by Gayle Callen
“Surely the men you’ve met since you’ve been back in London have been kind,” Victoria ventured hesitantly.
“Of course. And because of your husband generously insisting that I accept a dowry from him, I’ve even had two marriage proposals.”
Her sisters gasped but held their silence.
“But I couldn’t seriously consider them. I didn’t love them, and I knew it was only the money they were after.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Victoria asked softly.
“Because I’m embarrassed!” she said, getting to her feet and beginning to pace. The cold stone bench had made her body as numb her heart had been feeling. “They wanted me for the dowry money, but I was once just like them. I thought money was important to my happiness, too. And then when Papa died—”
“Killed himself,” Meriel said sadly. “We can’t let ourselves forget what he—”
“Do you think we can forget?” Louisa cried in a soft voice, whirling to face them. They stared at her in shock, but she could no longer hide from them. “His death changed everything about each of us, and I didn’t like what was revealed about me. I had thought Society was all that mattered. I loved having women friends and male admirers, and the dinners and balls that went along with all of it. When the money and the friends went away, I realized how shallow it all was, that I only truly had my family.”
When Victoria tried to hide the fact that she was wiping away tears, Louisa groaned. She didn’t dare tell her sister that she’d even felt in the way of her new marriage.
“Now you see why I didn’t talk to you both about this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I didn’t want to hurt you. I only know that when I was helping Lady Ralston and her granddaughter, I found the first true peace I’d ever known. I had a purpose, and I don’t have one here. I sometimes feel so old, so useless.”
They enfolded her in hugs, and she welcomed their comfort.
“Trust me,” Victoria whispered in her ear. “You’ll meet a good man and everything will make sense again. You’ll find a wonderful purpose—love and starting your own family.”
“But maybe I won’t,” Louisa said, drawing away from them. “Or maybe that’s not all I want. I just need…something, and I came close to finding it at Lady Ralston’s.”
“So you think becoming a companion again will help you find the peace you’re missing,” Victoria began slowly.
Louisa shrugged. “Maybe. I just know I have to do something, or remain miserable.”
“You do know the tragedy that befell Lady Wade’s grandson, my husband’s dear friend Simon?”
Louisa gasped, even as his handsome face appeared in her mind. “I have been wallowing in self-pity so much that I’d forgotten. I’m going on about my own insignificant problems, when that poor man lost his sight. When I try to imagine myself in his position, how much everything would change, how people must treat him…I am overcome with sadness and horror.”
“Do you know what they call him?” Meriel asked, shaking her head. “The Blind Baron.”
“How cruel!” Louisa murmured, her thoughts beginning to coalesce. Yet she suddenly frowned at her sister. ”Baron?”
“It’s his lesser title. And your problems are not insignificant!” Meriel added indignantly. “But you need to make an objective decision. Lord Wade is living with his grandmother, your prospective employer.”
“He is such a kind man,” Louisa said thoughtfully. “And he used to be so lively in Society.”
“I used to think him a lot like you,” Victoria said. “He knew everyone, and had friends everywhere.”
Louisa frowned.
“David and I visited him before he left London, and he was trying to act like he could go on just fine.”
“Was he really?” Louisa asked, shocked and impressed. “That is true courage. Even the disfigurement alone—”
“He’s not disfigured in any way, unless you count a scar on one temple. His bruises have surely faded. He is as handsome as ever. But he wouldn’t accept our invitations. I think he didn’t want to be pitied.”
“That is understandable. He must be led about like a child. Even something as simple as eating—do you think he has to be fed by someone else?”
Both Victoria and Meriel looked stricken and sad.
“He must be terribly depressed,” Louisa said. She remembered his easy grin, the way he made every woman feel at ease and charmed. He had a shock of blond hair that occasionally fell over his forehead, and the deepest dimples when he smiled. She couldn’t imagine his laughing green eyes vacant.
“He doesn’t act depressed at all,” Victoria said. “Resigned yes, but still struggling to be cheerful. I think he’s very brave.”
