Mischief and Manors

by Ashtyn Newbold

  “Your nostrils flare as soon as you finish speaking.”

  “They do not!”

  He threw his head back with a laugh. “You wanted me to tell you, so I told you. I find it very adorable, actually.” He winked at me in a way that I could only interpret as flirtatious.

  I shot him a look of consternation and looked away from his charming smile. “Well, in that case, I will try never to do it again.”

  He laughed again then looked at me seriously. “Now, you must answer my question honestly. What do you have against the color?”

  I swallowed and wiped my sweaty palms on the skirt of my gown. These sort of things hurt to speak about. I think that was what was making me so nervous. I didn’t like to feel the pains of past losses that I had so carefully tucked away. I took a deep breath to begin.

  “When I was a little girl, I adored pink. I made sure to wear it every day. Whether as my dress, gloves, boots, the trim on my bonnet, or a bow in my hair.” I glanced up at Owen to see his reaction. He looked mildly surprised, but deeply interested.

  “I wanted to surprise my mother when she returned from her visit here, so I wore her favorite pink dress of mine. And when she didn’t return to see it … ” I looked down, suddenly feeling very self conscious. “I don’t know, I suppose the color just wasn’t so pretty anymore. Nothing was pretty anymore. The color transformed in my eyes to something that meant hurt, and disappointment, and that my mother wasn’t coming back. And I hated it for that.”

  I felt a lump in my throat again and I found myself wishing that Owen would just laugh at me. Then I could be angry instead of sad. I was waiting for him to say something, but he seemed to be waiting for me to look at him. I laughed softly at myself. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

  I peeked up at his face. But I didn’t see amusement or even a smile in his eyes. I saw solemn understanding and the same warmth I had seen so many times now. Except it didn’t surprise me anymore. “No, I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all,” he said.

  I took a breath as relief flooded through me. He understood. And he didn’t look at me with pity either. He never did. I gave him a small grateful smile that he returned.

  “I’m sorry for insisting that you take that pink rose. I wouldn’t have, had I known how much it hurt you.”

  I brushed off his words. “The rose is just fine. I … I like it now.” I smiled up at him reassuringly, and gasped.

  He was staring at my nose.

  “Owen!” I quickly used my hand to cover it. “I am not lying!”

  He tipped his head back in a roar of laughter. “I’m sorry, but I had to be sure.”

  A

  Chapter 10

  Grandmother was rambling on about Peter’s and Charles’s compliments with undying ecstasy at dinner.

  “He told me I had beautiful hair! Oh, my, I haven’t been told my hair was beautiful since it turned grey over twenty years ago! And little Charles kissed my hand! Can you believe it?” She paused to release a hoot of laughter. “I am flattered, to be sure!”

  Owen winked at the boys and whispered, “Well done.”

  After the men joined us in the drawing room, I listened as Grandfather told us of the events of his day, and to my surprise, he stood and performed a song while Mrs. Kellaway played the pianoforte. His voice came out gruffer in song, and was not, I must admit, the most pleasant sound. Owen and I locked eyes in the middle of his performance and the laughter I had been harnessing suddenly threatened to break loose. I had to bite my lip to keep it at bay. Owen’s mouth was clamped shut, but his eyes pooled with tears and his shoulders shook.

  After the agony of Grandfather’s performance, Mrs. Kellaway cleared her throat and asked for everybody’s attention. Once all eyes were on her, she began, “I have decided, soon after Alice, Edmond, and my husband arrive, we are going to host a ball! Won’t that be splendid? It has been far too long since we have, and I believe it is long overdue. And, of course, we have Miss Annette staying with us, and what better way to celebrate than to introduce her to all the unmarried gentlemen in town? She can dance with each one, all night!”

  My stomach lurched with a sudden surge of panic. I had never had a season, and had certainly never been to a ball. Before moving to Oak Cottage, my parents had employed a dance instructor, but I doubted I would remember many of the steps. Most of my practicing came from my father. Country dances in the sitting room had been prevalent in our house. I smiled a little at the memory.

