The Seventh Miss Hatfield

by Anna Caltabiano

  ‘I’ll be in the library if you need me, but if not, I’ll see you at dinner, promptly at eight.’ With that, Henley walked away, abruptly leaving Hannah and me alone in the foyer.

  I felt that he had dismissed me in the same way that he had dismissed Wilchester, but I suspected Henley was just acting in a way that was deemed appropriate.

  ‘If you will, miss,’ Hannah said. I nodded and followed her up the stairs. Our footsteps echoed in the quiet hall and sounded lonely.

  As Hannah was leading me to my room, I heard a bit of a commotion in the downstairs hall. When I peeked over the banister, I saw Wilchester carrying in Miss Hatfield’s painting, and a couple of other servants I hadn’t met yet toting boxes. I reached up to touch young Hannah’s elbow. ‘Just a moment, please, Hannah,’ I said.

  She nodded and paused on the stairway. She couldn’t have been much older than I’d been when I was Cynthia, but that life was beginning to feel like a distant memory. No matter. I had to focus on what was going on at that moment.

  I cleared my throat and called down the stairwell, ‘Excuse me, Wilchester – could you please tell me where you’re taking my uncle’s painting?’

  He glanced up, a brief look of curiosity flickering across his face which seemed to say Why on earth should that matter to you? But what he said aloud was, ‘Why, it’s going into Mr Beauford’s study, Miss Margaret, as per his orders, along with these other items.’

  ‘Ah, of course.’ I began to feel conspicuous, knowing they thought it odd that I cared about an old painting. ‘It’s just that I’ve grown to admire that painting. It should look well in the study. Thank you.’ I dismissed them with a slight wave of my hand. ‘Let’s go on now, Hannah, please.’

  I did my best to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary, but my heart was pounding fast. The house was teeming with servants – how was I going to find time away from prying eyes to figure out the best way to snag the painting and get it out of this house? Furthermore, how would I find my way back to Miss Hatfield from this strange new location in the country? She hadn’t told me how that was to be achieved.

  At the top of the staircase, Hannah and I turned left and walked down a long hall. She stopped at the fourth or fifth door on the right. I was too distracted about the painting to notice exactly which one. But when she opened the door, the beauty of the room nearly took my breath away.

  ‘Here we are, miss,’ Hannah said softly.

  Against one wall was a four-poster bed with a lovely ivory lacy bedspread and a canopy to match, artfully strewn with several huge fluffy pillows. Fresh roses in a blue vase sat on the dresser, along with a large bowl and a pitcher of water, which I knew – from Miss Hatfield’s instructions – were for washing my face and hands. An ornate dressing screen, which looked as though it had come from the Orient, stood in one corner of the room, and I could see some of my new dresses hanging to one side of it. There was a small desk, or what I recalled Miss Hatfield referring to as a ‘writing table’, in one corner. On it was some crisp, fresh ivory stationary which somehow magically matched the bedspread; beside it, a fountain pen and an ornate ink bottle. A huge fireplace stood opposite the foot of the bed, a small fire within cheering the room with a nice glow and warming it slightly. I found it all beautiful, and at the same time very overwhelming. A nagging feeling in the back of my mind whispered that something wasn’t quite right about me being here. How would I ever get the painting—

  ‘Pardon me, miss. Will there be anything else?’ Hannah’s soft, young voice enquired as she looked at me inquisitively. She was probably wondering why I was so preoccupied with my thoughts and looking so concerned. As Nellie had pointed out, what would someone of my station possibly have to be worried about?

  ‘No, that’s all for now, Hannah. Thank you so very much.’ I awkwardly patted the young girl’s shoulder a couple of times. She was a sweet child, and obviously quite shy. I wanted to make her feel at ease, but didn’t think I was doing a very good job so far.

  ‘As you wish,’ she said quietly, looking downwards as she made a curtsey and quietly departed. I found myself standing alone in the middle of this large room, slowly turning a complete circle and taking in all the tasteful, elegant decor. I should have felt grateful, I supposed, but something about the whole affair sent a cold shiver down my spine.

