by Dawn Brower
“Good afternoon, sir,” she said, and though her words were polite he could feel they were shot through with ice. “Have you come to see my husband? I believe he’s in his study.” She turned back to her piano. “Very rude of the staff to let you simply wander about our manor. I shall have a word with them.”
“I already saw Lord Whittemore,” Victor said. “He had to meet with someone and asked if I could see myself out. Then I heard your playing and wanted to come and hear more.”
“I see. Well, no one’s stopping you.” She turned back around and put her fingers on the keys, then began to play. The room was again filled with the rich notes that he’d heard before, and Victor moved closer to her as if he was in a trance. Cordelia didn’t seem to notice him and he stood over her shoulder, close enough to see the pages of sheet music she was reading from. It didn’t surprise him to see that her playing didn’t match what was on the page, but he was impressed that she was working from memory. Cordelia looked over her shoulder and jumped, startled, when she saw how close he was. With a growl of irritation, she slapped her hands on the keys and stood up. “What are you still doing here?”
“You said I could stay and listen.” They were separated by the piano bench but he could feel the anger radiating off Cordelia as she looked at him. “Permit me to be rude for a moment, but why are you so angry at me?”
“If you don’t know the answer, I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell you.” Cordelia snatched the sheet music off the piano and pushed past him. Not even realizing what he was doing until he felt her skin under his hand, Victor reached out and grabbed her upper arm.
“Lady Whittemore---“
“Don’t you touch me,” Cordelia snapped. She jerked her arm away from him, dropping her sheet music in the process. Her cheeks filled with color as she knelt down to scoop it up. “Go,” she said without looking up at him. “Just go. Get out of my house.”
“All right, all right,” Victor said, holding up his hands. “I’ll speak to you about our business when I come back to see your husband.”
“I have no business with you,” Cordelia said, holding her mixed-up stack of sheet music to her chest. “Good day, sir.” She stalked past him, nearly running into Patricia on her way out the door. Cordelia glared at the younger woman for a moment, then turned back to Victor with a dangerous smile. “Please show Mr. Pembroke out, Patricia. If you’re able to find the door, that is.”
As soon as Cordelia was gone, Patricia looked at Victor. Her cheeks were even redder than her mistress’ had been and she was unable to meet Victor’s eyes. For his part, the passion he’d felt for the girl the night before was completely gone. She was still attractive to him but in the light of day he could tell that she was quite a bit younger than he’d thought after a few drinks, and his only interest in her at the moment was her ability to show him to the door.
“May I show you out, sir?”
“No need,” Victor said. “I know the way.” He walked past her, ignoring the crestfallen look on her face, and started down the hallway toward the door. It somehow felt longer than it had the night before and he glanced at the stairs as he opened the door to leave. If Cordelia had gone up them, she was long gone. Victor sighed. This family was more trouble than it was worth.
Chapter 6
“Lady Whittemore, your sister is here to see you.”
“Oh?” Cordelia looked up from the book she was reading, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting her. Please, tell her to come in.” The maid bowed her head slightly and stepped out of the study, leaving Cordelia alone. She hadn’t seen much of Patricia in the week since she’d ordered Victor out of her house and she was halfway convinced that the girl was avoiding her. So much for her being my lady’s maid, she thought. She can’t help me dress if she can’t even look at me.
Cordelia slipped a bookmark between the pages of the novel she was reading and set it aside just as Birdie came through the door. She was followed by a man carrying a large trunk that was almost as big as him and Cordelia stood up.
“Birdie, what on earth have you brought into my house?”
“Mother found them in the attic when she was searching for, well, whatever Mother was looking for this time. I thought you might like to have them.” The man set the trunk on the floor and Birdie smiled at him. “Thank you, Robert. That will be all.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded at Cordelia, then left the sisters alone together in the study.
“You still haven’t said what they are,” Cordelia said as Birdie dropped to her knees in front of the trunk and flipped open the latches.
