Frigid Waters (Ladies of Loomcroft)
Page 1
Frigid Waters
A Lady of Loomcroft Novel
by J.E. Clymer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
© J.E. Clymer 2014
All rights reserved.
Cover courtesy of Melody Simmons at http://ebookindiecovers.com/.
Comments, questions, or inquiries? Email the author at jeclymer@yahoo.com.
http://www.jeclymer.weebly.com
**Names and locations are in NO way meant to be historically accurate. Thank you for understanding.**
Chapter 1
Two months. Two months since Alexandria went missing. Two months since Martin Loomcroft set out to get his eligible daughters wed—no matter what.
Two months of non-stop socializing. Belladonna was not sure of how much longer she could take it, but she hoped her father would come to his senses soon. She really didn't understand why Alexandria's actions should affect the rest of the Loomcroft girls.
Alexandria had never really been one of them. She followed on father's coat tails from the time she could walk, ignored her older and younger sisters alike, and vanished for long periods all together to that blasted cottage of hers.
Belladonna had been the one to stay. When her step mothers said curtsy, by the devil, she curtsied. When one died in childbirth, Belladonna was the one to pick up the pieces that were left of her sisters. She had done everything expected and asked of her.
Instead of thanks, she got shoved out into the ton three times a week. It was like a bitter sweet tonic that she couldn't escape. She loved talking to the older women who would sit along the walls of the balls; they were a reservoir of knowledge that they were happy to share. The social events also gave her a break from her ever growing number of little sisters.
The biggest problem with having to attend social engagements was that her father had made it clear to every possible suitor that he wanted her wed and he'd pay to do it. The whole situation had her on edge because she couldn't decide if they genuinely liked her or if they liked the idea of having a multiple of her weight in gold.
A soft tug on the side of her dress had her looking down at the older woman seated beside her. She looked over at the Lady Malberry. Before she could speak the woman chuckled, “I did call for you, my dear. Are you all right?”
Belladonna smiled at the woman. She wasn't concerned, she was nosy. That said, in her position you could never snub someone as well connected as Lady Malberry, not even the most intrusive of women. She reverted to her well practiced neutral tone. “Forgive me, Lady Malberry, I fear I am not quite a church-bell today.”
The older woman chuckled, “Do not worry, Miss Loomcroft, no one would ever consider you to be a church-bell. I was hoping you may fetch me a glass of punch.”
It wasn't as if she could say no. Swallowing she looked out at the crowd. There were more people at this ball than she could count and it seemed like they were all gathered in small groups in front of her. She forced a smile at Lady Malberry that never quite made it to her eyes. “I would be happy to, my Lady.” She replied with a quick, shallow curtsy.
She weaved her way thru the crowd towards the refreshment table. She had to skirt the open dance floor as she went. A dance was ending. Gentlemen stood on in a row with their ladies opposite them; there were many bows and curtsies. The next dance was a waltz.
If she slowed her walk then she would be able to watch. Belladonna loved the waltz. It reminded of the fairy tales she told to the girls. Belladonna may not have held out hope for her own love, but watching people waltz helped her to imagine how it might be. She couldn't even describe why. Logically she knew it was just a dance, but emotionally it still made her think of that the sweet and naive romances that a child dreamed of.
Couples started to gather on the dance floor and she walked along the edge. Soon she'd be at her destination. It almost made her sad because once she had the drink she'd worry too much about spilling it to take in the sight of the dance.
She was still gazing at the gathering couples when a strong arm linked under hers. “Here you are, my dear. I feared you forgot you promised me this dance.” A man said overly loudly beside her.
It wasn't until he was dragging her out onto the dance floor that she realized he was talking to her. “What are you doing?” She practically hissed at him in a low voice.
He placed a hand on waist and took her opposite hand in his. When she didn't move he quickly grabbed her unoccupied hand and moved it up to his shoulder. “Play along,” he mumbled.
The dance started. They were spinning and Belladonna wasn't sure how she wasn't tripping on his feet. She no longer felt the need to whisper now that her world was literally spinning. “Play along?” She asked.
He smiled, “Yes, dancing with you is far preferable to dancing with Lady Sexton.”
Her wide eyes narrowed in her heart-shaped face. Understanding dawned on her quickly. “You don't even know who I am.” She stated, her voice unusually neutral of tone—even for her.
“You are...you are...” Color crept into his cheeks as he tried. Smiling he tried to recover. “You are a very beautiful woman enjoying a dance.”
Her fingers dug into his shoulder. “Well, at least I know we have not been formally introduced. May I have your name, sir?”
His brow furrowed. “I think you just told me that I am forgettable, my dear. George Livery is never forgettable, Miss.”