  I slowly crossed over to the writing table and sat down on the fragile-looking blue-velvet-cushioned chair. I was tempted to journal my thoughts, but realized how foolish that would be. Someone might see them and either figure out who I really was, or decide I was stark raving mad and have me put away in an asylum. I sighed and glanced at the small clock on top of the mantle. Only 4 .30? Almost four hours until dinner. I couldn’t go wandering downstairs in search of the painting. My initial curiosity about it had already raised some suspicion. No, I would have to play this next part carefully. Suddenly I remembered Miss Hatfield saying she would contact me with further instructions. But how on earth could she do that, since I hadn’t known the country estate’s address to give her?

  My head began to throb, so I carefully took off my dress and hung it up. Then I put on one of the soft nightgowns Miss Wetherby had made for me and stretched out on the bed. Hopefully a nap would make my headache subside, and possibly some clarity would come to me in a dream. I chuckled to myself. This all felt so much like a dream – would I be having a dream within a dream, then? I realized at that moment why Miss Hatfield often found odd things amusing. When you’re a time traveller, even ordinary things take on completely different meanings. I closed my eyes and found it surprisingly easy to fall asleep on the big, comfortable bed.

  ‘Miss. Wake up, miss.’ My eyelids fluttered open and I saw Nellie’s familiar face smiling down at me as she gently shook my shoulder.

  ‘Nellie! You’ve arrived, I see. How was your trip?’

  ‘Oh, fine, miss, thank you. I’ve never been so far outside the city. It’s quite lovely here, isn’t it?’ She was taking in all the appointments of the room, much as I had done.

  I sat up, squinting at the clock on top of the fireplace. It was 7 .45!

  ‘Yes, it’s very nice, Nellie. I’m really glad to see you, but we have to move quickly now – dinner’s in a quarter of an hour and I mustn’t be late. I never thought I’d sleep so long.’ I began bustling around, trying to decide which new dress would be most appropriate for dinner. Seeing my frustration, Nellie stepped in and made the perfect choice for me.

  ‘This one will do nicely, Miss Margaret,’ she said as she helped me off with my nightgown and, almost in one motion, pulled the dress down over my head. I was still wearing my corset and undergarments. They were beginning to feel almost like a second skin and hadn’t bothered me in the least while I was sleeping, even though I’d slumbered far longer than I’d intended to.

  I hurriedly crossed to the bowl on the dresser and splashed some water on my face, then pinched my cheeks as Miss Hatfield had instructed, in order to bring some healthy colour to the surface. Women of my station at this point in time seldom wore anything that was considered as vulgar as make-up, with the exception of perhaps some lip rouge (she’d told me they didn’t call it lipstick back then because it was usually kept in a small jar, and wasn’t really a ‘stick’ or in a tube yet).

  I was about to dash out of the door, anxious not to keep the Beaufords waiting for me, especially not on my first night in the country, when Nellie burst out laughing. I wheeled around to see what was so funny. She was holding up my shoes.

  ‘I think you might want these, Miss Margaret.’

  I laughed along with her. ‘That’s an excellent idea, Nellie,’ I agreed as I crossed the room and sat on the bed while she helped me on with them. ‘A barefoot dinner guest isn’t likely to make a good impression.’ We giggled a bit more as I walked to the door. ‘Why don’t you go and get yourself some dinner, too, Nellie? Ask Hannah to show you around. She’s very sweet, and quite helpful, you’ll find.’

  Nellie nodd
ed, indicating she would do so. I took a deep breath and began making my way towards the stairs, knowing I needed to display the proper decorum as I was now not just under the Beaufords’ scrutiny, but that of the entire household staff as well.

  ‘My dear?’

  I paused at the top of the staircase when I heard Mr Beauford call out.

  ‘Yes, Uncle?’

  ‘I believe you’re forgetting something,’ he said, when he reached the staircase.

  I looked down at my feet, which were now in shoes. ‘And what might that be?’

  There was a glint in his eye, not unlike the one I so often saw in Henley’s. ‘An escort, of course!’

  I smiled, lending him my arm.

  ‘You see, my dear,’ he said, patting my hand as we started down the stairs, ‘a pretty young thing like you deserves to have someone on her arm, and anyone would be honoured to have you accompany them.’

