Colors of a Lady

by Chelsea Roston

  Her laughter was sudden and shameless, cutting of his recitation. Emma covered her mouth, stifling the sound. He frowned. He knew they were bad, but the laughter was a little too much.

  “Oh Thomas, that was wonderful!”

  “But you are laughing.”

  “I love it though.” She grabbed one of his arms. “Could you write it down for me? Please.”

  “Anything for you,” he replied, kissing her forehead.

  Caroline watched the exchange from across the room with a pleased smile. Hearing Emma’s laughter made her feel as if her world was right again. Even with the inclusion of a new aunt and cousin. At the reminder of that fresh-faced girl, the blonde looked to her cousin. Juliet looked at the couple with a shrewd eye, attempting to dissect the relationship on full display for them all. A subtle sneer marred her features when Thomas bestowed a chaste kiss. The girl shuddered and turned away. Caroline blinked trying to understand that reaction. There were so many different ways a person could interpret her apparent disgust. But, she did not wish to venture upon those grounds. Juliet was harmless and she was family. One could trust family. That is, unless they had a murderous aunt on the loose. But really, that was rare, was it not?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I am not discussing this amongst all these people,” bit out Juliet. Thea shot her daughter a warning look. “No, Mama, why should we discuss our business before all these strangers?” She retorted with a sniff. Though she had grown up as little more than a servant, Juliet Wren had never learned the art of submissiveness. She never lowered her disarming gaze and spoke with a tone that could cut straight through the Thames in the dead of winter.

  Emma licked her lips. “Miss Wren is correct. It really is a private matter. Perhaps we might venture to the library?” She batted her brown eyes in a way she learned Thomas could never resist. He nodded in agreement. A gentle smile twisted his lips as he replied. Thea watched the exchange, eyes warming. Despite only learning of a second child a few days ago, she could not help the pleasure that grew in her chest at the happy marriage. Though, she considered, it was difficult to be unhappy in a marriage only a week old.

  “Quite right. Let us withdraw to the library. Emmy, Mrs. Wren, Miss Wren, Lord Sheridan.” They all rose.

  “Oh, Lady Carradine, do play us a lively tune on the pianoforte!” called out Caroline. Her suggestion was met with groans.

  “It seems a tad early for such pursuits,” Helena mumbled.

  “Fie on you. Shall I ring for tea then?” Her blue gaze slid over to her mother. “Mama?”

  Lady Sheridan’s attention focused upon the departing group. A vein in her neck throbbed as she let out a breath. Constance disliked this intrusion of these women. Yes, it seems they were, in fact, Emma’s true family. No, she did not like the tone of that. True family? She was her true mother. She had raised that babe into the well-bred lady that sat before them all today. Yet this woman and her awful daughter…oh, she could not even think about it!

  “Mama? Oh bother, I shall do it myself!” Caroline hopped to her feet. Everyone had been so strange lately. Caroline felt much herself in the end. Life went on even with the disappointing aspects.

  Once in the hallway, Thomas pulled Emma back. She shot him a questioning look. He placed a finger to his lips and pulled her into a small room between the library and the parlour.

  “Truly, Thomas, what is this about?” Emma looked around the room. It looked more to be a large closet than a true room. There were trunks piled atop one another with a thick layer of dust.

  “Storage room,” he answered with a shrug.

  “But, of course. Why did you lead me in here?” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you attempting to seduce me?” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

  Thomas lifted a finger and poked her forehead. “There would be no attempting. I would succeed. But, my intentions are not so scandalously inclined.”

  Her bright smile dipped into a frown. “Then what?”

  “How are you?” Concern etched its way into his dark brows, lining his forehead with tiny grooves. Emma shrugged off his question with a laugh.

  “What an odd place to ask such a mundane question. I am fine, of course.” She moved to leave the tiny room with its insufferable dust. Thomas grabbed onto one of her hands.

  “Emmy.”

  She stopped and turned to him. Those brown eyes he knew so well were shiny with tears. Her mouth drew into a firm line, trying to stop the trembling of her chin.

