Surely he didn't think the duke's visit was her fault. She glared at Mr. Telfair. "Yes, to be a respectable governess."
His mouth parted, as if to say something, but the noise of her siblings’ prancing, coming closer, seemed to stop him for a moment. He coughed. "I depend on you to care for them."
Depend? What of love, or even a little smudge of respect? She shook her head as the children gathered about her. "Come along; I have something special for you."
Like a good governess, she leveled her shoulders and turned from Mr. Telfair, shuttling her young siblings up the stairs and into her room.
A sigh left her lips. She should be grateful that Mr. Telfair hadn't tossed her to the streets or forced her mother to give her up. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach as fingers curled around the knob on her door.
It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Elliot would have to come to his senses and marry her soon. Gaia needed to be where the man whose name she bore loved her, truly loved all of her.
She glanced at the beautiful domino she'd created from an old carriage dress and some morning garbs. She could even wear the pink dress she'd made beneath. She'd stand out, and dance with the man she loved. Tonight he'd realize he loved her, too, and would settle it all with a kiss.
"Gaia," Lydia tossed her head back and caught Gaia's gaze, "have you come up with a new torture for us?"
Helena folded her arms over her blue-checked skirt. "We're sorry. A thousand times sorry for setting fire to the duke's horse. How long will it take for you to accept what we say is true?"
Timothy's face bloomed. "Duke. Duke. Duke. He's no mad."
Was Gaia slow to forgive? She suddenly felt queasy at how long she'd offered her stepmother nothing but politeness, and no warmth. That was so wrong.
With a heavy blink, she couldn't push away Cheshire's frown, the determined sound of his voice. Was she punishing him like the girls?
But the duke wanted her as a servant like Mr. Telfair. They deserved.... She deserved.... She was in the wrong harboring bitterness.
Abstaining from forgiveness was dangerous. Oh, God, deal with my heart. "Come here, Helena, Lydia." She dropped to her knees and threw her arms about the twins. "I was so angry, but you're just children. Everyone needs to know they are forgiven. I love you all."
A healthy dose of tears and squirming limbs filled Gaia's arms. Swiping at her eyes, she stood and directed the girls and Timothy to sit on the floor. Gaia picked up her craft box and laid out paper and paste and feathers and other materials.
Lydia picked up a sand-colored feather. "This is so pretty."
Timothy ran his hands through the pile of scrap cloth. He lighted on a deep-blue piece that matched his waistcoat.
Helena made a series of heavy blinks then looked at the jeweled rocks Gaia had collected. "I don't understand."
Soaking up the joy beaming from their faces, Gaia sat with them. "I thought we all might make masks. That way, no one will have to share."
A noisy set of voices and hurried footfalls boomed outside her door. Mr. Telfair, coughing, with a grim look set on his wrinkled countenance, stormed into the room. Lydia and Helena scooted out the threshold. Timothy shrank back into the corner near the bed table.
Sarah and Julia followed Telfair.
Sarah looked flushed, with plum-red cheeks. "This is not Gaia's fault."
In her father's hands were the wildflowers Cheshire gave her; the ones she'd left on the show table. He waved them like a sword. "I will not have you made into a doxy by a rich man. I knew wantonness stirred in you."
Gaia shook her head. "No one is making me into anything."
His glasses slipped down his nose. He shoved then back up the incline of his duck's bill. "So you're willing? He hasn't spoken with me of any intentions. I must deduce this is underhanded."
She couldn't very well let him know the man just needed a governess for his daughter. "I believe he wants my friendship."
"That proves my point. You are too young. Obviously, the duke did something untoward, or you never would have stalked out of Ontredale. I didn't believe your explanation, Sarah." He shook the flowers. "This explains it. We may be poor, but the Telfair name is respectable. You should remember that. I won't have you used like the Olivers’ chit."
"Tsk. You sound harsh, like the old vicar, God rest his soul." Sarah put her hands on Gaia's shoulders. "Yes, she has caught the duke's eye, but we have taught her values. You do her a disservice by not trusting her."
"Enough of your reasoning, woman. Gaia, you will not go to the Masked Ball." He gave her the flowers.
