Secrets of Sloane House

by Gray, Shelley

  “Um, I’m not sure. Perhaps Miss Veronica needs her.”

  Mrs. Abrams sighed. “Probably so. Our young lady has a big evening tonight. The Uptons are having a ball and Veronica needs to look her best.”

  Walking into the room, she casually picked up the pair of stockings Rosalind had just repaired. “These look very nice, Rosalind. You do very good work.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “When you finish, go to the conservatory to see if the girls there need help dusting.” She paused, seeming to realize that it was a bit out of the ordinary to keep heaping chores on Rosalind’s shoulders. “You don’t mind, do you, dear?”

  What could she say? “Not at all.”

  “Good. It’s best to keep busy here, I’ve found. If we’re busy, it keeps us on our toes. And out of trouble.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rosalind replied. But as she gathered her basket of needles and thread, she wondered why Mrs. Abrams had felt the need to remind her of that.

  Had something new just happened? Or was she afraid that Rosalind would discover that something unfortunate already had?

  CHAPTER 16

  Eloisa Carstairs was everything Reid Armstrong’s family had ever imagined a perfect prospective bride could be.

  Slim and elegant, perfectly attired and perfectly mannered, Eloisa was the epitome of society, the personification of all that was genteel and good. If Reid made a match with her, his parents would be thrilled. Blessed with golden hair and eyes the color of pale aquamarines, she was the picture-perfect beauty they had hoped for him when they’d sent him to expensive schools and later moved to their spacious house along Michigan Avenue.

  Reid knew this. He imagined Eloisa knew the same thing as he carefully pressed his lips on her gloved hand.

  But their alliance was proof that not even a perfect match equaled attraction or desire. In short, though they did share a slight friendship, it seemed they would never claim anything more.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Carstairs.”

  “Indeed. It has been some time. Since the Griffins’ soiree, I believe.” Reid knew she was referencing that so he would understand that their time together had been remembered.

  “I remember our waltz well,” he replied, doing much the same.

  Her lips curved into a kind, warm smile. Her eyes, on the other hand, kept searching his face for something more. Something that suggested deeper emotion was a possibility. He felt much the same way. But after the briefest of pauses, he inwardly sighed. And Eloisa took a small step backward.

  He wished this was easier. He would love nothing better than to find his perfect match and be done with it. Then he could go about his life. But so far, the only woman who had stirred anything resembling longing or desire was a maid in the Sloane household. He imagined much of her attraction had less to do with her blue eyes and mahogany hair and more to do with the mystery surrounding her.

  Perhaps.

  “Miss Carstairs, would you do me the honor of saving a dance for me this evening?”

  “Of course, Mr. Armstrong. I always enjoy dancing with friends.” She smiled at his grin, both of them signaling that they understood where the other stood. Then her eyes widened as she glanced just beyond his shoulder. Her chin lifted and her whole posture became more contained.

  “Veronica.”

  “Hello, Eloisa.” Veronica inclined her head regally, as if she was the one with the higher social status, when in fact most in the room would consider them equals. “I couldn’t help but admire your gown. Dear.”

  “You are too kind.” Eloisa’s smile turned brittle as she fingered the pale gold gown. It was extremely flattering, and even Reid’s untrained eye knew it had to have cost a small fortune. She turned to him. “Mr. Armstrong, please excuse me. I just remembered that I had told my mother I would check in with her at this time.”

  “Of course. May I escort you?”

  “Thank you, but no. I will be perfectly fine.” Eloisa turned away without a backward glance.

  “Now we may breathe easier.” Veronica chuckled as she closed the gap between them. As she watched Eloisa melt into the glittering crowd, she murmured, “I do hope you appreciated my timing.”

  “Timing?”

  “Well, I looked over here and saw the two of you standing still and straight. Like wooden soldiers.” She pressed a smooth palm on his black evening coat. “I had no choice but to try to rescue you from what had to be an uncomfortable conversation.”

  “I had no idea that you harbored such concerns over my happiness.”

  Her eyelids lowered. “You would be surprised, I think.”

  Reid looked at her a little more closely. As always, she was exquisitely attired. Though some would, perhaps, cast doubts about her beauty or her habit of looking a bit too cynical, no one would ever make the mistake to presume that she wasn’t always dressed in the first tiers of fashion.

  “You look as lovely as ever, Veronica. I do like that color blue on you. What is it? Indigo?”

  “Sapphire.” She shrugged. “I never was one to choose to fade into the woodwork.”

  “It isn’t merely the blue of your gown that makes you stand out, Veronica.”

  Her lips parted before slowly smiling.

  Beyond them, couples were dancing in the ballroom. The eight-piece orchestra’s beautiful strains of a waltz by Strauss created an otherworldly effect. As Reid looked at the crowd, scanning the participants for familiar faces, he noticed Veronica’s eyes flicker with a trace of longing. That look gave him pause, and for the first time, raised his impression of her. “Would you do me the honor of this dance?”

  Pleasure, quickly masked with brittle hauteur, filled her expression. “I didn’t know you danced, Reid.”

  “I have learned all the necessary steps. And I do promise I’ll do my best not to step on any toes.”

