take the tray away when you’re done assisting me.”
“Of course.”
Mrs. Marshall walked to a door and pulled it open to reveal lustrous gowns of every imaginable color. “I’m going out with Belle for a ride with Mr. Vesters, but I’m not sure what I want to wear.”
“May I?” When Mrs. Marshall nodded, Lily reached past her. “This is very fashionable. I’ve only seen it in magazines.” She pulled out a pale gray walking skirt. “The shorter length will make it easier to get up and down from the carriage. And you have a lovely frilly blouse that will echo the frills on the hem.” She pulled it out too.
“I haven’t worn that yet. The skirt seemed scandalously short.”
“It’s only two inches higher than normal.”
“Clearly you have studied fashion.”
The tension began to ease from Lily’s shoulders. “Yes, ma’am. My mother taught me well, and I’ve read every Godey’s I could get my hands on.” She caressed the fine fabric of the skirt. “This is very well made.”
“It should be. It cost the earth. I’ll trust your judgment and wear it.”
“And these shoes.” The skirt and blouse over her arm, Lily grabbed up a pair of white patent leather shoes.
“Indeed.” Mrs. Marshall allowed Lily to dress her, then moved to the dressing table. “I’d like a chignon if you can manage it.”
Lily gathered the woman’s thick blond hair in her hands and began to style it. When she was done, she stepped away. “Does it pass muster?”
Mrs. Marshall put her hand to her hair. “It’s lovely, quite lovely.” She twisted on the stool and looked up at Lily. “Your talents are wasted in the kitchen, Lily. I think you would suit quite well as a lady’s maid to Belle. I shall talk to her at once.”
Lily’s heart sank a bit. �
�I’ve heard she doesn’t wish to have a maid.” And Emily might not appreciate a fast promotion for Lily.
“That’s true, but I’ll prevail upon her. Leave it to me.” She rose and slid her feet into the shoes. “Run along with the tray. We’ll talk later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lily curtsied and went to the balcony to retrieve the tray.
The garden looked glorious in the morning sunlight. Blooms of every color imaginable burst forth from green leaves. The hedges were perfectly manicured. But her gaze fell on a familiar form. Andy stood with his hands in his pockets, an achingly familiar stance. It felt strange to see him dressed in such a stylish morning coat instead of work clothes.
She stepped away when he turned. Her heart couldn’t bear to look in his eyes.
FOUR
Drew mopped his brow and stared at the patio door. Butterflies swarmed the bushes in the garden that surrounded the stone patio. The sweet scent of some kind of flower filled the air. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Lily’s face. What was she doing here? Had she found him somehow? But no, he’d seen the shock in her beautiful blue eyes when she’d seen him.
He pulled out his pocket watch. Nearly eight. Maybe he could slip into the house and find her.
The door opened and Emily, one of the kitchen maids, stepped out of the large French doors onto the patio. She carried a tray. Her hazel eyes sparkled under her cap. “Good morning, Mr. Hawkes. I’ve brought your breakfast.”
He waited until she set the tray on the table. “Thank you. I was wondering about the young woman I knocked down last night. Is she up? I’d like to make sure she suffered no ill effects.”
Emily nodded. “Oh yes, she’s been up for hours. Shall I fetch her?”
“Please do.” He spread the white napkin on his lap, but his stomach clenched at the thought of swallowing anything. He’d been ready to blurt out everything last night, but in the bright light of day, he realized how disastrous that would be.
Butterfly Palace Page 3