Gaia shook so hard, leaves from the arrangement started to fall. "No, please; I've been working so hard on my costume."
He stomped over to her bed. His charcoal morning coat billowed with each angry step. With a whip of his hands, he tugged the domino off the bedpost. "Here, Julia."
He shoved the cape into her sister's hands.
"But…" Gaia's heart was in her throat.
"This is for your own good. We must fight the foulness of your blood. No Telfair daughter will be led astray."
Daughter? This must be a joke; a horrid joke. "It's just flowers."
He folded his arms. "And they're not from the one you proclaimed to want. Be grateful for the opportunities I've given."
"Yes, passed-down clothes, worn-thin shoes, pretending in public that I am a good Telfair girl, only to remind me in Chevron that I'm not." Gaia stepped away, clutching her bedpost. "Your plans of isolating me won't work. If it weren't the duke, it would be someone else. You want no happiness for me."
He stepped beside her and stretched his hands out, as if he wanted to embrace her, but he'd never touched her more than a pat on the head, or when he raised her hands to show his superiority. "Someday, you'll understand that I am protecting you from the weakness of your mother. She put herself in a position in which she was taken advantage. I won't let you do that."
Was he now suggesting Mama's straying was coercion, rape? Could she be a child of rape? Anger burnt a hole in Gaia's gut. She stiffened, moving away from the lies. "It's not true."
He lowered his voice. "It is. And Julia will wear this outfit to the ball. Someday, you will understand it's for the best. The duke couldn't want anyone like you but for a plaything. His blood is too pure for the likes of you. His motives aren't pure at all."
Hinting at rape would be the harshest thing Mr. Telfair ever said. Why did he put to words how unworthy Gaia was?
Plodding to the corner, he grabbed Timothy's hand. Taking the boy in his rail-thin limbs, he headed for the door. "You know I am right."
Julia put the domino on the bed. "I can't. I've been working on one, but it's not quite as grand." Was the lilt in her voice admiration for Gaia's sewing, or joy from Mr. Telfair's edict?
Numb with unworthy blood sloshing in her veins, Gaia picked up the outfit and the mask she'd labored on for so long. "No, you wear it, as your father demanded." She pushed her sister out the door.
Tears leaking down her face, Gaia felt like falling to the floor. Her innards stung, as if Mr. Telfair took his knife and pierced her through her middle. If her birth was formed from stolen virtue, she might as well have been stillborn. "This can't be true."
Her door opened. Soft footsteps followed. Then arms went about her, but she pried free. Gaia felt so different from the white flesh closing about her. "Is it true? Am I a child of rape?"
Mobcap fluttering, Sarah shrugged. "I don't know… Mrs. Monlin was your mother's best friend; she would know. I'll ask her."
All the ways her head euphemized her mother's affair, the blame she'd been pointing at the grave came back to Gaia. She'd hoped the woman had lost her way and that love had made her break her vows. Now, Gaia couldn't cling to that, not even lust. A wave of vomit coursed into Gaia's throat, burning her soul. "How can anyone love me now? Elliot wanted the first dance with me, but he'll never love me. I don't even love me. I can't be here anymore."
"You
won't run away. Don't break my or Timothy's heart." Sarah took a strand of coral beads from her neck. "Take these. Sell them in the village for a new costume, or go to your friend, Miss Hallow. She seems a bit of a schemer. Have her help you with a different costume, and go to the ball tonight for your dance with Elliot. I'll make Mr. Telfair understand."
"But this is your special necklace, something for your own daughters; not someone like me."
Sarah kissed Gaia's forehead. "You are my daughter. Now go."
Gaia couldn't accept or feel Sarah's love. Mr. Telfair's words haunted each breath. She started down the steps and bounded through the kitchen to the world outside of Chevron. She pointed her feet toward the Hallows', and let her bitter tears flow. What possible reason could God have allowed this? How could she look anyone in the eye, as she was now so beneath everyone?
Serendip Hallow, would she be her friend through this? Would she associate with a black born of rape?