  “I am just awful really,” she gurgled. Thomas released her hand and opened his arms to her. She rushed into them, blubbering all the while.

  “Shhh, it may not be okay now, dearest, but it will be soon.”

  “It’s all like some blasted play. Honestly, I could write a novel about it all and make a pretty penny. And then Aunt Lucille…s-she just…I cannot believe I am still crying over this!”

  “Crying is natural indeed. You are so strong, Emmy,” he assured her, caressing her back with tender hands. “And that is why I love you.”

  She stiffened in his arms. He heard a sniff or two or three as she composed herself. Her head lifted from his chest. Her lovely brown eyes turned accusing.

  “Excuse me?”

  Thomas bestowed an all too charming smile upon her before repeating, “I love you.” He cleared his throat. “I had truly wanted a grand gesture through which to impart my feelings. As you know, these days since our wedding have been…ah…eventful. I know how romantically-minded you are. You daydream about princes on white horses and maidens locked up in towers.”

  She rolled her eyes to the ceiling with a practiced air, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hands. “That I do; however, I am grounded enough to differentiate between reality and fantasy.” She pulled away from him and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I had been hoping, if you returned my feelings that you would tell me so before we…you know…consummated our marriage.”

  “I had wanted to,” he insisted. “I was worried you would assume I spoke the words in a fit of passion.”

  His wife flushed, a slight reddening that went undetected by most people’s gazes. “It would have greatly improved my experience.” She giggled, all sadness washed away from her eyes. “Not to say it was not enjoyable…well, not the first occasion, but certainly all the times after that.”

  “Certainly,” he agreed before enveloping her into his arms. They kissed with the awareness of this new love and the promise of many such kisses every day of their lives.

  Juliet offered to go fetch her wayward new relations. She had caught the end of their private conversation from her post outside the door. Disgusting. Her sister allowed that man to befoul her body. She trembled. Juliet had always disliked the animalistic mating patterns in which humans reveled. Men did not pique her interest in any way other than a source of wealth.

  If she received any sort of money from this revised will, she would be free of the intervention of men. Juliet smiled. No more subservient positions with odious mistresses and cheap dresses constructed of cloth that rubbed her skin raw.

  She looked down to her hands. How different they were from her mother’s, whose fingers, like crooked branches, rose from her square palms. Juliet’s hands were that of a lady, delicate fingers and smooth white skin. She took great care after a long day of work to massage out the kinks and callouses.

  From a glimpse, Lady Hartwell’s were much the same though browner, a milky tea instead of Juliet’s pure cream. Those same hands with their buffed nails were surely entwined deeply in Lord Hartwell’s thick crop of coal-black curls. If they bred, their offspring would sprout dark unruly coils from their perfect English scalps.

  Juliet stuck out her tongue. Childbirth, too, disgusted her. Another silver lining to this otherwise dull reunion was her twin’s marriage. Mama must leave her be now if she had another daughter more than willing to wed and bed her husband and spawn a multitude of children.

  “Oh m-my, Miss Wren. I did not hear y
ou.”

  Juliet had intended to interrupt the couple. They, in fact, jolted her back into reality. Emma and her sweet voice dove into Juliet’s ears accompanied by a scent of jasmine. She wrinkled her nose at the intrusion.

  “My apologies, Lady Hartwell. Mama and…the others were waiting on you two to begin.”

  Emma adjusted her ivory fichu, tucking it further into her bodice. She then tugged on the ribbon sash beneath her breasts until it was perfect once more. Her husband stepped back into the tiny room. Before Juliet could question his retreat, he reappeared with a wide smile, looking unruffled as ever.

  “We’ve kept them waiting long enough,” he commented.

  Thea heard Emma’s merry spurts of laughter before she even detected their presence. She met the weary eyes of her brother-in-law.

  “She is so…bright,” Thea murmured. “All light and little darkness. Very remarkable.”