  She held out one hand. “I could never refuse an offer like that.”

  He guided her through the throng of gentlemen and ladies, standing stoically as Veronica stopped often to say hello to acquaintances. Then he carefully wrapped one hand along her small waist, held her hand with his left, and guided her into the masses.

  When he looked down on her face, he realized that he’d never been so close to her—not like this. And that she smelled like jasmine and fresh gardenias, a tantalizing combination.

  Her gray eyes, for once, didn’t have the cold, calculating edge that usually rested in their depths. Her full lips held a small smile.

  She looked, for lack of a better word, sweet.

  “Mr. Armstrong, you dance divinely. You’d best look out, you know.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because the other ladies present are sure to notice what they’ve been missing and will be batting their eyes shamelessly at you now.”

  “I’ll try to prepare myself to be mobbed.”

  She laughed. The sound was gay and sweet—again, so different from her usual brittle demeanor. He curved his hand a little more securely around her waist. She allowed him to ease her a few inches closer.

  For the first time in their acquaintance, he imagined kissing her. Pressing those soft lips against his own. Tasting her sparkle. Holding her in an intimate embrace. Without her usual edge, she seemed almost desirable.

  It was a revelation.

  As if she read his thoughts, her skin flushed. “Reid, you are staring at me as if I were a stranger.”

  “Am I being rude? A thousand pardons.”

  “Oh, I’ll only need a dozen of those.” Her smile warmed as she tapped two fingers on his shoulder. “Do tell me, though, what is on your mind.”

  “I was merely thinking about how life continually surprises me.”

  “Oh? In what way?”

  “I had thought I’d known almost everything about you, but then you’ve managed to surprise me this evening.”

  Thick lashes shadowed her gaze. “I can only hope it’s been in a good way?”

&nbs
p; “I can hardly answer that and still remain a gentleman.”

  The orchestra finished the last movement, bringing their dance and their conversation to a stop. Reid suffered from a momentary loss. He had liked being with her.

  “May I escort you to your next partner?”

  “You may escort me off the dance floor. You are ever the gentleman, Reid.”

  He guided her to the side of the room, where the air was a little quieter. “I suppose I will see you soon. Whenever I call on Douglass.”

  She tilted her chin up. “Is that the only reason you come to Sloane House, Reid? To see my brother?”

  “Not at all. He is not the only Sloane who has captured my interest.”

  She nodded her head, accepting his gallant words, just as she accepted that he’d practically had no choice but to utter them. “Of course.”

  He was charmed. Perhaps she was the right woman for him. Maybe God had been simply biding his time, tempting him with housemaids until Reid was ready to accept a lady like Veronica.

  Seeing the open French doors, he was just about to ask her if she’d care to take a stroll on the balcony when she spoke again.

  “I’m so glad we spent some time together, Reid.”

  “The pleasure was all mine.”

  A smile teased her lips. “The truth is, I’ve been a bit worried about you of late.”

  “Oh?”

  An eyebrow arched. “I’m referring to your recent faux pas.”

  “Which faux pas was that?” he teased. “We both know I’ve had many such incidents.”

  Her voice lowered, turning almost slick. “Douglass told me that you had the poor taste to be seen with our newest maid. In broad daylight. That was poorly done, Reid.”

  And in a flash, he was aware of her true colors all over again.

  He hated that she was speaking of things that were none of her business, that she was speaking of a woman who likely delivered her coffee or pressed her dresses as someone less than worthy of notice.

  “You are speaking of Rosalind, I presume?”

  “Oh. Is that her name?”

  “Your behavior is shameful, Veronica. I would have expected a lady such as you to know better than to gossip about a maid in her household.”

  “I would have expected a gentleman such as you to not be seen escorting maids around public expositions.”

  “Is that the problem? That I was seen?”

  Now her gaze was disdainful. “We both know it was a problem. It raises questions about your character.”

  “My character.”

  “Indeed. It is all very low-class. Honestly, Reid, if you are having some little romp with a maid, you should at least take care to be a bit more circumspect.”

  “To protect my reputation.”

  “And mine.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that her brother had been at the fair with yet another maid in the house. That it was rumored he’d taken advantage of many maids in his employ. But that would be neither gentlemanly nor proper.

  He also was tempted to ask why she even cared. But if Douglass had told her about him being with Rosalind, there must have been a reason.

  Though he was almost positive that the two of them had nothing to do with Rosalind’s sister’s disappearance, he knew he couldn’t ignore the opportunity to ask a question or two.

  “The Columbian Exposition is a dangerous place, as is Chicago right now. The papers are filled with stories of women from the country going missing. I would have thought you would be relieved to hear that I was taking the time to escort one of your servants.”

  “I am sure the servants are used to fending for themselves, Reid.”

  “But not all of them have fared so well. I mean, haven’t you lost a few maids lately?”

  “Tilly ran off with a peddler. Or perhaps it was one of the workers at the Exposition? I don’t exactly recall.”

  “And Miranda?”

  Her lips pinched. And, if he was not mistaken, her luminous skin paled the slightest bit. “I am unclear why you know so many of our staff’s names. And why you seem to be so intimately acquainted with them.”