“Our old dress-up clothes!” Birdie reached into the trunk and pulled out a ratty fur stole and a ball gown that looked like it had seen better days. “Look, it’s Grandmother’s dress! And there’s the pirate costume you used to wear, and the cowgirl hat Father brought back from America.”
“These bring back so many wonderful memories,” Cordelia said, taking the hat from her sister and turning it around with a smile. “My goodness. I can’t believe we ever fit into these things.” She looked down at Birdie. “These are wonderful, darling, but why would you drag them all the way out here? I could have just seen them when I came to visit you.”
“You never come to visit me,” Birdie grumbled. “Besides, I thought you might like to have them. I don’t have any use for them right now with only a boy who’s much too large for them and you have so much more room. There are some baby clothes in there too, in case you have a little girl.”
“I’m not even pregnant yet,” Cordelia said, thinking about how unlikely it was that she was ever going to get pregnant. “What if our first child is a boy?”
“You can just hold onto them until you have a girl, then. If I have a girl, she can come play dress-up with her cousin.” Birdie leaned back over the trunk and Cordelia looked at the hat wistfully. The way things were going, her imaginary niece wouldn’t have anyone to dig through the trunk with, fighting over who got to wear a fairy costume and who got to be the princess. “Oh? What’s this?” Birdie reached into the trunk and pulled something out.
“What is it?” Cordelia leaned over and Birdie held up an intricately worked necklace with ocean blue stones set into it. “Is that Grandmother’s necklace?”
“The one she thought was stolen by that maid who disappeared,” Birdie said, nodding. “I guess we were playing with it and it fell in there.” She handed the necklace to Cordelia. “You should have it, Delia. Grandmother always did like you best.”
“Don’t be silly,” Cordelia said, looking at the necklace in the light. It was a little tarnished but the jewels sparkled in the sun coming through the window. “It’s quite beautiful. We should send it to Mother and see what she wants to do with it.”
“She’ll probably tell you to keep it,” Birdie said, standing up and closing the trunk. “It was no secret that Grandmother loved you more than any of the other girls. She was sure you’d be the one to marry someone high in society, and look at you. Married to a Lord.”
“I suppose.” Cordelia curled her fingers around the necklace. She wanted so badly to tell her sister about Arthur and what she’d caught him doing, but the last thing she needed was for her beloved little sister to look at her with pity in her eyes. “I haven’t seen you since the party, Birdie. Did you enjoy the music?”
“Yours or the phonograph?” Birdie grinned, the freckles sprinkled across her nose making her look even younger. “I’m just joking, Delia. Your playing was wonderful. I wanted to listen to it all night. I can’t believe you’ve gotten so good so quickly.”
“It’s all just coming back to me,” Cordelia said. She gently set the necklace on the table between the two chairs that faced the fireplace. It was too warm for a fire but there was still wood in the hearth. “You’re not the only one to say that, though.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Arthur’s lawyer commented on it as well,” Cordelia said, hoping she sounded casual. Mad though she still was, she
couldn’t stop thinking about him. “Did I introduce you to him?”
“Oh yes, before the dancing began,” Birdie said. She flopped down on the chair beside the table in a very unladylike manner and picked up the necklace. “My, this is pretty. I’m beginning to rethink my giving it to you. Finders keepers and all.”
“If you’d rather have it, by all means do.”
“Don’t be so serious, Delia!” She shook her head, then looked at the necklace as she turned it around. “Mr. Pembroke,” she said thoughtfully. “Mr. Pembroke. I know I heard someone talking about him when I was at the party.”
“Honestly,” Cordelia said with a huff, “you spend far too much time listening to what other people say about each other.” She was fighting with herself about whether or not she should ask Birdie what it was she’d heard about Victor. She didn’t want to appear too interested in him but she also didn’t want her sister to stop talking about him. Thankfully, Birdie was never one to pass up the chance to spread some gossip.
