The Gray Chamber

by Grace Hitchcock

  Strolling around the other guests’ arriving carriages, he nodded to the doorman and handed his black umbrella, top hat, and coat to the young butler who stood just inside the marble foyer. Sounds of laughter flowed out of the front parlor followed by the clinking of glasses when Edyth flew around the corner in the most outlandish blue-and-green plaid dress he had ever beheld. While he didn’t mingle too much with his set anymore, he knew most women chose to wear more demure gowns. This tartan was something new altogether. Bane’s gaze went to her hair and he saw that she was trying something different with her coiffure, but the curls, which he assumed she had attempted to tame, had become quite frizzled.

  “You’re here! I’ve been watching for you,” she breathed, snatching his hand in hers before remembering herself and dropping it and executing a perfect curtsy.

  “Of course I am here. You begged me to attend. What kind of teacher would I be if I disappointed the one student who has attended every single one of the fencing club’s expositions, demonstrations, and whatnot?” His little friend was nothing if not supportive of his fencing school, but he did not wish to tell her how much it meant to him, lest more invitations follow now that the Parisian stepcousin had come to the city.

  “Your hair looks dashing pulled back into a queue, Bane.” She reached out and brushed off his coat, her fingertips lingering for a second, then two before she folded her hands in front of her skirts.

  “Thank you. And you look …” He motioned to her attire and settled with, “Uh, very clean.”

  She rolled her eyes and smirked. “Thank you. I am certain it took a lot out of you to give me such a lovely compliment.” She flipped her hand, beckoning him. “Come, let me introduce you to my new cousin. She is every bit as fashionable as a young lady returning from Paris should be.” Edyth threaded her hand around Bane’s elbow and pulled him through the french doors into the gilded parlor where he spied a regal creature with an hourglass figure and blond hair curled to perfection, dressed in a heavenly gown of white with a low neckline trimmed with pink roses. His mouth gaped as his gaze rested on her picturesque rosy cheeks and laughing eyes of blue.

  Edyth paused in front of the lady, who was a good six inches taller than her. “Bane, this is my cousin, Lavinia Birch. Miss Birch, I would like you to meet my fencing instructor and dear friend, Mr. Raoul Banebridge, or Bane as he prefers, since he claims Raoul is a name for a dandy.”

  “And Bane is a much more intimidating name for a fencing master,” he added, bowing to the beauty. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  With a pretty smile, she extended her hand. “The honor is all mine, sir. In the few hours I’ve been here, Cousin Edyth has told me much about you.”

  Bane fumbled for an answer as he lightly kissed her surprisingly large gloved hand, but thankfully, she continued. “And in order to get to know my new cousin better, I thought, what better way than to have her closest friend as my dinner partner to tell me all about our dear Edyth?”

  Bane disliked leaving Edyth in the lurch, but he couldn’t refuse an invitation to sit with the guest of honor, nor did he wish to refuse. He looked to his friend and cleared his throat. “If Miss Foster is agreeable?”

  Edyth’s smile faltered for a moment before she sent Lavinia a confident nod. “Of course. You’ll get along famously. Bane has always managed to capture my attention.” Her cheeks tinted. “I—I mean, oh, never mind. Go along, and I will make certain the dinner cards are rearranged accordingly.” She darted away without another word.

  Bane assumed his place beside Miss Birch, who turned to him with an expectant smile. Any thought of making conversation fled with the parting of those full lips into a smile, which was now beginning to falter with his silence. But thankfully, Edyth returned from instructing the butler and, true to her nature, she filled the gaps in conversation with questions and laughter.

  Just as the dining room doors were being opened for dinner, three gentlemen that he did not recognize joined their party, two of middling age with short, pointed beards, and the third, a clean-shaven red-haired man who appeared to be around Bane’s own age. Mr. Foster greeted them and nodded toward Bane’s corner of the room. He felt Miss Birch’s attention drawn to the young man, her obvious interest in him causing Bane to turn to her.

  “So, tell me about your time in Paris, Miss Birch. How long were you there?”

