Secrets in Mourning

by Janelle Daniels

  “I would like to hold a luncheon in three days. It won’t be a grand affair, but I suspect there will be about ten guests in attendance.”

  “That should be no problem.” Victoria agreed readily, hoping that her response would be enough to allow her to leave immediately. She wasn’t so lucky.

  “It will need to be perfect, you understand. If something is not right, it will reflect poorly on me.”

  Victoria gave a stiff nod.

  “Are you capable of arranging the event or will I need to do it myself?”

  The comment was ridiculous since Victoria had been running the household for weeks more smoothly than it ever had been before. It was said to be contrary, it was said to demean.

  “Quite. I doubt there should be any problems. You and your guests will have an enjoyable afternoon I’m sure.” Assuming the conversation was finished, Victoria made it to the door before the woman spoke again.

  “I require your presence there as well.”

  “Mine?”

  “Absolutely.” The gleam in the woman’s eyes was enough to have Victoria sighing in frustration. The woman wanted to torment her in front of all of her friends. She wanted to humiliate her, humble her.

  Chin notching up, Victoria stood her ground. “Whatever for? I doubt you would enjoy my presence there.”

  “Oh, on the contrary, my dear. I’m sure my friends would be delighted to meet such a young, accomplished lady from London.” The compliment was said, but the snide tone belied her kind words. “I require it.”

  There was no way around it. With the final command in place, Victoria was forced to nod her acceptance. It would just be one more afternoon in a long line that she had to endure. How much more humiliated could she be? “All right then. I shall make a point to attend.” It was said as if she had a choice, but both women knew that she didn’t.

  The luncheon was easy enough to arrange. One quick conversation with Cook and the maids and there wasn’t anything left to do until the afternoon of the event.

  The sun was brilliant that day, not one cloud dared to intrude upon the Countess’s luncheon. She would be pleased.

  After checking on the last-minute arrangements, Victoria was satisfied that everything was in place. While they were still running with fewer servants than they should, the luncheon was bound to be a success.

  “Molly, I shall need your help dressing this morning.” Just thinking of the garment she would need to wear this afternoon made her cringe. Not that she didn’t enjoy the fine silk of the gown, even if it was the color of death, it was the row of buttons up her back that she didn’t look forward to. It was strange that she wouldn’t have thought of such a minor thing a few months ago. She would have just expected her lady’s maid to dress her regardless of the buttons. Oh, how things had changed. Now, she would prefer a gown she could dress herself in quickly with little fuss.

  The maid nodded her consent; her manner was respectful, but Victoria knew the servants still didn’t want to befriend her.

  “Thank you.”

  Laying out her own gown, Victoria tried to mentally put herself back into society mode. While she wasn’t exactly the hostess of this event, she was still responsible for it. And if there was one thing she had learned, it was that you must always present yourself in the best light possible. You must make others think you are superior if you wished to stay at the top.

  It had always been easy for her. Acting like she was untouchable, flirting with men then discarding them, only making them want her more. It had been a game to her.

  Looking at her dress, she only saw it as a chore now.

  When had that happened? She had always loved the glittering parties, the dashing suitors. It all seemed so fake now. She couldn’t imagine going back to that world.

  It was strange.

  Shifting to her looking glass, Victoria examined herself in the mirror. She looked the same as before. Flawless skin, raven hair, crystal blue eyes. Her figure might have slimmed down a bit since being here, no doubt from the work she was doing, but it only emphasized her small waist, her generous curves.

  Looking in the mirror, she saw what others saw. An incomparable. A diamond of the first water. But she didn’t feel that way anymore.

  The confidence she wore as a shield was gone.

  The woman in the mirror was a stranger to her. She was someone from the country, someone who wanted peace. Someone who wanted love.

  Startled, she stared at the shock in her own eyes. Where had that come from? Love had never been a part of what she wanted. It had never entered her mind. When pursuing one man alone, it was vicious. It was calculated. Love was neither of those things.

  Yet there it was. In the back of her mind, she wanted to love and be loved in return. Oh, how impossible it seemed.

  Before resigning to lock away the ridiculous dream, Victoria pondered on it. Perhaps it wasn’t completely impossible. Maybe it just took a different frame of mind.

  “May I come in?” Molly’s voice sounded through the door.

  Jerking away from the mirror, Victoria took a few deep breaths before answering, her hand touching her jumping stomach. “Ah, yes, Molly.” When the maid entered, Victoria gave the woman a small smile. It was more than she had ever done before. “Thank you for coming. I know you are very busy.”

  The woman smiled back before she sobered, almost as if she suddenly realized who she smiled at. “It was no trouble, Your Grace.”

  Quickly undressing out of her gown, the new, button-clad one was quickly brought over her head and fastened.

  “Would you like me to dress your hair?”

  “I would appreciate it. I can’t manage much more than a simple chignon.”

  Taking a seat in front of her vanity, Victoria began to think of the guests that would arrive shortly. But the minute Molly had loosened her hair and began running a brush through it, all thoughts of the event fled.