Her finely lined eyebrow arched up slightly. “I suppose, sir, you will have to remind me of that if I ever have the misfortune of dancing with you again.”
She ducked under his arm and walked calmly off the dance floor. George Livery, the fourth son of the Earl of Riverton, watched on in amazement. He only exited the dance floor when another couple almost danced right into him.
He rushed thru the crowd and caught up to her. “I am sorry, Miss. You should have informed me that you were parched. I would have been happy to escort you to the table.” He eyed her target.
Belladonna tilted her face up so she could see his clearly, “I do not require refreshment, Mr. Livery.” Her tone betrayed nothing.
The poor man looked slightly confused again. “You are tired then. I shall find you a seat.”
She shook her head, “I am quite all right, sir.”
When she started to fill a glass of punch he stepped slightly closer than was appropriate. In a low voice he said, “You gave me the cut direct by leaving the dance floor in that manner, Miss.”
She turned and looked him in the eyes. “So I did. If you'll excuse me, Mr. Livery, I promised Lady Malberry a drink.”
George felt anger spark and burn in his stomach. The woman was a spinster, that much was clear, she should have been happy for a dance. Instead she'd intentionally embarrassed him. Furthermore, she practically opened the flood gates for gossip.
He followed her quietly to the group of spinsters. His anger riding close to the surface, restrained only by his determination to give back her treatment in kind. Oh, it might not be tonight, but it would be soon. Although he didn't know her name, he knew the woman made a frequent habit of holding up ballroom walls.
She returned to the old matron's side and handed her the drink. “I apologize for taking so long, Lady Malberry. I was unexpectedly detained.”
George bowed behind her. “Good evening, Lady Malberry.”
The older woman took the drink and nodded at George. She then turned her attention back to Belladonna, “Miss Loomcroft, think nothing of it. Although dancing
is a young woman's past-time, you should avail yourself to it every chance you get.”
George stepped forward and directed his attention to Lady Malberry. “My Lady, may a borrow Miss Loomcroft for a turn around the floor? I am sure she would enjoy a leisurely stroll.”
Lady Malberry smiled and nodded. “I agree, it would be good for her, Mr. Livery.”
Belladonna opened her mouth slightly as if trying to speak, but then she immediately shut it. It simply would not do to call the man names in front of Lady Malberry. Why couldn't he have just taken a hint? Did she need an embossed place card to tell him she was as uninterested in him as he was in her?
It was his hurt pride, that could be the only explanation. Suddenly her hand was thru the crook of his arm and they were walking slowly around the edge of the ballroom. She refused to look at him and was instead gazing out at the dancing couples once again.
He cleared his throat, but she didn't look over. “Miss Loomcroft, are you ill?”
“Certainly not, sir.” She replied, but never looked at him.
He chuckled, “I see. Then you are just unaccustomed to behaving with good manners.”
Her tone was a steady neutral as she finally glanced towards him, “You, Mr. Livery, seem to have a similar affliction. You see, it is customary to only ask a lady to dance to whom you have been introduced. Of course, it is also customary actually to ask the lady to dance before one starts dancing with said lady.”
“I did not embarrass you publicly.” He accused.
She forced a smile. To George it looked more like a snarling wolf going in for the kill. “Mr. Livery, did you not? You have a reputation as a rake, as assuredly I have the reputation of a spinster. Merely dancing with you could have ruined me, so I took the only logical option and stopped. Make no mistake, I am quite poked up over the whole affair.”
George laughed, “Most women would show less offense at the discovery of an actual affair. A dance would certainly not bring so much of a statement as leaving me on a dance floor alone.”
Her eyes narrowed, but her tone didn't change. “I was unaware you needed your hand was in need of constant holding, Mr. Livery. I am confident we can find a kind gentleman to aid you if need be.”
“No wonder you are not married,” he said vindictively.
She smiled and it wouldn't have surprised him any more than a blow to the face. Her emerald eyes sparkled and dimples formed under her eyes. The beauty in that smile almost put all the other women in the room to shame. “Why, thank you.”
He knew the moment the words were out of her mouth that she meant them. She wasn't married because she could not find a husband, she wasn't married because she had chosen not to be. None the less, George couldn't help feeling that the woman was the enemy. No one embarrassed him like that, no one.
###
The next morning Belladonna crawled out of bed early. At just past nine in the morning she was dressed and downstairs. Lorna was already wrestling toddlers in the nursery and her step-mother, Cara, was busy trying to get the most recent addition to the house, Cailie, down for a nap.