  “For four years.” Her gaze flitted back toward the young man.

  “It must have been quite lovely to keep you for so long,” he ventured, hoping to pull her attention from the fellow.

  “Quite.” She replied without looking at him as the gentleman approached her and bowed, sending her fan to flapping and Bane to realizing how quickly he could be forgotten.

  Edyth couldn’t stop herself from noticing Lavinia and Bane waltzing onto the floor yet again while Bane had failed to ask her even one time to dance. She sighed and attempted to keep time with her current ancient partner. Well, the night is young. And Lavinia did ask Bane to take care of her. She swallowed back her growing resentment toward her cousin, determined to give Lavinia the benefit of the doubt.

  “Miss Foster?”

  She blinked and returned her notice to her own partner, a middle-aged gentleman with a well-groomed graying beard. “I am so sorry, what was your question, Mister …?”

  “Doctor Wentworth,” he replied, blinking in return as if it were obvious.

  Edyth murmured his name and earned a scowl, but she had a tendency to forget names as soon as she heard them if she did not repeat them back at once, a practice no one seemed to appreciate.

  He cleared his throat. “I was saying that I spoke with your uncle earlier today and he mentioned that you enjoyed a rather peculiar hobby.”

  “There is nothing peculiar about painting. My father was quite the artist, and I hope one day to have my own work displayed,” she replied, praying her uncle had not spoken of her fencing. While she adored the sport, she greatly disliked it when others questioned her, for no good came from their judgment, and unfortunately, she was usually moved to respond in kind. She feared she would never learn to control her tongue as long as others did not extend her the same courtesy.

  “Of course not. Painting is a most appropriate pastime for a woman of your standing. I was speaking of your taste for fencing.”

  “It has been around for centuries, sir.” She lifted her head, her temper sparking. Why does he think he should have an opinion on how I choose to spend my time?

  “Well, perhaps not for a man, but for a woman it is entirely another matter.” Doctor Wentworth twisted his mouth and simultaneously scrunched his nose.

  Edyth gritted her teeth and refrained from giving in to the temptation of accidentally stomping on the doctor’s toes and waited for them to complete another turn before responding. “And why would that be? Women need exercise too, Doctor Wentworth, as I’m sure you are well aware.” She couldn’t help herself from adding, “These fashionable corsets are squeezing the life out of girls in the name of beauty, and then men express astonishment at feminine frailty.” She shook her head. “If more girls took their constitutionals at a fencing club, I guarantee you would see fewer of them as patients.”

  “Really, Miss Foster. One should not discuss unmentionables with a gentleman.” The doctor’s voice lowered to a hiss, his eyes narrowing to slits.

  “But you are not only a gentleman, but a physician, sir. Surely the mention of the contraption cannot test your fortitude?” Or I fear you may be in the wrong profession. At his blustered state, she cleared her throat and tried again. Her uncle would be furious if he discovered her sharing her outlandish opinions with a gentleman. She turned the conversation to the doctor. “So, where do you practice?”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line as if contemplating whether or not to answer her after her scandalous comment. “Blackwell’s Island.”

  “Oh?” This piqued her curiosity. She should have led with this question and avoided the tedium of explaini
ng herself and her interests to him. “For which building? I’ve heard they have quite the collection of almshouses, hospitals—”

  “The lunatic asylum in the Lodge building.”

  She nearly stumbled, never expecting that answer. She had just finished dancing with another doctor who worked at the island’s asylum as well. Why on earth would her uncle have two doctors from the lunatic asylum at his stepdaughter’s welcome home party? Her gaze darted to her aunt. Well, she may have erratic moods. “But she’s not mad,” she mumbled, and then chuckled.

  “What was that now? Have I said something humorous?” His brows shot up at her laughter.

  She shook her head. “My apologies, sir, I was merely talking to myself. What is this lodge building? It sounds rather like a place to take a holiday retreat.”