  The small pampering was so pleasurable she almost moaned. Had having her hair brushed by another always felt this good? She couldn’t say for certain because after having it happen every day of her life it had become the ordinary.

  It would never be ordinary again.

  “Would you like me to plait it?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  The question seemed to surprise the maid, her hands stopping their movement. “I would suggest something simple. Your bone structure is superb and you don’t need to be too intricate with your hair. I think a plaited chignon would look wonderful.”

  “All right, then.”

  Molly worked in silence while Victoria enjoyed the pampering. It would probably be some time before she received such ministrations again. While it was silent in the room, excluding the occasional sound of her hairbrush running through her thick tresses, it wasn’t uncomfortable. While not exactly friends, they had fallen into a companionable silence.

  It was more friendship than she had felt with someone in a long time.

  Molly finished pinning the last section of hair, stepping back before she spoke. “Will there be anything else?”

  “No. I think I can manage the rest on my own. Thank you again, Molly.” The maid gave her another small smile before leaving the room.

  It was progress. While they could never truly be friends because of their class distinction, it would be nice to have at least one servant that didn’t hate her.

  In fact, it would be nice to have a friend. She would be here for several more months. There was no reason why she couldn’t have a casual friendship with one of the ladies in the area.

  She might even be able to find someone to befriend this very afternoon. Granted, the ladies were mostly the Dowager Countess’s friends, but there was bound to be a few daughters among the guests, women her own age.

  The thought settled in her heart, giving her a little more bounce to her step as she made her way down to greet the guests. Perhaps this afternoon wouldn’t be as terrible as she had first thought.

  This would
be a beginning to how she meant to go on. To how she had wanted to be in London. She didn’t have to alienate everyone; she could be different.

  Walking into the parlor, thinking of the way she wanted to be, she forgot to enter the room with her shoulders straight, her posture perfect.

  “Ah, here she is. Your Grace, allow me the pleasure of introducing you to my dear friends.” The Dowager Countess motioned for Victoria to enter farther into the room, but the gleam in the woman’s eye had her pausing. Taking a quick breath, Victoria automatically straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin a notch and glided over to the group.

  “Lady Tawly, Lady Kenton, may I introduce Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Norwich? She is the dear sister-in-law that I’ve been telling you of.”

  “I see.” Lady Tawly looked at Victoria as if she were a specimen. She wasn’t young by any means; in fact, both of the women seemed as old as the Dowager Countess herself. “Well, I can tell you were exactly right about her, Evelyn.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Victoria looked between the women, trying to figure out what Lady Tawly had been speaking of.

  Lady Kenton stepped forward slightly, the pink feather in her hair sat saucily in her lightly graying blond hair. “Oh, nothing to worry of, my dear. The Countess has been telling us of your many virtues.” Or lack thereof, if her tone was any indication.

  “How kind.”

  “Yes, it isn’t every day that one meets with a lady as talented as yourself in so many menial household tasks.”

  The snickers that ensued had Victoria raising her brow. “Indeed? I would think that the tasks that I have been performing were quite common.”

  “Common, indeed.” More snickers.

  Victoria could see where they were heading, but she didn’t want to let them upset her. While she may not be used to involving herself in the actual tasks required to make a household run smoothly, it had been necessary to make sure they were done properly.

  “Ah, I think I hear more arrivals. I think I shall greet them.” Rising, Victoria didn’t bother to look at the other women. She knew they wouldn’t give her any attention anyway.

  If Victoria was hoping to find a kindred spirit amongst the guests that afternoon, she had been severely mistaken. It was obvious from the moment she greeted each guest that the Countess had informed them of her already. Each seemed set against her, ready to mock her at a moment’s notice.

  In fact, as the afternoon progressed, it seemed as if Victoria herself was the entertainment, a target for the other women to bait.

  “So tell me, Your Grace, are all the ladies in London wearing such forward fashions as yourself?”

  Victoria didn’t need to look down at her simple black dress to figure out if it was stylish or not. Not having had much time in London to have the proper dresses made, she had had to purchase what was already made. With the lack of diversity of dressmakers in the village, it wasn’t possible to have the latest fashions here.

  Glancing up at the woman, Victoria tried to smile. Another one of the Countess’s lifelong friends no doubt. In fact, most of the women in the room seemed about the old woman’s age. “The fashion is London at this moment is quite exquisite. The full skirts and the heavily decorated material is eye-catching, especially when paired with a gentleman’s stark evening clothes.” Taking a sip of water, Victoria gathered what poise she had left. “Unfortunately, with the death of the Duke, and my quick departure for Scotland, I was unable to have gowns made in time.”

  The woman nodded and smiled, but it was more condescending than understanding.

  “And I must ask about your hair, Your Grace, if I might be so bold,” Lady Tawly spoke up. It wasn’t hard to miss the laughter hidden behind someone’s cough. “Such simplicity is so becoming on you. Is it the style in London as well? I can only imagine what a relief it is to not have to have a maid curl your hair every day with a hot iron.”