Soon, the tang of salty air enveloped her. Lifting her gaze, she saw the cliffs of Devonshire before her, the grey and brown rocks forming the low hedge separating earth from endless water. Six miles. She'd walked six miles past the Hallows' home. Even the duke's Ontredale sat away off.
Gaia didn't feel tired, just empty. Gasping, she stretched out her hands in the light mist. "God, can You work good from this?"
She couldn't hear His voice or feel His presence, not now, with all her hopes crumbling. The sound of water crashing on the rocks below called to her. For a moment, the pain inside screamed for release. Taking her useless life…wouldn't that stop the ache?
The sea moaned, slapping at the cliff. It was crying out to every weak place inside; the black parts, the white parts, too.
But Gaia couldn't answer. She'd rather let the shame kill her than give into cowardice. She stepped away from the edge.
Turning, she headed to her friend. Serendip would know what to do. She had to.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Wrong Kiss
GAIA SANK INTO the darkness of the Hallows' carriage as it moved to the estate hosting the Masked Ball. Clutching the delicate coral beads her stepmother gave her for strength, she stared at her smiling Serendip. Her friend refused to take them as payment. "You should let me give these to your brother as a bribe, not use your pocket money to get him to ride with your parents."
Seren smoothed her silky curls. "See, you give my brother a fiver, and he gives us privacy."
The beautiful ivory satin of the domino Seren loaned her boasted a lacy, almost bridal-like gown beneath. Gaia didn't feel a fairy princess, just a pretender. People like her didn't attend fancy balls. No, they waited on gentry. Though raised as a gentle daughter, she didn't belong. She knew that now. "I shouldn't be doing this, but I promised Elliot a dance. I won't be a liar, too."
Seren stroked the gilded netting of her skirts. She plopped her iron scale on the bench beside her. "You can't miss it. I'd never forgive myself if you missed this night because of things you cannot control. You need a name of your own. It won't happen playing governess at Chevron or abandoning Mr. Whimple tonight."
Peeking out the window, Gaia concentrated on the carriage ahead. The Hallows, Seren's parents, had held hands as they'd departed Southborne.
"Your parents are an affectionate lot." That is how love should be; ever wanting to be with each other, even when old and grey. I hope Sarah didn't earn too much trouble fighting for me."
Gaia wasn't worth it. The lump in her throat grew larger.
With shaking hands, she fingered the pearls sewn onto the edges of the sheer veil draping her head. "Seren, I'll only stay for my dance."
Her friend toggled the scale, making it clink with her thumbs. "Yes, yes, and the driver will take you back to the house. That's if you want to leave."
"I made a promise to Elliot. That should be worth something. I'm not untrustworthy like Millicent." Or like Gaia's mother.
Seren leaned over and gripped Gaia's hand. "You didn't put the blood in your veins, so you are not responsible. We don't know what happened. Gaia Telfair has to make up her own mind as to who she is. I just hope you really know what you want."
What did she want? To know the truth of her origins? To dance in the arms of the man she'd always loved, and gain a name, a true one that couldn't be taken from her? Or to find Cheshire and accept his apology?
No, she would remain angry with the duke. It was his flowers that caused this. Yet, if not for his overture, she wouldn't know the rest of the lies. The duke was a wise man who could see the truth. Gaia Telfair was a fraud, someone who should be lucky to be a servant to Timothy, or the duke's daughter.
The tension in her neck now pressed her temples. It grew worse as the carriage stopped. "I can't do this, Seren. My head is hurting."
"I think your spectacles are smudged. Take them off and put them in your reticule. You couldn't manage them with your mask anyway."
Seren was right. The soft egret-feather-mask fit close to Gaia's eyes. She let her thumbs trail the crystals lining the paper. "Everything will be blurry."
"Only for a moment; then things will adjust. You're not trying to read. I'll situate you in a salon. And the face of the man you dance with will be in view." Seren reached and took the lenses, pushing them into Gaia's bag.
Viewing things in a haze did seem to lessen the pain. With her silver mask rod, she wore her mask and held onto Seren's arm as they descended the carriage.
Large purple and gold blobs hung from the ceiling of the public assembly hall. The royal colors wrapped about the columns, as if it were a decadent Roman temple. Smells of a feast overwhelmed her as she entered. It had to be roast duck, with every savory herb in the country. Would it taste better than dining at the duke's?
