by Ruby Hill
Agnes shook her head and regretted it almost at once; some of her hair remained in the brush, pulling against her scalp. “No, certainly not! I just hope that you can have the same joys that I have someday.”
Alice studied Agnes’s face. “I am pleased that you have such joy, my friend.” She continued to brush her hair. “Have you found the grounds and the house to your liking?”
Agnes sighed happily. “I have, Alice, I have indeed. The stables are perfect, and John has already told me that I am able to keep another horse if I wish. The terrace is more beautiful than I could have hoped for, and until we have children, I do not even know what I am to do with all of the space in the rest of the house! There is just entirely too much!”
Alice smiled, and the women laughed together.
“One thing that I do wish for, however, is a chance for life to settle down again. Everything has been so busy, and I don’t feel as if I have had the chance to really experience living in this home yet,” said Agnes.
“That will come in time, I’m sure.”
“And you aren’t lonely?” Agnes asked, looking up at Alice’s face.
Alice shook her head. “Not at all. Most of the staff have been…” she hesitated. “Pleasant enough, but you know that I would rather spend time with my books or with you.” She pursed her lips, but Agnes was sure that she was doing it unconsciously.
Agnes nodded her head slowly. “I understand,” she replied.
“And besides, I think they might be jealous of the responsibilities that I have. I am a lady’s maid, after all, and I am the one to tend to anything that you need.” She switched to the other side of Agnes’s head. “I think that some of them wanted the job and found me to be too young to take on such an important position.”
“Well that is just too bad,” Agnes replied. “You have been with me for as long as I can remember, and I would have it no other way.”
Alice smiled down at her in the mirror. “I was glad when you asked me to come with you. I had hoped you would.”
“How could I not?” Agnes replied.
Alice continued to brush Agnes’s hair until Agnes remembered what she had seen when she came into the room.
“What book were you reading when I came in?” Agnes asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder to the red, leather bound book on her nightstand.
“Oh, that? It’s a book called The Red Night. It’s quite good,” Alice said, her face lighting up. “A young prince discovered a dragon beneath the keep of his castle, just as every prince does the year he comes of age. The dragon is a wise creature and is to help the young prince to train up so he can be a great king. I am only part way through it, and already I cannot put it down.”
“I have yet to hear you speak of a book that you can put down,” Agnes teased. “However, it sounds very intriguing,” Agnes said thoughtfully. “I have not heard of it.”
“His Lordship allowed me to borrow it, as long as I return it to its rightful place,” Alice said. The women shared a knowing smile. John certainly had his quirks, but the way his library was organized was perhaps his greatest one.
“Why were you reading that particular one? Did he recommend it?”
Her cheeks colored, and Agnes was surprised.
“I…I saw Lord Robert Stone reading it yesterday. It made me curious.”
Agnes raised her eyebrows. “That is awfully perceptive of you,” she said, turning around in her chair to look up at Alice properly. “Though I suppose that is not uncommon for you, is it?”
Alice suddenly could not meet Agnes’s eye. She looked all around the room, but not at her. She placed the brush back down onto the vanity table, and she moved to straighten the quilt on Agnes’s bed.
Agnes watched her, quite perplexed.
“He had quite a lot of interesting things to say last night,” Alice began, her voice slightly unsteady. “I particularly enjoyed his stories of London and Bath in the winter.”
“They have been all over the countryside. His family travels quite often,” Agnes replied, still watching Alice move about the room restlessly. “I, too, find his stories most interesting. He would talk late into the night when I was visiting his family before Lord Bridgewater and I were married, and the entire family would gather around. He has quite the gift for words.”
“And he’s a smart man? Lord Robert Stone?”
Agnes could see where her questions were heading. “Oh, certainly. He’s also kind and was most helpful when Lord Bridgewater and I were betrothed. We went through this nonsense period believing that the other did not wish to marry…but that isn’t important,” Agnes replied, smiling.
“Does he…read often?” Alice asked, attempting to keep her tone steady.
Agnes hesitated. “I believe he does. He and his brother are both quite learned men and would often take any chance to engage in some sort of intellectual debate about almost anything.”
Alice nodded her head thoughtfully. “That’s quite good, for brothers to be as close as they are.”
“They have their moments,” Agnes replied. “But I do think they mean well most of the time.” She still watched Alice with an intense gaze, who was still attempting to do anything but meet it.
“He brought us a lovely book, as a wedding gift, in fact,” Agnes continued.
“That’s very thoughtful,” Alice replied. “I believe there is no better gift than a book.”
“I daresay you would believe that,” Agnes replied.
Alice’s cheeks were brighter than Agnes could ever recall seeing them. She furrowed her brow.
“If I knew you at all, dear friend, I would say that all of this talk of my husband’s brother has caused you some sort of…stress.”
Still Alice said nothing. She straightened the same corner of the quilt before attempting to do so again.
“Alice?” Agnes asked, smiling at the young woman.
Alice stood up straight, finally releasing the quilt. She looked back at her friend.