  Knowing the Countess’s situation, they would surely know that she didn’t have her own lady’s maid. No true lady should ever be without one. The smile that Victoria forced to her lips was brittle. She didn’t need the constant reminder from these women about how far she had fallen in fashion. She knew she was going without. Knew that she struggled on a daily basis.

  “I must admit, that it is quite nice not to have to sit in front of the dressing vanity for hours at a time getting my hair dressed. It saves much time.”

  “I’m sure, my dear. And being here, you have much work… I mean things to oversee, I’m sure.”

  Her head began to ache about the same time as her chest clinched. Looking around the room, trying to keep her cracked smile in place, she didn’t see one friendly smile among the group.

  More like vultures, the women seemed to circle her, looking for any vulnerabilities that they could uncover. It was obvious that they had been called here for one purpose, and one purpose only, and that was to bring her down.

  Dabbing her lips, she smiled at the group as she stood. “Pray, please forgive me, but you just reminded me of something I must see to. Please enjoy the rest of your lunch.”

  The Countess glared at her in warning, but Victoria didn’t care. The room began to swirl by the time she walked to the doorway, a crushing pressure settled in her chest. Not knowing where to go, Victoria stumbled down the hall, rounding the corner before opening the door to the library. The servants were busy in the guest rooms today and weren’t scheduled to clean in there until tomorrow. And knowing the Earl’s schedule, he wouldn’t be using the room until evening.

  Not that it matter. She just had to get away. Get away from all the smirking, snickering women.

  Their faces crowded in her mind and she could see what they saw. A young, foolish woman who married a Duke. Outdated, unadorned gowns that were more suited to a country mouse than a duchess, even a dowered one. Her hair was plain, no combs garnished her hair. Her skin was pale, but not fashionably so, more sickly from fatigue. Her figure had lost some of its flesh, making the dress appear shapeless.

  Closing her eyes tight, she sank deep into a chair by the fire. How had she come so low?

  Hearing their taunts and seeing their sneers over again, she tried to cover her ears, tried to block out what they had to say to her, but with no luck.

  Feeling it all crash upon her, a sob escaped her before she could stop it. Trying to smother it with her hand, she startled in horror that it had escaped, before another tumbled out.

  It hurt. It truly did. Why what they said mattered, she didn’t know. They were a bunch of old women far from her home. But it did. Their cutting remarks, their criticism and pleasure at her expense were painful.

  Loneliness settled deep within her, and seemed to explode throughout the rest of her body. She had no one. No friends, no family. No one who cared for her in any way.

  The racking sobs that came next couldn’t be helped. There was no stopping them, no denying them. They came in waves as her body hunched over, her arms wrapping around her waist as if to hold herself together, to protect herself from shattering.

  Was this how others had felt when she cut them down with a few short words? With a tiny rumor spread here or there. Was this the destruction she had caused in others?

  The thought made her physically ill as she fought to control the nausea rising within her. What had she done? Good Lord, what had she done?

  Chapter 7

  “So, the ice princess can cry.” Connor’s lips quirked at the thought. However, when Lady Victoria’s head raised slowly, freshly tracked tears running down her cheeks, the smile faded as quickly as it had come.

  He hadn’t realized she was truly crying. Hadn’t realized that she had been deeply hurt in some way. A part of him actually thought that she wasn’t capable of those feelings. Wasn’t capable of feeling the sting from anything.

  “Go away. I don’t want to speak to you.” She didn’t bother wiping her tears, leaving them to stain her cheeks in all their glory.

  He never felt comfortable w
ith tears, but seeing her broken, he couldn’t leave. He took a step toward her before he even realized what he was doing. “No.” It was said simply. No reasoning, no justification.

  He stepped in front of her, waiting for her to look up at him. Instead, she stood to meet him toe to toe, her body gently brushing against his.

  He sucked in a sharp breath at the contact before cursing his desire. She wasn’t for him. She belonged in London where the glittering parties and balls ruled her life, where she could be ruthless in her pursuit of her next husband. The reminder of her character had him narrowing his eyes slightly, but he couldn’t fully squelch his desire for her.

  Looking up, her eyes were swimming with deep emotion. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to speak with you. And believe me, I am in no mood to take your gloating.” She looked over his shoulder briefly. “I’ve had enough taunting from one Lynwood this day,” she added softly.

  “My mother.” It all made sense now. “What did she say?”

  She shook her head forcefully as her lips pressed tightly together. “Nothing. Her party was lovely.”

  “I see.” And he did. Lady Victoria didn’t have to tell him that his mother had invited her closest friends who would feel no guilt in tormenting Victoria if that was his mother’s wish. “What was said that upset you?” His voice sounded soothing, but his blood began to boil. He thought Victoria deserved anything she got when it came to his mother, them both being contentious, but seeing her hurt, seeing her cry, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Her face scrunched up. “What part of ‘nothing’ do you not understand? I have no wish to speak with you about it. You’ve made your feelings about me perfectly clear.”

  He reached out, gripping her arms. “Tell me what she did to you. I won’t have anyone treated this way in my home.”

  She laughed bitterly. “I see. So what, you’ll go to your mother and tell her to stop bullying me? To stop making fun of how far down I’ve come in the world?”