With a deep breath, she rubbed her stomach and followed Seren deeper into the main hall. It was a little frightening. Colored objects would come into focus only a foot or two from her face.
Gaia turned in the path of a tiger, rather two people dressed as tiger, the front, a real animal's head.
Unnerved by the sudden appearance of costumed beasts, she gripped Seren's hand tighter. They moved deeper into the hall as the quartet's music encircled Gaia. The sway of the bewitching tune eased her nerves, blending jackal, sultans, and otherworldly demonstrations into a sea of happy dancers.
With a scan of the room, she spied the outlines of the musician's box two stories up. For a moment, Gaia stopped and let her feet tap to the swirling tunes.
A young man stopped in front of her. "Do I know you?" Though his face remained a shadow, his costume suggested he imitated a merchant from China, with a wide bowl-shaped hat and tapestries fashioned into a robe. He put his hand forward, as if to ask her for a dance.
"Excuse us." Seren towed her away. "You have an appointment, remember?"
They walked down a long hall. Seren tugged at doorknobs, peeking into rooms. "Gaia, this one is vacant. Let's set you up here."
She helped Gaia sit on a settee covered in lime-colored Tammies fabric. The glazed cotton shined. Even as she smoothed the fabric beneath her palm, her fingers shook.
Seren adjusted the delicate gauzy silk flowers lining the edges of Gaia's cape. "Wait here until your Elliot arrives. Don't leave this room; I'll come back to find you."
Part of Gaia didn't want to release Seren's hand. Half-seeing things made the room frightening. Her pulse raced. "What if someone else arrives?"
"Tell them the room is occupied. They'll understand." Seren adjusted her silvery sarsenet cape, balanced the scales she hung on a cord in place of a reticule, and smoothed her wide skirts.
Grasping hold of the armrest, Gaia forced her lips to smile. "Good luck to you, Lady Justice. I hope you have fun."
"If you find the love you seek, I'll be happy. You deserve happiness for being you, not someone's daughter. Tell Elliot of your love. Gaia, you need a name and a household of your own, where secrets can't harm you." She gave Gaia a hug. "I want your cup filled with joy."
&n
bsp; "Even if my cup isn't pure."
"Your heart is untainted by the past, made pure by salvation. That's what matters." Seren put a hand to Gaia's face. In the candlelight, she and Seren, their skin, looked the same. "Live free tonight."
Seren moved out of focus and left the room, closing the door behind her.
The lime blur of the settee was as comfortable as it was big, but Gaia couldn't sit still. She fidgeted and tapped her slippers on the floor. The ticking of the mantle clock filled the quiet room.
Trying to ignore it, she clutched the ribbons of her papier-mâché mask and straightened its creamy feathers. She stood and, with the pace of a turtle, she moved to the fireplace and strained to see where the limbs of timepiece pointed. Nine-fifteen.
Elliot would be here soon. What would she say to him? Would she remain silent and just dance with him?
She leveled her shoulders. How could she not say her peace, as she looked into his blue eyes? How ironic to unmask her heart at a masquerade ball.
The moon finally broke through the clouds and cast its light into the salon. Whether from the fuzziness of her vision or the beauty of the glow, the window glass sparkled, as did the mirrors and polished candleholders of the small room.
The low tones of the musicians started up again. The jaunty steps of a reel sounded. The tone called to her feet again, and she danced as if she were in someone's arms. The beechnut- colored walls and white moldings swirled as she did.
That set ended and then another and another. She paced in front of the mantle clock. It tolled a low moan as it struck ten. Elliot had missed their appointment. Heaviness weighed upon Gaia, from the crown of her costume's veils to the thick folds of her opal domino.
How ironic to stand in such finery, when Mr. Telfair told her she wasn't worthy. Yet hadn't she schemed with her stepmother and Seren to be here? Gaia should leave. Too many wrongs would never equal righteousness.
Movement outside the room sent her pulse racing. Maybe Elliot had been detained, but was still coming. She wrung her hands and looked to the shining circle on the door, its crystal knob.
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