Louisa couldn’t help her curiosity. How had such a joyful man changed? Their home must be full of sadness after such a tragedy. Was that why his grandmother needed a companion, someone to lift her spirits?
And what about Lord Wade himself? Louisa remembered the way he’d helped Victoria fit into her husband’s world. Victoria had hosted a reception to discuss the arts, and Lord Wade had made it a success by bringing all his eligible friends. He was a man who enjoyed helping people. Who was helping him?
Meriel rolled her eyes. “So do you need help packing your bags?”
Louisa slowly began to smile.
Chapter 2
Enfield Manor was a pretty little mansion in the country just north of London. Louisa waited in the entrance hall, her reticule in her hand, and felt more nervous than she’d thought she would. She didn’t know what she’d expected—black crepe hung from the door as if someone had died? But the butler greeted her with civility, and the occasional servant who wandered by had nodded pleasantly.
But still her unease remained. She reminded herself that she wasn’t desperate for the salary. If this didn’t work out, she had a home to return to, even if it was her sister’s.
But she didn’t want this employment to fail as her last had. Her memories were overshadowed with the guilt of having abandoned an elderly, bedridden lady. Through correspondence with the granddaughter, Louisa knew that someone kind had taken her place as a companion, and she consoled herself with that.
But she realized that she was becoming far too familiar with guilt. What had happened to her excitement about being useful, about seeing Lord Wade again?
She straightened her shoulders and waited for the housekeeper. She fully expected to be shown to her room and introduced to her employer at another time. Then a smiling older woman dressed in black with a white lace cap perched on her head entered the hall.
“Miss Shelby?” the woman said. When Louisa nodded, she continued, “I am Mrs. Calbert, the housekeeper. Welcome to Enfield Manor. I know you must be tired—”
“It wasn’t a very long journey by train,” Louisa said, smiling.
“Goodness, of course. I haven’t managed to ride one yet. They seem so loud. Do you need to rest, or would you like to meet the family? They are gathered in the drawing room for the afternoon.”
The family? Louisa opened her mouth, unsure how to reply. Was Lord Wade there? And she had just come in from the rain; the cloak over her arm still dripped, and her shoes—
“You look fine,” Mrs. Calbert said, as if reading her mind. “I’ll take your cloak and bonnet and show you in.”
Louisa found herself swept up in the older woman’s orderly speed. She trailed her through the hall, and then down a long corridor lined with Greek statues that stood on guard.
When they reached the threshold of an open doorway, Mrs. Calbert curtsied and said, “Miss Louisa Shelby.”
She stepped back to allow Louisa to proceed her into a drawing room decorated in the warm colors of green and cream. Tall windows with sheer curtains before them let in the last gray light of the misty afternoon. But except for a few pieces of furniture and the paintings on the wall, the room was strangely bare of the decorative items a woman usually collected. No carpets covered the marble floor wher
e the sofa and chairs were grouped.
Two ladies rose as she entered, both of them lowering their embroidery hoops to stare at her frankly.
To her disappointment, Lord Wade was not in attendance.
Louisa did not usually mind being stared at. Although she was not vain about her appearance, she knew that her features were never found wanting. But for some reason, she felt nervous about their stares, as if she had to pass a test—a test she wanted to pass, she realized with determination.
The dowager viscountess was a small, trim woman whose white hair was pulled back simply from her face. She had risen easily, belying her age. Her skin was lined with her years, but she smiled at Louisa in so friendly a way that Louisa could only smile back as she curtsied.
“I am Lady Wade, Miss Shelby. This is my granddaughter, Miss Georgiana Wade.”
Louisa and Miss Wade curtsied to one another. The girl was plump and attractive, but without great beauty. Her gown was an…unusual shade of purple. It clashed with her skin, and made her figure less appealing than it could be. Her hair color was somewhere between blond and brown, and her eyes were the same green as her brother’s. As Miss Wade began to smile, the family dimples winked in her cheeks. She seemed like a good-natured young lady who would not abandon her grandmother to loneliness. So why would Lady Wade need a companion? Unless the granddaughter was only visiting briefly.