  I laughed. ‘I’m glad you think so.’

  ‘Anyone would think so.’

  I was startled by the voice, as it didn’t come from Mr Beauford.

  Henley emerged from one of the rooms wearing a sophisticated-looking tuxedo, still tugging at his bow tie. His hair was swept back and his starched shirt lay flat against his chest. My eyes were drawn to just how sculpted he looked. I was reminded how broad his shoulders were, and his eyes looked even bluer in contrast with his white shirt.

  ‘Oh, son.’ Mr Beauford groaned. ‘I thought I told you to do away with that dinner jacket. It looks dreadful – not to mention, it’s much too informal for dinner with a lady in attendance. I just can’t understand these latest styles that are growing in popularity.’

  ‘I think it looks nice.’

  There was a pause, and I didn’t even realize what I’d said until I looked up to see Henley’s cocky grin appearing.

  ‘Y–you look … polished,’ I said, for lack of a better word.

  ‘Father, the lady has spoken,’ Henley said.

  Mr Beauford sighed in resignation. ‘I suppose you’re right … but only because Margaret is too much of a lady to mind. You might as well escort her to dinner. I’m getting too old for this.’ He chuckled.

  Henley took my arm and wrapped it around his.

  As we descended down the steps, I kept noticing the glances he was giving me out of the corner of his eye.

  ‘I know – I look pretty good for someone who was running up hills barefoot and sleeping on a straw mattress just hours ago,’ I joked once we were out of his father’s earshot.

  ‘You look stunning.’

  I couldn’t think of a clever response, so his words just hung there between us. Even during dinner, his words were the only thing I could think about. They lay unmoving in my mind, not letting me concentrate on anything else. His words made me feel something I’d never felt before. It might have been what Mother felt around my father.

  It was the first time I’d felt more than just ‘pretty’.

  Chapter 14

  The morning sun came streaming in through the curtains, gently awakening me. I slowly sat up on the edge of the bed and replayed the events from the night before as I returned to my body after slumber.

  Dinner had actually been quite pleasant; the food was exquisite, the conversation less than riveting, but fine. I could tell that Mr Beauford appeared to prefer being here in the country; he was just a little more at ease. Henley, on the other hand, had grown a bit sullen since our arrival. I wasn’t sure what was going on with him, although he’d intimated he would be spending an inordinate amount of time with his tutor while we were here. Mr Beauford was anxious for Henley to finish his education so that he could take over the family steel business soon.

  ‘The old fellow’s convinced he’s on his last legs, and that I need to be ready to step in as head of the business any day now,’ Henley had whispered to me as we left the dining room the evening before. ‘Perhaps he’s right. His memory appears to be slipping more with each passing day …’ His voice drifted off on a note of sadness.

  I touched his arm, not knowing the best way to comfort my new friend and confidant. He squeezed my hand and favoured me with a broad smile. ‘I just remembered that my tutor will be off on a personal mission of some sort tomorrow, which means I’ll have a rare day to myself. What say you and I go horse riding? Get some fresh air, do the whole gentry routine? I could show you all my favourite things about the estate.’ He raised his eyebrows, trying to look snooty, and was using a false condescending tone, but when I started giggling at his antics he dissolved into laughter himself.

  ‘I would be all too delighted to partake in equestrian pastimes with you on the morrow,’ I replied with a curtsey. Not bad impromptu chit-chat for a time traveller, if I do say so myself, I thought, a secret smile flitting across my lips at my private joke.

  ‘Hmm … Thou art becoming all the more mysterious,’ said Henley, playing along. Then he grabbed my hand and bowed, and when our eyes met, I saw something in his that both attracted and frightened me. I shivered slightly, because this game I was playing along with was suddenly becoming all too real, making me fearful it would be hard to detach myself from this captivating man when the time came.

  ‘Very well, sir.’ I nodded to him politely. ‘At what time shall I meet you for breakfast followed by a jaunt around the estate on horseback?’

  ‘Breakfast at eight, riding directly afterwards. Dress accordingly, dear cousin.’