  He nodded. “Yes, Emma has always been a beacon in my life. I would not hesitate in saying all of our lives.” Henry unbuttoned his coat and sat down in a chair. “Especially Hartwell. For Kellaway and me, their marriage is the highlight of our lives.”

  “They are close then?” A silly question. She could not forget the way Lord Hartwell roared her name after the first gunshot.

  “Since she was around five, I would say, when they first met. Those two…” Henry smiled up at Thea. “They are good for one another,” was all he said.

  “It pleases me to hear that.”

  “What pl—Ah! They have arrived. Thank you for seeking them out, Ms. Wren!” He boomed, directing the two ladies to seats around a circular table. Emma settled in on Thea’s left and Juliet took her right.

  Thomas took a spot to stand beside Lord Sheridan. The two men looked at the women settled before them. The sight took them aback. Henry glanced back to his son-in-law, hoping his face betrayed the same surprise.

  Thomas’ grey eyes narrowed as he looked over the women.

  It was easy enough to say that Emma and Juliet were twins who bore a resemblance to their mother. However, to see the women sitting in a line showed more similarities than assumed. The three women were a different version of a distinct set of features and characteristics. If a man went to three different artists and described a woman whose likeness he sought out to be immortalized in paints or marbles, these women would be the result.

  Juliet in soft watercolour shades of lilacs and rose with a filmy veil atop her head and ribbon covered braids to her knees. Thea carved out of grey marble, her steely gaze looking through you, a crook in her left hand and a flail in her right. Emma alight in jewel-tones lounging on a chaise lounge, a book open on her lap, amidst ruffles and ribbons. Three very different women connected through blood and a bewitching smile. His brother had a beautiful family. One he would never see. Henry was not a religious man, but he hoped Joseph watched over the women he left behind.

  Henry found his voice. The women were staring at him. Emma’s gaze was encouraging though her focus flicked to the man beside him more often than not.

  “With the untimely death of both my brother and now my sister, it is time for us to discuss their wills. Under normal circumstances a solicitor would conduct these meetings, but Lord Hartwell and I decided it would be best to keep the outcome private.” He shuffled through his papers. “First, I will read from Lucille’s will. It is very short. Let my just find it…” Henry scanned each page, his frown growing deeper as he did. “Where on earth did that blasted document go---oh, pardon me, ladies.”

  “Papa, you can just tell us the gist of it. I will help you look,” Emma offered. She hopped to her feet. After a quick stumble over her trailing skirts, she joined her father.

  “I am going to assume the deceased left all her wealth and property to Lady Hartwell,” said Juliet. “Considering she tried to have us killed and did not suffer a crisis of the heart in regards to our presence in her life.”

  Emma’s unsteady hands halted over a sheet of paper. She swallowed hard, her gaze flicked to Juliet. She stared back at her with haughty eyes. She leaned back in her chair, her honey hair catching the sunlight, illuminating it to a golden shade.

  The Marchioness had much she wished to say to her ill-mannered twin. Some of it included bashing her head through a table. But, she was a lady and should not conduct herself in such ways. She counted mentally to five. After all, if she was in Juliet’s shoes, surely she would be just as crabby. Emma wondered if it was just in her twin’s nature to scoff and scorn at all she encountered. It had only been nigh an hour since they met and the two had not had a conversation. But, Emma saw the sneer that permanently etched itself upon her pink lips. Perhaps after all this business was settled, they could take a walk around the gardens. The weather was delightfully warm. Spring was rolling in gently to England at long last.

  Thea shot Juliet a warning look. The child was insufferable. She had been little better than rude since they arrived at Kellaway House. Everyone seemed to take it in stride, likely believing her temper to be a by-product of the events. Juliet had always been this way though her thorny tongue certainly reached new heights once they crossed the threshold.

  “You are correct, Ms. Wren. Lucille has left all her worldly possessions to Emma—some thousands of pounds—“

  “I do not want it,” Emma interrupted. “I will donate it to charity.” She handed over the will to her father. “We can arrange that, right Thomas?” She looked to her husband, who nodded in agreement.