“It is so good of you to accept my offer of employment, Miss Shelby,” Lady Wade said.
“It was kind of you to ask me, my lady.”
“You received Lady Ralston’s highest recommendation.”
Louisa dipped her head. “That is generous of her,” she said softly. “Is she still as I left her last year?”
“She is still confined to her bed, poor dear. But her letters, though dictated to her companion now, are as lively as ever.”
“And her granddaughter is well?”
“Happily married, and it’s thanks to you, from what I understand.” Lady Wade glanced at her own granddaughter.
Miss Wade inhaled deeply, her expression full of forbearance, but said nothing.
“Miss Ralston attracted her husband through her own good nature,” Louisa said smoothly. “I but coaxed her into showing the world. She was needlessly worried about her first Season.”
She thought she heard Miss Wade mumble, “Needlessly?”
Lady Wade heaved a sigh and smiled at Louisa once again. “Do sit down, Miss Shelby. I’ve rung for refreshments, and while we wait you can tell us about yourself. You have sisters, if I remember correctly.”
“I do, my lady. My eldest sister Victoria is newly the Viscountess Thurlow, and my youngest sister Meriel is now Mrs. Richard O’Neill.”
“Ah yes, Mr. O’Neill is the young duke of Thanet’s uncle and guardian. I understand he saved the little boy’s life.”
“He did, my lady, although he will hear no praise for his actions.”
“You’ll have to tell me the story someday. Your parents are well?”
This was the part Louisa hated—lying to people. But she and her sisters had sworn an oath to their hysterical mother to tell no one that their father had died by his own hand. Mama had wanted him buried in the church graveyard, his memory unsullied. “My mother is well, my lady, but my father passed on two years ago.”
“I am sorry. I have lived long enough to accept that death will take us all one day.”
“You are not old, Grandmama,” Miss Wade spoke aloud for the first time. “Death doesn’t even know where you live yet.”
Lady Wade laughed. “Ah, Georgie my child, you amuse me.”
Louisa smiled at Miss Wade, who blushed now as if she regretted her words. She bent her head over her embroidery again.
“And what are your accomplishments, Miss Shelby?” Lady Wade asked. “I’m always impressed by the talent of young ladies today.”
“I, too, enjoy embroidery, my lady. I love to read and paint, and I’m told my speaking voice is pleasant, so whenever you’d like me to read to you…”
“Of course, of course. Do you play the piano and sing?”
Before Louisa could answer, Miss Wade gave a little gasp, then put her finger in her mouth as if she’d stabbed it with her needle. She glanced with a frown at her grandmother. Lady Wade continued to smile pleasantly, ignoring her granddaughter.
Louisa just blinked and smiled. “Ah, yes, I do sing and play, although my sister, Victoria, is the true musical talent in our family.”
“Grandmama,” Miss Wade said tightly, “did you forget that our piano is broken?”
“I had it repaired.”
Miss Wade bit her lip and didn’t reply. Louisa tried not to stare between the two of them with all the curiosity she felt. They didn’t seem upset with each other, but the tension was palpable. Perhaps Miss Wade had not wanted her grandmother to hire a companion? Yet her smile had been so welcoming.
“My penmanship is perfectly legible,” Louisa continued, “so I am able to write letters for you. And I enjoy traveling, and would accompany you anywhere—”
“Oh, I won’t be traveling any time soon,” Lady Wade said with a wave of her hand, “except through the surrounding countryside, of course. I have many friends I regularly visit.”
Louisa frowned even as Miss Wade rolled her eyes. It sounded less and less as if Lady Wade was a lonely woman in need of companionship. Or perhaps she was realizing a frailty that she still couldn’t admit to herself—or her family. Growing old must be difficult when one is strong.