“From what I heard, he has a terrible reputation in society circles. He showed up in town out of nowhere with no family and he’s a real ladies’ man according to the gentleman my husband was talking to. I heard he shows up with a different woman at every party he’s invited to.” Birdie turned her attention to her sister, still toying with the necklace while Cordelia knelt in front of the dress-up trunk. “Who did he bring to your party? I saw him dancing with you but I didn’t see his date.”
“I don’t know that he brought anyone,” Cordelia said, unlatching the trunk and opening it. “We didn’t speak much, to be honest.” She thought of the way he had danced with her, the way he had spun her around and how much fun it had been to let go of her worries for just a moment. “I believe he came late as well.”
“Maybe he had a fight with his date,” Birdie said. “That wouldn’t surprise me if it’s true that he’s got a new one every week. Still, coming to a party late with no date and spending all your time drinking? If he didn’t already have a reputation, he’s getting one now.”
“He’s very good-looking, isn’t he?” She said this while looking into the trunk, hoping that she looked disinterested enough that her sister wouldn’t notice her cheeks had turned red.
“I certainly think so,” Birdie said with a grin. “Those eyes of his are positively breathtaking. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen eyes so blue. If I weren’t married, I don’t think I would mind spending some time with him.”
“Birdie!”
“Well, I would!” She folded her arms over her chest and gave her sister a petulant look. “I wouldn’t turn him away if he wanted to kiss me, that’s for sure.” Cordelia was trying to come up with a response to this when there was a light knock on the door and Mrs. Richmond stuck her head in.
“Good afternoon, ladies. It’s come to my attention that no one has offered you tea, Bridget.” She shot Cordelia a look that clearly said it was her responsibility to have called for tea. “Would you care for some?”
“Okay,” Birdie said with a shrug. “That would be nice.”
“Excellent. I shall have Patricia bring it in with a selection of biscuits.” She left almost soundlessly and Birdie sighed.
“I don’t know how you handle being around her all day, I really don’t. Shouldn’t she have retired by now?” Birdie got up from her chair and went over to one of the bookshelves and started looking at the books.
“You and I both know that will never happen,” Cordelia said, reaching into the trunk and feeling around the corners just in case there were any other hidden treasures lurking at the bottom. “If she passes away in her sleep, her ghost will come to the breakfast table to nag me about leaving the duvet in a mess.” Not finding anything of interest in the trunk, she closed it again and latched it. “Mr. Pembroke has been here an awful lot lately. I hope everything’s going all right with his father’s estate.”
“What could possibly be wrong with it? He’s passed away and Arthur was his only child, everything goes to him. That’s just how it works, right?” One of the books on entomology had found its way into Birdie’s hand and she turned it over.
“I always thought so,” Cordelia said. “But who knows what goes on with men and their affairs. Lord Whittemore was a difficult man, there may have been some sort of problem with the will. Arthur said before that---“ Cordelia clipped off the end of her sentence before she could get the rest of it out, hoping that Birdie hadn’t heard it. Her little sister was busy examining a diagram of a giant beetle and Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t believe what she’d almost said.
“What possesses a person to study bugs their entire life?” Birdie turned the page. “They’re fascinating creatures but there’s only so much one can discover about them.” She looked up at Cordelia. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that last bit.”
“It was nothing,” Cordelia said, shaking her head. “Nothing at all.” The door opened again and Patricia, who had been walking on eggshells around Cordelia since the night of the party, came in with the tea tray. She set it down on the table between the wing chairs, avoiding Cordelia’s eyes as she did, and looked at Birdie.
“I brought petits fours instead of biscuits, ma’am,” she said. “I hope that’s all right.”