  “Yes, yes, yes! Perfect idea, Catherine!” Grandmother yelped giddily. “What was the name of the gentleman we met at the Thornton’s ball last year? Oh, yes, Mr. Baines! He is a handsome gentleman if I ever saw one, and so agreeable! We must introduce him to Miss Downing! He will be proposing marriage before he even finishes one dance.” She was so giddy by now, that she was rubbing her hands together with excitement. Then her eyes widened to an impossible size. “Unless, of course, all the other gentlemen duel Mr. Baines before he has the chance! My, my, wouldn’t that be a sight to behold?”

  My face burned. I forced a small laugh. “I certainly cannot imagine that happening.”

  Grandmother gave me a sneaky look and glanced over my shoulder. “Why ever not? It seems we already have one gentleman prepared for that very duel.” She threw her head back and released a hooting laugh. With a curious look I followed her gaze over my shoulder. I was so taken back by what I saw that all I could do was stare. Owen’s eyes were narrowed and his mouth was set hard and firm. A muscle leapt in his clenched jaw.

  “Will it be swords or pistols, Owen? You could, of course, resort to fisticuffs if the situation becomes dire.” Grandmother could barely be understood through her laughter.

  I quickly whirled back around, flustered and embarrassed beyond words. What did she mean? Owen wouldn’t care if her ridiculous scenario happened (which it wouldn’t, I was sure of it). My cheeks burned hotter as I wondered if it was possible that Owen might care. He had been spending a significant amount of time with me, and something told me it wasn’t just for my brothers. And then there was the flirting …

  I shushed my thoughts, too afraid to acknowledge what they meant. Grandmother was still hooting, but the rest of the room was filled with an awkwardness that was so centered around me that I needed to leave. Now. As much as I tried to prevent it, my voice came out shaky when I said, “Charles, Peter, I think it is time I take you to bed.”

  I stood from my chair and thankfully, as if he were playing along, Charles yawned as I took his hand. “Please excuse us.” I couldn’t pull them to the door fast enough.

  Against my will, my curiosity forced me to peek at Owen again just as I was leaving the room. He was watching me with a look so foreign to me that I didn’t know what to think of it. But it was also familiar somehow. My gaze froze on that look until I placed it: It was the same way he had looked at me in the water gardens today after he caught me—when I had thought about kissing him. I hurried through the door, shaking my head in an effort to clear it. I must be imagining things now.

  I tucked my brothers into their beds and walked swiftly down the hall to my own bedchamber where I plopped down on my bed, exhausted, confused, and completely terrified. I had never been to a ball! I hardly knew how to dance! How could I go to a ball without knowing how to dance? The very thought was ridiculous, and the image even more so. I didn’t know what Owen’s unnerving look meant, but I didn’t want to think about that at the moment.

  It is all in your imagination, I told myself. But I felt something poking within me, sharp and insistent, trying to convince me that it wasn’t my imagination at all. But that “something” had to be wrong. Didn’t it?

  I couldn’t think clearly any longer. The dull pain in my head had now buzzed into a full, throbbing headache, and I was afraid my skull would burst from an overdose of thought. So I settled into my nightdress, blew out the candles, and drifted into a restless sleep, unable to answer even my own questions.

  A

  On
my way to breakfast, I passed Lizzie in the hall, and seeing her reminded me that I had forgotten to tell Owen about the strange man yesterday. How had I forgotten such an important thing? I noted that I would certainly tell him today. But I worried that everything would be awkward between us after what Grandmother had said the previous night. I felt terrible about how I had left in such a hurry, but the embarrassment of the situation still burned my cheeks at the thought.

  I flashed Lizzie a smile as I passed her. “Good morning.”

  She smiled back, but I could tell it was forced. Whatever that strange man had said to her was still troubling her immensely. When I had first met Lizzie, it had seemed impossible that she could ever appear so upset.

  I sat down beside Peter and Charles in the dining room and searched for Owen at the table. As usual, he wasn’t there.

  Mrs. Kellaway greeted me with a warm smile. “I trust you slept well?”