  “I will need to find a suitable charity, of course. Though I suppose I could start my own too…” She shrugged her shoulders. “I will do my best to correct the wrongs of Aunt Lucille.”

  Juliet did not know what to think of her twin. Giving up thousands of pounds to a charity to right the wrongs of that disgusting woman? It was not much of a sacrifice considering the match she made and her dowry. Juliet heard of little else except Lord Hartwell’s impending marriage to the unsuitable Lady Emma Wren. This was prime gossip among servants. The interest only grew when people discovered her heritage. Frankly, it had intrigued Juliet greatly. Imagine her surprise when she learned this Lady Emma Wren was, in fact, her twin.

  Life could be so cruel. She could have been the one to wear the coronet of a duchess. Juliet did not know if she could suffer the company of the Marquess though. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind of his perfection in form and manners. Not to mention his handsome looks. Female servants swooned when they caught sight of this man. But…Juliet did not like him. She did not like men or marriage. Despite all his favourable traits, she was happy Emma was to be shackled to him for life.

  “Glad that is settled,” Henry murmured. “Hartwell, would you care to explain Joseph’s will? Well, the propose changes to it anyway.”

  “I would be happy to do so.”

  “From what that woman had said, Joseph left it all to Lady Hartwell.” Thea spoke at last. Juliet opened her mouth, but her mother laid a hand on her shoulder. “Since he was under the impression I died and had no inkling of a second child, is that right?”

  “Exactly. However, Lady Hartwell had an idea on what to do with the inheritance.”

  “She’ll probably want to donate it,” Juliet muttered.

  “Juliet,” warned Thea.

  “She wishes to split the money between the two of you. 5000£ to each of you. As for the properties, she would like to keep one of them. There are three homes—in Paris, Vienna and Cairo.”

  “Which one?” inquired Juliet. She did not know about the properties. With that money and a house, she could leave England tomorrow and ever look back.

  “I am not sure,” Emma began. “We plan to visit each property on our extended wedding trip. We shall be gone for many months. I can get some sketches done and send letters to you both about the location and other features.”

  “That sounds like a fine idea,” agreed Thea, smiling between her daughters. Paris had always been a distant memory to her. Before they arrived in England, the wealt
hy adventuress decided to stop in Paris. The Reign of Terror had ended and the people were struggling to find themselves in the bloody aftermath. Yet, the streets still charmed her.

  “You are leaving on a trip so soon?”

  “Yes, it has been in the works for some months. With the wars dying down, it is safe to travel in most places.”

  “I should like to go with you,” Juliet announced in a tone that dripped with the assurance she would get her way. At Emma’s panicked expression, she amended her statement. “I will travel with you all until the first property. I imagine it will be Cairo since Paris is still under Napoleon’s control and Vienna is so far inland.”

  Lord Sheridan clapped his hands together. “That sounds like a capital idea!”

  “Oh yes, it is past the time for Juliet to have some fun.”

  “I will make the arrangements then. We shall leave in a fortnight.” It would be little trouble to book a third passenger upon their vessel, but their trip would be pushed back again. In truth, they should all be observing a mourning period. Yet everyone was decked in their white muslins as if it was any other day.

  Emma beamed at her husband. “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you,” Thomas replied with a courtly bow.

  “Miss Wren, we absolutely must buy you a new wardrobe then. I am sure the modiste can get it ready in time for our departure. What do you think?”

  “Considering I have only the clothes of a maid that would be a good idea.”

  Emma’s gaze dropped to the coarse black dress that adorned her lithe body. It did not flatter her frame at all. Celestial blues and Rose pink would complement her colouring. But Caroline would know better than she.

  “Would you mind terribly if I invite Lady Carradine and my sister-er…cousin, Lady Caroline Wren? Oh, I must invite Lady Hedgeton as well. They are much better at fabrics and fashion than myself.”

  “I do not mind.”

  “Then it is settled. I will call on you tomorrow at eleven.”