“What will my duties be, my lady?” Louisa asked.
“Nothing very strenuous,” said Lady Wade. “I will require your companionship for several hours in the morning and the afternoon, but you will always have time for yourself each day. Right now you can learn my schedule at a slow pace, since once my grandchildren leave, I’ll surely occupy more of your time.”
“I don’t need to leave you, Grandmama,” Miss Wade insisted.
“Someday you’ll have a home of your own, my dear.”
To Louisa’s surprise, Miss Wade’s hopeful expression soon faded.
A bewigged and liveried footman knocked and entered the room. “Lord Wade,” he announced solemnly.
Louisa felt a rush of nervousness and curiosity as she rose to her feet with the other ladies. She had not seen Lord Wade since before his accident, and she wondered how much he had changed. She was prepared for a man in a state of disarray, sad, even lost.
She heard his voice, deep and amused, before she saw him.
“Bernard, I keep telling you that you don’t have to introduce me to my own grandmother. She knows who I am.”
Miss Wade giggled, Lady Wade smiled fondly, and Lord Wade entered the room, his hand on the shoulder of a plainly dressed man. He certainly didn’t sound sad and lost, Louisa thought with relief.
Then she swallowed heavily, as the sight of him swamped her with memories and sensations from another time. She had always thought him a handsome man; whenever he had walked into a room, her gaze had been drawn to him. But unlike other handsome men, Lord Wade had always seemed like so much more. His humor and charm had been there on his open face, and she was gratified to see them still there.
And confused, too, because her reaction to him was still so very physical. She experienced a breathlessness that made her want to inhale too deeply, and suddenly the room seemed far too warm.
He wasn’t limping, so the cane he carried must be an aid for his blindness. He was still so tall, so very fine of figure, wide through the shoulders where a man should be. He was elegantly dressed, but she should not be surprised at that, when he certainly had the services of a good valet. He seemed in robust health, instead of a man who must have lain abed a long while recovering. His wavy blond hair, cut shorter than the last time she’d seen him, shone in the light that filtered through the delicate curtains. He had a long, straight nose, and cheekbones that were rugged above the deep dimples in his cheeks.
But his eyes—his be
autiful, green eyes, as colorful as the depths of a forest, were blank, vacant.
“Good afternoon, Simon,” Lady Wade said.
When his grandmother greeted him, he looked straight at her, as if he could see.
Of course he would turn his head, Louisa told herself. He could hear where his grandmother was. Or perhaps that was even her favorite chair.
“Grandmama, it’s always good to see you,” he said, as his servant guided him nearer.
He had made a joke of his condition, Louisa thought with relief. He had always been a man who could enliven a situation with humor. She was glad that that had not changed.
Lady Wade swatted his arm playfully. “If you could but see the wrinkles on my face, dear Simon.”
“Come give me a kiss,” he said. “I’m sure I won’t notice a thing.”
When the servant halted, Lord Wade bent his head so that his tiny grandmother could kiss his cheek.
“And is Georgie here, too?” he asked, turning his head as if he scanned the room looking for her.
It felt strange for his eyes to pass right over Louisa as if she weren’t there. And to him, she wasn’t. Oh dear, shouldn’t she be introduced? The servant’s eyes widened upon her, but he only turned his head away. It wasn’t his place. He waited in silence, his master’s hand still on his shoulder.
“Of course I’m here,” Georgie said. “When you don’t need me in the afternoons, I’m always doing needlework with Grandmama.”
Lady Wade gave a delicate snort. “Georgie my child, you need to be out and about, visiting friends and meeting new people. That’s why I’ve hired Miss Shelby.”
Louisa opened her mouth to say hello, but Lord Wade spoke before she could.
“You’ve hired a secretary?”
“No, a companion. I am getting on in years, you know.”
He shook his head in bemusement. “That is the most foolish thing you’ve ever said. Your social calendar staggers me. You are the least lonely person I know. So what is your real motive?”