“I just admire him, that’s all.”
“Admire him?” Agnes asked, getting to her feet and sitting down on a settee by the window. She motioned for Alice to sit next her. Agnes could laugh with the surprise of it all. So the color in her cheeks did mean something!
“Yes,” Alice replied. Her wide, doe eyes had returned to their normal comfortable control, and her poise and grace were as evident as ever. It was almost as if she had never reacted strangely at all.
But Agnes knew better. Alice was very good as masking her true thoughts and feelings. In fact, she was so good at hiding her emotions, that she could fool almost anyone.
Anyone except Agnes, that is.
“How so?” Agnes prodded. “Why do you admire him?”
“He’s a man of great faith,” she replied, avoiding eye contact with Agnes. “And he is kind. Much more kind than most men of his stature.”
“Robert is kind,” Agnes said, dropping all formalities.
“He is indeed,” Alice returned. “It must be a family trait.” Then she laughed, a small, almost pitiful laugh, as she nervously smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles in her dress.
“What is it?” Agnes asked, almost hesitantly.
Alice looked at Agnes. “It’s just…I have not met a man quite like him. The way he talks of literature and of his life. I have yet to meet a man who finds books half as engaging as I do,” she said.
Alice picked at the stitching of her dress absently, and looked at Agnes. “It’s rather silly, I suppose. He’s quite the ideal man for any woman with any sense…”
Agnes felt a flicker of fear stir inside of her.
“No matter though,” Alice said, even more quietly. “I could never marry someone like that.” And then she smiled, but it was hollow and didn’t touch her eyes.
Agnes sighed and smiled sadly in reply. She placed her hands on Alice’s shoulders, forcing Alice to look at her.
“I understand what you mean, my friend,” and they stared at each other for a
moment. “Truly, I do. I can see what you are attracted to in him.”
At the word attracted, Agnes felt Alice squirm under her hands. Perhaps it had been a bit too strong of a word, or perhaps it was simply a bit too honest.
“But,” she continued, and the word hung in the air like an uncomfortable weight on them both, “That…that is just something that could not be, Alice.”
Agnes’s voice was quiet, and she hoped gentle.
Alice still smiled, a sort of lopsided smile, as if something was bitterly sweet, then she shook her head, and the smile became genuine.
“Of course, dear friend. It was foolish for me to ever entertain such thoughts. What could a man like that ever see in me? And more than that, why would any man who was the son of a duke fall in love with a simple maid?”
Agnes clutched her friend’s arms even more tightly. “Alice, you are a wonderful woman. I think there are few men in the world who would be worthy of you, regardless of your position. I do not think that even a prince would be worthy!”
Alice laughed, and Agnes eventually joined her. The two women embraced, the tension leaving the room like an afternoon breeze.
“Oh, heavens. So you are all right then?” Agnes asked, standing up.
Alice nodded her head, and Agnes could see any sort of reservation there previously had gone. “Yes, I am. You are right, of course. Except about the prince part. That is just ridiculous.”
“I stand by what I said,” Agnes said. “Now, if you would be so kind, could you help me dress for luncheon? I wish to wear that lovely blue dress with the lace I bought in Brighton, but I shall never be able to get into it on my own.”
The two women continued to talk, but Agnes’s thoughts were still on her conversation with Alice about her brother-in-law. The idea frightened her, because Alice would get hurt by pursuing her attraction to Robert. Not only could something like that the match never happen, but it could seriously damage her reputation.
No, it was better that Alice was spurned for her affections than to allow her to dwell on them and cause far more trouble for her down the road. It was better that Alice was a bit embarrassed now and that only Agnes knew. If Robert were to ever discover her feelings, Alice’s embarrassment would change to shame.
Agnes made sure to give her friend an extra hug before meeting John and Robert for lunch, hoping that Alice knew that she cared deeply for her and only sought to protect her and her heart from the realities of the world around them.
3
Robert accepted his brother’s invitation to stay at Bridgewater as a guest through the rest of the month. John told him that Agnes had been the one to suggest it, and that he would be most pleased to have the company.
Even though he lived a few miles away, the ability to be out of his parents’ and sisters’ hair for some time seemed like a blessed relief.
“They have been almost insufferable since you left,” Robert informed John one morning over breakfast. “They have decided that their new favorite pastime is discussing potential marriage candidates in front of me as if I were not there, and then they see how long it takes before I lash out at them and leave the room.”
“Well, it sounds as if nothing has changed,” John replied, smirking at his younger brother.
Robert rolled his eyes. “I am the only target of their antics now. Consider yourself officially disowned by me.”
Agnes laughed. “I love your sisters and their company. They are darlings, and they mean well.”
“Well, of course you would find them to be darlings, for they are not your sisters, and they have no cause to torment you,” John went on.
“Well, they are my sisters now. Perhaps I shall say something to them next time we have them over,” she added.