  He clicked his tongue and sighed. “The Lodge is the asylum’s violent ward just down the road from the asylum, and beyond that building is the Retreat, which houses our overflow patients.”

  Well, that’s deceptive. Edyth chewed the inside of her cheek, and the two finished the rest of the dance in blessed silence, both eagerly parting at the conclusion of the waltz.

  Edyth moved toward Bane, who was guiding Lavinia from the floor for the third time. “I hope you are enjoying your dancing more than I am, Cousin. I have had the exceptionally bad luck to have been engaged by two ancient doctors in a row … neither of which seemed all that eager to dance with me in the first place.”

  “Mr. Banebridge has been a delight, but I’m afraid I mustn’t take another turn with him for fear people will talk. After all, I’ve only been in New York for a day, and I must allow Mama to introduce me to the rest of the guests.” Lavinia sent Bane a sweet smile as a handsome young man with a flash of red hair approached them.

  “Excuse me, Miss Birch a–and Miss Foster.” The young man politely included Edyth in his greeting, giving them each an elegant bow. “My name is Doctor Roger Hawkins. I must beg your forgiveness for not waiting until we have been properly introduced to request a dance, Miss Birch, but your mother was telling me so much about you and your accomplishments that I had to see for myself if all her claims were true.”

  Lavinia’s round cheeks tinted with obvious admiration. She snapped open her fan and dipped her head. “It is an honor to meet you, Doctor. And I’m certain that since my stepfather invited you and you have spoken with Mama, it is permission enough for you to request a dance with their daughter.”

  And with that, Doctor Hawkins held out his hand to Lavinia and led her out onto the dance floor without so much as another word to Bane or Edyth.

  Edyth drew in a breath through her teeth, feeling Bane’s ire over her cousin’s obvious attraction to the doctor. Perhaps Lavinia will be spoken for before the night is over after all, and I won’t have to challenge her to a duel for attempting to make off with Bane’s heart when she knows good and well my feelings on the matter. She curbed her thoughts. As much as she might wish it, Bane was not hers and most likely never would be. Why wouldn’t he look for a wife if he did not see one before him now? “Do you think my cousin is attractive?”

  Bane rolled his eyes. “You never know when to stop asking questions.” He offered her his hand. “Come on. I’ll dance with you.”

  Edyth wished she had the strength to refuse his glib offer, but the thought of being in his arms propelled her forward. He pulled her into a waltz and she lost all thoughts but those of Bane … and of losing him to another.

  Chapter Two

  I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.

  ~ Michelangelo

  Edyth tossed under her feather comforter, convinced that he was smitten. Seeing Bane fawn over her cousin last night had been excruciating. He hadn’t even mentioned the anniversary party for the fencing club at this week’s end that she had been planning with him for a month. “How am I to compare with the Parisian Princess?” She sighed and stroked Michelangelo’s soft fur that had turned out to be pearl white and not gray. “Lord, help me bear it if Bane chooses her.”

  She couldn’t deny that Bane deserved the best. If he chose to love Lavinia, then she would have to learn to support him and pray that, in time, she would love him as a friend … as he evidently saw her. At the gentle tap on her door, Edyth rolled out of bed to find Lavinia in a rosy, ruffled dressing robe, bearing a tray with a steaming porcelain chocolate pot and two matching cups.

  “Good morning, Cousin. I hope you don’t mind me coming in early after such a late party, but in Paris I always started my morning off with a cup of chocolate. And I was hoping you would join me, or rather, allow me to join you.” She laughed, lifting the tray.

  Edyth motioned her into her chamber and removed her mother’s worn silk robe from the back of the settee. She slipped it over her plain cotton nightgown, watching Lavinia set the tray atop the French-style writing desk with a clank, the dishes rattling against one another before Lavinia crossed the room and threw open the heavy curtains. Edyth held up her hand, squinting in the morning light and coughing at the dust lifted from the windowsills.