  “I did, thank you.”

  She leaned forward across the table. “Now, I would like to speak with you a bit more about the ball. My daughter, my son, and my husband will be returning three days from today, and I would like to hold the ball four days after their arrival, so they have sufficient time to settle in. I sent the invitations a fortnight ago, so everything seems to be in order.”

  I looked down at my plate and my stomach pooled with dread. The ball was a week away. “I don’t have a suitable gown, so perhaps I could just stay in my room with my brothers.”

  She threw out her hand. “Not a problem. We will take you to Madame Fareweather to have a gown made for you. I have seen miracles worked by her hands before. She will have a beautiful gown finished, boxed, and delivered by the day of the ball. I am sure of it.”

  “I think that is a perfect idea, Catherine,” Grandmother piped in from across the table.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Aunt Ruth had finally succumbed to purchasing a small number of inexpensive gowns for me when securing the buttons on my old gowns had become nearly impossible. But there was no sense in hoping that she would find it in her heart to send a portion of her money to Kellaway Manor to purchase a ball gown for me. And I certainly didn’t have money to spend on such a fine thing.

  I swallowed and looked down at my plate. “I can’t afford a gown.”

  “I will provide the funds, not to worry,” Mrs. Kellaway said.

  I shook my head. “No, I—”

  “Yes. We shall leave in one hour. Did you have anything else planned?”

  These women were relentless. I sighed. Besides telling Owen about the strange man, nothing came to mind. “No.”

  “Wonderful!” she exclaimed almost as giddily as her mother. “One hour it is.”

  “That sounds perfect,” I said, forcing myself to accept their kindness despite the struggle within me. A ride to the nearby village did sound very nice, and I had never worn a ball gown before. The thought caused a ripple of excitement to fly through me.

  Grandfather looked up from his plate. I had almost forgotten he was there. “I’ll take care of the boys while you are gone,” he volunteered.

  I smiled at him. “That is very kind of you.” Then I cast Peter and Charles each a sideways glance. “Be on your best behavior.”

  “We will!” Peter vowed. “I’ve been practicing Grandfather’s trick very much, so I can show him how I’ve improved!”

  I laughed as I remembered Grandfather’s invisible needle and thread. “I’m sure Grandfather would love to see it.”

  “I most certainly would,” he confirmed with a smile.

  After I finished eating, I hurried to my room to make myself somewhat presentable. My hair was being uncooperative as usual, so I combed through it and pulled it back into a bun of sorts. It was the best I could do. Just as I was about to leave my bedchamber, the door swung open and Lizzie walked in, avoiding my eyes as best she could. “May I offer assistance?”

  I studied her for a moment. She was fiddling with the fabric of her apron and seemed to be extremely nervous. My hair did look absurd, and if Lizzie was to begin arranging it for me, I could offer a gentle inquiry about the strange man. Hopefully I could discover more about what he was doing here.

  “Well, I could certainly use some assistance with this mess.” I pointed at my head. “If you would be so kind.”

  She looked shocked that I had asked, but nodded sharply. “Y-yes, of course, miss.” Her usual cheerful smile was missing.

  I took a seat in front of the mirror and Lizzie stepped behind me with a hairbrush and pins, setting to work methodically on my hair. I could feel her hands shaking. I watched her carefully in the mirror, trying to decide the best moment to speak. But she worked in consistent silence, brushing and pinning, and never taking even a second to glance up. This was so unlike her.

  Deciding any time was as good as another, in a careful voice, I said, “Lizzie, I do not want you to be in danger.” The hairbrush froze on my head and her eyes flew up to meet mine in the mirror. “Please tell me what that man wanted from you.”

  She looked down again, and I could tell my words had upset her even more. “Can we please not speak about this?” Her voice shook.

  “No. I need to know what he was doing here. You were accosted by a stranger. That is no small thing. I haven’t informed anyone of it yet, but I will unless you tell me what he said to you.” I held her gaze in the mirror.