“That’s perfect,” Birdie said, snapping the book shut but not putting it back on the shelf. She brought it with her to the chair and wedged it between the cushion and the arm. “I’m going to take this home. I think Walter would really enjoy reading it. Do you think Arthur would mind?”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Cordelia said, watching Patricia arrange the tea with her eyes on the ground. “I don’t know that he ever read the thing. He collects books because he takes interest in a subject, then forgets he ever had them.” Patricia met Cordelia’s eyes for a moment, then hurried for the door. “Oh for heaven’s sake,” Cordelia sighed. She turned to her sister. “Would you excuse me a moment, darling sister? I need to have a word with my staff.”
“Of course,” Birdie said, reaching for the teapot. “I’ll help myself to one of these lovely-looking cakes while you do.”
While Birdie went about picking out her cake, Cordelia went into the hall to look for Patricia. The girl moved quickly, she would give her that. Thinking that she would have likely gone back to the kitchen Cordelia followed that path until she caught up with her just outside the kitchen.
“Patricia,” she said sternly, and the girl flinched. “I would like to speak with you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Patricia said, coming toward her with her head down. “Are you going to dismiss me, ma’am?”
“Of course not,” Cordelia said, trying not to sound as impatient as she felt. “However, we can’t continue the way we have been since the party. I apologize for being short with you and I should have addressed this sooner but---“
“I’m so sorry, Lady Whittemore,” Patricia interrupted. “Mr. Pembroke convinced me to have a drink with him and I completely lost my head! I don’t know what came over me, I promise it won’t happen again! Please don’t dismiss me, my mother would be so ashamed.”
“I’m not going to dismiss you,” Cordelia sighed. “I will ask you to use more discretion in future, though. No more drinking while you’re working, either, no matter what Mr. Pembroke says.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Patricia said, nodding vigorously. “Of course. Thank you, ma’am!” Her smile faltered for a moment and she picked up the edge of the apron she was wearing and fiddled with it. “May I tell you something in confidence?”
“Of course,” Cordelia said with a smile. She really did like the girl, and she was an excellent maid. The last thing she wanted was to lose an excellent worker because she was acting like a jealous schoolgirl over a man she had no right to. “Please feel free.”
“It’s about your husband,” Patricia said quietly, glancing toward the kitchen to make sure no one else was listening. Cordelia’s stomach clenched and she motioned for Patricia to follow her awa
y from the kitchen. They stepped into a side room that was closer to the study and Cordelia closed the door.
“Now, what’s the matter?”
“I was upstairs gathering the bedclothes for the wash and I heard sounds in Lord Whittemore’s room. I assumed it was you and him having a, um, a private moment so I started to hurry off. Then I heard a man’s voice, and it wasn’t Lord Whittemore. And then I saw you down here with your sister and, well, I’m afraid one thing led to another in my mind.” Patricia’s face was even redder than it had been when Cordelia caught her with Victor and she looked away. “I’m sorry if that was indiscreet.”
“Not at all,” Cordelia said, her anger flaring. “You’re not the one who’s been indiscreet. I thank you for coming to me with this, Patricia, and I would appreciate if you didn’t speak of it to anyone else.”
“Oh no, ma’am, not at all!” She looked shocked that Cordelia would even suggest it and her anger at Arthur was tempered slightly by her renewed affection for the girl. “I should get back to the kitchen, ma’am. If there’s anything you need, please call for me.” Patricia hurried out the door and Cordelia went after her, then looked over her shoulder on the way to the study.
“Patricia?” The girl stopped in her tracks and turned back to Cordelia, who smiled at her. “How would you like to learn to become my lady’s maid?”
“I’d like that very much!” Patricia’s face shone with joy and Cordelia laughed.
“All right, then. Speak to Mrs. Richmond at once and she’ll make the arrangements. I must return to my sister.” She turned and went back to the study, her blood boiling as she did. If it weren’t for the fact that Birdie was waiting for her to return and have tea she would have marched upstairs immediately and told him exactly what she thought of him.
When she opened the door to the study, however, Birdie was already finishing the last of her tea as she stood over the tray. The book on insects was cradled in her arm and her gloves were on. She set the teacup down and turned to her sister.