  Lavinia gushed over the handsome men of the night before as she poured the chocolate. Edyth dug her thumb into her palm, massaging against the envy settling over her anew at Lavinia’s state of perfection even after a short night’s sleep. She shuddered to think how wild her hair must appear, what with the storm from last night adding a bit of dampness to the air. She dared a peek in the gilded looking glass above her vanity and suppressed a shudder. She discreetly wiped at the corners of her mouth, removing any trace of having drooled in her sleep.

  Settling onto the settee beside the dwindling fire, Lavinia wrapped her hands around her yellow teacup and sent Edyth the brilliant smile that had captured Bane’s attention. It wasn’t Lavinia’s fault that she was so fetching. What else could Edyth expect, seeing how Lavinia’s own mother had captured Uncle Boris’s attention by her well-preserved beauty?

  “So, you didn’t tell me how handsome your friend was or that he owned the fencing club. I think he will do nicely for you.”

  Edyth jerked her head up, upsetting her teacup and sloshing the hot liquid. Sucking in a breath, she wiped her hand on her nightgown, not minding the brown stain it left behind. “But I—I thought you were interested in him for yourself.”

  “Surely you did not think that I would attempt to steal away the one man you mentioned to me on the first night I was staying under your roof?” She laughed and set aside her cup to scoop up the kitten, stroking behind his ears. “I am not one of those girls. I may be searching for a husband, but I think it is important for us to start off on the right foot.”

  Edyth’s ears burned from her assumptions of her cousin. Forgive me, Lord.

  “And I believe the right foot is to help you capture Mr. Banebridge’s heart, so that’s why I was asking him so many questions about his friendship with you, to see where his heart might lie concerning you.”

  The room had grown far too hot. Edyth pulled at the frayed collar of her robe. Dare I ask what he thought about me? She could fence grown men and ride better than most, and yet the idea of Lavinia speaking of Bane as if Edyth and he were a couple sent her body into profuse perspiration. “And?” she managed to croak.

  “And he respects you.” Lavinia settled back triumphantly, sipping her chocolate.

  The air went out of her. “Oh, that’s lovely.”

  “Come now, Cousin. That is high praise indeed. Not once have I heard a man say that about a female who was not his wife, and even then, it was not often.”

  While Lavinia’s reassurance cooled Edyth’s frenzied heart, it wasn’t only his respect that she craved. “I think I’d rather be admired.”

  Lavinia leaned over and rubbed Edyth’s knee. “Nonsense. If he respects you, I can push him across that thin line to loving you. It would be a great deal harder if he did not think of you at all, but Mr. Banebridge considers you to be his respected friend.”

  While she adored Bane, Edyth
didn’t wish to be the cause of his unhappiness if his admiration of Lavinia was returned. “Are you certain that you do not have feelings for him? Because it sounds like you respect him too.”

  Lavinia laughed. “Of course I respect him, but I find that a certain young doctor has captured my thoughts and may soon hold my heart.”

  Edyth pressed the back of her hand to her heated neck. How could I have so vastly misjudged her? After Bane finally requested a waltz, she had stopped watching Lavinia and so had missed Lavinia’s interaction with the young doctor. Regretting her harsh judgment of her cousin, she retrieved the chocolate pot, topped off both of their cups, and returned to the settee, curling her bare feet under her legs. “I have begun to wonder if maybe dressing the part of a lady might assist my cause? I didn’t think it was an issue because, well, men try to pay me calls often enough. Though I am fairly certain it is only for the sake of my inheritance and nothing else.”

  Lavinia ran her finger around the lip of her cup as if she was measuring her words. “I am glad you brought that up. I do not mean to be rude, but that plaid you were wearing last night is not exactly the height of fashion in New York.”

  Edyth looked down at her nightgown’s collar and cuffs, devoid of the frills that Lavinia’s displayed. She had much to learn if even her nightwear was so simple. “Could you help me select a few gowns to have made? Uncle Boris never employed a governess to guide me in such matters and, well, I am afraid I didn’t request one. I ceased caring about clothes after the accident.” She ran her fingers over the threadbare cuff of the silk robe. “My mother always took care of everything I wore.”