John laughed, but shook his head. “That would only encourage them, my love. Better to ignore them, and eventually, they find it less enjoyable.”
* * *
Robert found John and Agnes to be delightful company, and it was only when they went to town one afternoon that he found himself quite alone.
He wandered the long, lonely halls of the manor, the silence a pleasant companion. The staff stayed out of his way, and it left him the chance to peruse his brother’s library in peace. He decided on a little self-indulgence and took his afternoon tea in the study where he had discovered the most wonderful collection of sermons by a pastor he greatly admired. He had no idea that his brother had the sermons in his collection. Robert owned copies of them himself, but he enjoyed returning to them after some time and seeing how the same words read differently, and spoke differently, to him.
He was entirely wrapped up in the second book of the series when he heard something clatter against the ground. He glanced over the top of his book and noticed the fiery red-haired maid whose eyes were fixed on the metal tray on the floor.
For a moment, they simply stared at one another, him with curiosity, her with frightful anticipation.
“My apologies, my lord,” she said, stooping to pick up the tray. “His Lordship gave me permission to borrow books from his library. I didn’t know anyone was in here. Again, my apologies.” She kept her head bowed, and all he could see was the top of her tight plait of hair.
“No need,” he said, sitting up, and smiling at her. “Truly, it was no trouble at all.”
She briefly looked up and then quickly bowed her head again, as if waiting for some sort of instructions.
After waiting a moment, she turned to leave.
“You may choose a book. Please don’t allow my presence to bother you,” he told her and laid back against the back of the chair once more.
“Yes, my lord,” she said, and walked over to the bookshelf.
Alice was very methodical as she perused the library shelves, Robert realized as he partially watched her progress through the room. She had an eye for detail and made sure to return everything exactly as she had found it. After choosing a book from the shelf, Alice walked over to a table and moved a little marble statuette just so, so that it caught the light of the sun and looked almost lifelike.
“I can see why Lady Bridgewater appreciates you so much,” said Robert.
Alice was startled at the sound of his voice. She looked at him over her shoulder with her cool grey eyes.
Fire and ice, he thought. She’s made up of both.
“I do not understand, my lord,” she said, moving farther away from him down the room.
“You are incredibly proficient,” he began. “You do not cut any corners, and you even attempt to make things more enjoyable. Such as that statue,” he said, pointing to the marble woman she had just walked away from. “You did not need to do what you did, but you took extra care to ensure you notice small details.”
Alice glanced nervously at him before looking at the statue. “Her Ladyship was given that statue from her dear grandmother when she was a girl. It is very special to her, so I always take special care of it.”
“But it isn’t just that,” he said. “You take special care of Lady Bridgewater in general. You are…” he trailed off. He was treading into dangerous territory, speaking as casually to her as he was. Agnes was not around, either; they were entirely alone. “You are unlike any lady’s maid that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and Robert felt his heart lurch in his chest. She was stunning, and he could not deny it. Her beauty made the simple dress she wore almost elegant, and her skin looked like porcelain.
And in that same moment, the line between them was more evident than it ever had been.
What harm is there in speaking with the girl? He asked himself. It is not as if I intend to engage her any further than that. I would never bring that sort of dishonor to myself or to her.
At least that was what he told himself.
“I should allow you to get back to your duties,” he said, and the words even surprised him. He was sure that he was going to say something more to her, but fear had won, and he
returned to his seat.
She blinked and slowly turned her back to the shelf she stood beside.
“If I may, my lord,” she began a few moments later when silence had returned to the room, “What are you reading?”
He laid the book down on his lap and stared at her.
Her eyes were boldly fixed on his face, and he realized wildly that she must have been thinking the same thing that he had.
What harm is there in conversing?
It was awfully impertinent for her to engage him so informally, but he welcomed it, for he had been searching for an excuse to continue speaking with her.
Perhaps I am an utter fool, but I am going to ignore what I have been told. Conversing with the help is not wrong. She is a person, just as I am a person.
“My deepest apologies, my lord, I spoke out of line. I–”
Robert had been silent for too long, lost in his own decisions. He held up his hand to quiet her.
“Please, do not apologize.”
She seemed surprised by his response, and there was a color in her cheeks like a fully ripened apple.
He held up the book in his hands. “It is the second series of sermons by Reverend William Blackburn. It is a fantastic series, one I have read many times.”
She fidgeted with her hands nervously, but the rest of her presence was one of poise. Her gaze was on the book he held.
He looked at her a little more closely and asked, “Do you read often?”
She seemed taken aback, and she looked down for a moment. When she looked back up at him, her grace her returned. “I do, my lord.”
An intelligent woman as well. She just keeps getting more and more interesting.
“I do as well,” he replied, getting to his feet, and taking a step toward her. It was hard to be as close to her as he was without feeling as if he might be set ablaze at the slightest misstep. “I must admit, I have met few young ladies such as yourself who have been interested in books.”
She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. A bit of a sore spot, he could see.
“Did you have a governess growing up? Or did you attend school?” he asked.