  I broke our eye contact because it was bordering on becoming far too intense for my liking. ‘Yes, that will be fine,’ I murmured. ‘Do sleep well, Henley. I look forward to tomorrow.’

  ‘As do I,’ he said softly as his eyes followed me up the stairs. I’d gone straight to bed, not allowing myself to wonder too much about the feelings that appeared to be developing between us. I was most likely imagining them, anyway. What did I know? I had so recently been a child, although I could barely remember that time, and now here I was playing some odd grown-up game, and pretending to be someone I wasn’t, on top of it all. And who was I now, really, anyway? I’d sighed and pulled the covers up over my head.

  And now here was daybreak, and I wasn’t one bit closer to figuring out how to remove the painting from the study, much less how I was going to somehow be transported – carrying it – back to Miss Hatfield. The whole business was making my head hurt.

  ‘Nellie!’ I called, and was startled when she popped her head inside my room right away.

  ‘Yes, Miss Margaret?’

  ‘Goodness, you gave me a turn! You must have been right outside the door.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ It was only then that I noticed she was carrying a tea tray. ‘Master Henley asked me to bring this bit of breakfast up to you.’ She glanced at the clock on the mantle. I followed her gaze. It was already 8 .15!

  ‘Oh, I can’t believe I overslept! I knew I was supposed to meet him for breakfast at eight—’

  ‘It’s all right, Miss Margaret. He’s not upset. He laughed and actually made up this little tray for you himself. “The country air has relaxed her soul,” is what he said, I do believe. I know I slept quite well myself, miss.’

  ‘I’m glad, Nellie. And I’m so happy you were able to accompany us here. Could you please choose something for me to wear that would be suitable for horse riding while I eat my breakfast?’

  She nodded and began picking through my new garments, oohing and ahing under her breath as she found each dress more beautiful than the last. I smiled. Before I left, I was determined to ask Henley to let her keep something. She deserved a little finery, for once in her life. I quickly finished my breakfast and washed my face. Then we hurriedly went about getting me dressed for the day.

  Nellie had chosen the perfect outfit for me: a lovely tan flowing skirt with a rose-pink blouse, and a little weskit that matched the skirt. She helped me dress, and then we pulled on the new pair of boots Henley had obviously bought for me when I wasn’t paying attention. He was so thoughtful, but I hated how he wasted money
on me. And how had he guessed my size? Most odd.

  Nellie pinned my hair up and put a smart little hat atop my head that crowned my outfit handsomely. ‘Thanks for everything, Nellie,’ I called over my shoulder as I hurried out into the hallway.’ I’ll see you later – probably sometime this afternoon.’

  ‘Have a lovely day, Miss Margaret,’ she called after me, a bit wistfully, I thought.

  I dashed down the stairs but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard a familiar burst of laughter echoing up at me.

  ‘You’d best be careful, Master Henley, or I shan’t thank you for that delicious breakfast. Don’t you know it’s impol- ite to laugh at a lady, especially first thing in the morning?’ I scolded, but my eyes were smiling back at him. ‘What in heaven’s name is so funny, anyway?’

  ‘Just that you were moving at near breakneck speed, is all. I doubt any of our horses would be able to keep pace with you!’

  ‘Hmmph!’ My eyes were twinkling as I passed him, and he knew I was anything but angry. He quickly ran to walk by my side.

  ‘Just a moment – you don’t even know where the stables are. Wouldn’t you like me to show you the way?’

  I gave him a sidelong glance. ‘I think my nose and ears could lead me there, even if my eyes failed me. But since you insist—’ I took his proffered arm ‘—please, do lead on.’

  He nodded. I sensed Henley was enjoying our silly little role-playing banter as much, if not more, as I was. I couldn’t help but conclude that he’d had a pretty lonely childhood, especially after his mother passed away.

  We were at the stables in no time, and the sight of all the horses stomping, whinnying and loudly exhaling was quite exhilarating. I’d always been enchanted by the idea of riding, but Cynthia had never had the opportunity. Strange. The few times a memory of my former life popped in to my head, I always found myself thinking of that existence in the third person. Miss Hatfield had intimated this would happen, but I hadn’t truly understood what she meant until that moment.