  She swallowed and her chin started quivering. She was silent for a long moment, and I started wondering if she had even heard me. Finally she said, “I am sorry, miss. I can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “He made it quite clear.” A tear slid down her cheek. She quickly swiped it away.

  Dread filled my stomach. “Did he threaten you?”

  Little sniffs and whimpers were the only response I received. It was enough to know the answer. I lowered my voice and made it as gentle as I could. “Lizzie, you will be safe. I will tell Owen, and—”

  “No! No. Please don’t tell Dr. Kellaway. Please.”

  “I must. If this man really threatened you, he needs to know. Mrs. Kellaway should also be told. They will be able to help you.”

  She was silent for a long moment, shaking her head and wiping her tears. Finally she said, “He wanted information. But I didn’t give it to him. I beg you, please don’t tell anyone.”

  I sighed, torn about what I should do. What information did he want? As much as I scoured my mind for ideas, I came up blank. I decided to pry a little further. “Will you tell me what information he asked for?”

  She took a deep, quaking breath, then started on my hair again. Her hands still shook, but her tears and sobs were gone. “No, I can’t. But will you give me your word that you won’t tell anyone about this?”

  “On the condition that you inform me if he returns.”

  She considered my offer with a faint look of fear in her eyes. “I promise.”

  I didn’t know why I was doing this, but I knew Lizzie would be stricken dead with betrayal if I told a soul. I didn’t know why that was so either. But it frightened me to see such raw fear in her eyes. So I said, “Then I promise too.”

  Her face flashed with relief and she finished my hair, pinning and brushing until it looked as it had my first day here. I almost thought she would cheer up again, and that she would be the same as she had always been. But as I watched her reflection in the mirror, I could see fear ease back into her eyes and affect the way she held her head, the way her words shook, and the way her gaze scattered.

  I thanked her for her help and stood from my chair. Then Lizzie gave a stiff nod and hurried toward the door. I walked over to my trunk to find a gown, and was facing away from the door when I heard her, in a voice as quiet as a whisper.

  “I wasn’t the only one he threatened.”

  Chills raced up my neck and arms and I whipped around as fast as I could. But Lizzie was already through the door.

  I rubbed my arms to hopefully stop the chill I felt. Dread
pooled in my stomach and made my chest feel tight and constrained. Did she mean me? I dismissed the thought as quickly as I could. I didn’t even know that man, what possible reason could he have to threaten me? I tried to shake off the tremor that was coursing through my limbs. What had I done? I had agreed not to share this with anyone, and now there could be multiple people in danger! I pressed a hand to my forehead, feeling my headache returning. I needed time to relax and think, but I was leaving to visit the dressmaker soon, and something told me that that would not be relaxing at all.

  A

  Chapter 11

  In the carriage, I sat next to the window with Mrs. Kellaway beside me and Grandmother across from me. It was a short drive to the village, and Grandmother had gone into raptures over how quaint and darling it was. While she spoke, she nearly bounced in her seat. Her eyes, of course, were as wide as saucers. I had certainly never seen a woman of her age so full of life.

  “Are you excited, my dear?” she asked.

  “Very much,” I said with a smile I didn’t feel. My thoughts were still caught on Lizzie and what she had revealed to me. I gazed out the window, seeking something to distract me from my worries. A distant estate caught my eye and triggered something in my mind. I had seen it somewhere before. I stared at it until it was nearly out of view. Tall and wide, the stretching lawn and hexagonal pond, the beauty of the gardens and the rolling hills around it—it had to be Willowbourne! Owen had said it was nearby.

  To be sure, I tapped Mrs. Kellaway on the arm. “What is the name of that house?”

  She squinted out the window. “Oh, that is Willowbourne. Isn’t it lovely? My sister and her young daughters are in residence.”

  I took another glance out the window. Lovely didn’t even begin to describe it. The sketch Owen’s uncle had done did nothing but injustices to its perfect architecture and colorful gardens. The way it was built on the peak of a hill made it stand like a grand castle and emulate beauty in every sense of the word. I wanted to go inside. How had Owen condemned visiting a place like that? “It’s breathtaking,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve been inside?”