  “That is unfair, Veronica. We both know that Miranda’s disappearance has caused a bit of unease for your mother. She told me about the maid’s mysterious disappearance herself.”

  Veronica blinked. “One cannot always be certain about my mother’s sentiments.”

  “All I know is that she was concerned.”

  “Perhaps she should have also told you that we heard rumors that Miranda had been seen keeping company with a number of men. Obviously her morals left much to be desired. It is not my fault she left. And it is certainly not my brother’s, either.”

  It was time to retreat. Veronica was obviously feeling confrontational. If they weren’t careful, it would cause notice.

  “I do beg your pardon, Veronica. I don’t know why I decided to bring up such an unsavory topic.”

  “I don’t know why either. Just when I imagine you are everything my family has ever wanted for me, you become tryingly bourgeois.”

  “It’s my humble roots, I’m afraid. You can clean me up and teach me to dance, but I’m afraid I am still the same man.”

  “I am finding your company tiresome, Reid. Good evening.” She turned away and brushed into the crowd. He folded his arms across his chest and watched her disappear.

  For a moment he had been caught up in a dream. For a moment he had imagined that he could form a relationship with someone like her. But once again, reality had set in. And he realized that no matter how hard he tried, Veronica Sloane and most of her peers held little interest for him.

  It was inevitable now. Sooner or later, his parents were going to be sorely disappointed.

  CHAPTER 17

  With a smooth turn of the knob and then a well-placed shove with her hip, Rosalind was able to enter Veronica’s room almost silently. Feeling rather proud of herself, she balanced the morning coffee service in her arms and crossed the room.

  Below stairs, it had become something of a joke to see who could convince her to deliver the breakfast trays. Rosalind had made no bones about the fact that she would rather do almost anything than carry the heavy, burdensome trays up the steep flights of stairs—even stand over a hot ironing board and press scores of linen napkins. She had a great fear of dropping one in the main hall in front of any of the family.

  However, today’s duty could not be pawned off to another. All eight bedrooms in the home were occupied in preparation for the dinner party the Sloanes were hosting for Veronica. Nanci had heard that Mr. and Mrs. Sloane expected a proposal soon, and they were bound and determined to present both themselves and their daughter in the best light.

  But besides that, Cook said that for some reason Veronica had specifically asked for Rosalind to take up her tray. Not that she had any idea why.

  Now, taking a peek at the bed, she was shocked to see Veronica wide awake. She was staring at her with a venomous expression.

  Taking a deep breath, Rosalind quickly put the silver tray down on the desk. Then, taking care to keep her expression blank, she spoke. “May I pour you coffee, Miss Veronica?”

  “You may.”

  As quickly as she could, Rosalind turned over the cup, poured the coffee, added cream and sugar as Veronica preferred it, then brought it to her bedside.

  Veronica was sitting up in bed now, staring at her with a cool expression. Unlike times before, she held out her hand for the cup and saucer.

  All Rosalind wanted to do was to get out of the room as fast as possible. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Oh yes.” Veronica set the cup down after taking the smallest of sips. “You can explain to me why you have chosen to make your life so difficult.”

  “Pardon me, miss?”

  “Pardon me? Ah, but you have become so refined for a Wisconsin farm girl, haven’t you?” When Rosalind’s eyes widened, she laughed softly. “Yes, I’ve done a little bit of
research about you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, for some unknown reason, you have decided to make yourself my rival.” Her voice dripped sarcasm. “Now, why is that?”

  Rosalind would have given almost everything she had to be able to leave the room right then and there. She was confused. But more than that, she was truly frightened. She was at a complete disadvantage, and both of them knew it.

  All she could do was say anything she could to assuage Veronica’s fears and leave the room without doing damage to her position in the household.

  “Miss Veronica, we both know that I am only a servant.”

  “Yes, we know that’s all you actually are. But it has come to my attention that you have been overstepping yourself.” She picked up her cup and sipped again, just as if they were friends sitting together in a tearoom. “I heard you went to the Exposition with both my brother and Mr. Armstrong.”

  Rosalind was so flustered, she spoke without thinking. “I didn’t go there with them. I only happened to see them there.”

  “So you don’t deny the rumors?”

  “No. But nothing happened.” Not with her, at least.

  Veronica laughed softly. “Of course nothing happened. Nothing happens to housemaids—at least not anything of consequence.” Her expression became hard. “Actually, in the grand scheme of things, you are nothing.”

  The words hurt. She didn’t care if they were likely true in Miss Sloane’s world. “Miss Veronica, I only saw Mr. Sloane and Mr. Armstrong by chance.”

  “Were you by yourself?”

  “I cannot answer that.”

  Veronica sighed as if Rosalind had just disappointed her greatly. “I’m going to be perfectly frank with you, though I have no idea why. Currently, I am at a point in my life where I must obtain a proposal and be married. My parents expect it, and everyone in our circle of acquaintances does as well. If I don’t marry soon and well, I will become a laughingstock.” She fastened a hard gaze on Rosalind. “I don’t intend for that to happen.”

  “I see.”