Every time Cailie started to cry every girl under the age of five followed suit. Unfortunately for the Loomcroft household Cara had a tendency for twins. Her three pregnancies prior to Cailie were all twins.
Belladonna immediately headed for the nursery. All she had to do was hold out her arms and Cara immediately deposited Cailie. Belladonna rocked the infant softly and slowly while humming. The tune never matter, only the hum. Cailie almost immediately quieted.
“So...I take it you will be doing the teaching today.” She said softly to her step-mother.
Cara looked on the verge of tears when she nodded. “Why will she not do that for me?”
Belladonna smiled sadly. Cara tried, but she had almost no natural instincts when it came to mothering. “I have just had more practice. I will get her to sleep and be down directly.”
Belladonna rocked and soothed the child until she was well asleep. She laid the child down in her crib and kissed her forehead softly. It was the natural thing to do.
She padded down the stares softly and headed into the kitchen. Cara looked exhausted as she slumped in a chair by the table. Belladonna cocked her head and asked, “How long have you been up?”
Cara almost moaned when she said, “Since just past midnight.”
Belladonna grabbed a pear from a bowl on the table. “Why didn't you get me up?” She asked taking a bite.
Cara shook her head, “I wanted to prove I could take care of her myself, but I could not even get her to go sleep.”
Understanding dawned on Belladonna. There was no need for Cara to prove anything as long as Belladonna was here. “Who does he think he is going to marry me off to this time?”
Cara looked like she had been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. “I did not say that...”
Belladonna took another bite of the pear. “You didn't have to.”
Cara sighed, “Belladonna, you are well past the age to be married and have babes of your own. Another year or two and you will have no hope of a match.”
She shrugged at the woman, “I am needed here.”
Her step-mother looked at her with pity, “Then what? You can not live here forever.”
Belladonna studied the younger woman who was married to her father. She could see it, but she could hardly believe it. Cara had always been her friend, but it was there. Jealousy. So, father wasn't the only one trying to push her out of the nest.
Her face took on the serene look of disinterest that she wore during social calls and her voice because neutrally flat. “Well, Cara, I think I will do the tutoring today. Call me if there are any problems in the nursery.”
Cara didn't object and Belladonna walked up the stairs with her back straight and her shoulders squared. It was only thru constantly reminding herself that ladies don't run that she managed not to flee up the stairs.
In the schoolroom her sisters were behaving splendidly. They read with her and practiced their letters and numbers. In short, they were angels, which meant only one thing. They had gotten away with something. Belladonna smiled lovingly at her younger sisters. She might as well let them enjoy it because it was only a matter of time before she figured out what they had done and administered an appropriate punishment.
Two hours past and she actually enjoyed them. She hated the schoolroom as a child and her sisters generally made her hate it as an adult, but today her sisters were on their best behavior. As the second hour ticked by her she started to feel a heavy sense of dread in her stomach.
Something was not right and she knew it. Pushing back from the table she smiled at six of her younger sisters and excused herself. The second she was in the hall she knew something was wrong. Her first clue was a maid crawling under the hall table. Of course, she could only assume it was a maid because all she could see was her shoes and ankles sticking out from under the long table cloth.
She walked past the maid and directly to the nursery. She eyed the cribs and started to feel sick at her stomach. She counted again. This time she was certain; they were short a baby. She started running thru names in her head. Nodded and left the room.
She rushed down the stairs with as much composure as she could muster. Squaring her shoulders she entered the sitting room. Cara was pacing in front of the fire place.
Belladonna cleared her throat, “Cara, where is Bethany?” Her tone wasn't quite neutral, it reminded Cara of an empty, frozen street in winter.
Cara couldn't help but burst out crying, “I have lost her! I have lost my baby. I swear I only turned my back for a moment, then...”
Belladonna nodded and turned to leave the room. She didn't turn back when she muttered, “The house is not that large.”
She started in the nursery, then worked thru out the halls. She stopped abruptly as she passed the schoolroom. The girls had been acting abnormally good this morning. They wouldn't. Oh, yes, they would. Torment the ladies
in charge was one of their favorite games.
Opening the door to the study she leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms. Six pairs of eyes met hers and they all widened. “Where Is She?” Belladonna bit out each word slowly.
The all looked like they were going to stand together and keep their mouths shut. She rounded on Kristine. “Kristine, where is Bethany?” She stared the little girl down.
Kristine sniffed once, then twice. “She...”
One of the other girls hissed at their sister, “Kristine, no!”
Belladonna stared deeply into her sister's eyes, “Kristine, do not make me ask a third time.”
Kristine sniffed and shook, “She is in the garden.”
Looking around the room she pressed, “Why is Bethany in the garden?”