In spite of her caution, Simon had somehow known right away when he saw her. He had asked her first if she was hungry, and then why she was not hungry, and whether she liked strawberries, and did she know that their mother had just bought fresh strawberries.
Finally, Betsey has broken down and confessed what he seemed to already know. She felt terribly guilty about eating the strawberries, but Simon had only laughed and eaten some himself. He had teased her mercilessly, but had never told their parents what she had done.
When Betsey finally arrived at breakfast and saw her brother, she realized that she need not have worried about their meeting in the hallway. Simon was sitting at the kitchen table, eating his porridge, and looking tired but happy.
“Morning, Betsey,” he said with a sleepy grin. “Grace tells me that Mrs. Campbell gave her some herbs to treat her stomach. It was good of you to go with her.”
“I was happy to do it,” Betsey said, cheerfully. “I am always glad to have a reason to spend time with Mrs. Campbell, and Grace is a sweet girl.”
Betsey inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. If Simon was making small talk about Grace feeling poorly, then he had not been wondering why his sister was out of bed late at night. She finished her breakfast quickly, making friendly conversation with Simon, before leaving the kitchen and beginning the day’s duties.
Lady Paulina was still asleep when Betsey returned upstairs, so Betsey walked to her own bedroom. She sat on her narrow bed, intending to darn some holes in her stockings. In fact, she spent several minutes doing nothing but staring into the distance and remembering her walk in the garden with Michael.
When Lady Paulina finally awoke, Betsey had managed to darn one pair of stockings, at least. I suppose that I shall have time to do the others later today, as Lady Paulina has no plans.
Betsey walked out of her bedroom and into Lady Paulina’s to help her dress for the day. Although they were expecting no visitors, and Lady Paulina had nowhere to go, Betsey would be sure to make her look beautiful. Lady Paulina loved her fashionable gowns, and always wanted her hair artfully arranged.
Once Lady Paulina was dressed, coiffed, and pleased with her appearance, she went down to have breakfast with her father. Betsey remained in her mistress’s room, putting away her night clothes, making her bed, and tidying the room.
When this was done, Betsey had time to work on her mending before her mistress returned. Lady Paulina entered her bedroom looking vaguely concerned.
“Is everything all right, My Lady?” Betsey asked, wondering what could be bothering her mistress.
“My father would like to see you in his study,” Lady Paulina replied.
Betsey could tell that her mistress was trying to keep her tone casual, but it was obvious that she was confused. Betsey felt a rush of foreboding at these words. The Earl had never asked to speak to her in his study before, and she could think of no good reason why he would summon her now. Could he possibly know about my meeting with Michael last night? I cannot see how he could.
Betsey bit her lip and asked, “Did he say why he wished to speak with me?”
“No,” Lady Paulina said, her eyes cast down to the floor. “I asked, but he said that I need not concern myself about it. I suppose that it must be something of no real importance.”
“Yes, I suppose you must be right, My Lady,” Betsey said, in what she hoped was a cheerful tone. Of course, she felt certain that this was not the case, but she did not wish to worry her mistress unnecessarily.
Lady Paulina smiled at Betsey in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring, but in fact did nothing to calm her nerves. The pair looked at each other for a moment, Betsey did not know what else to say, and nor it seemed, did Lady Paulina.
After a moment, Betsey broke eye contact with her mistress and said, “Well, I had best not keep the Earl waiting.”
“No,” Lady Paulina agreed. “I suppose not. Well, goodbye then.”
“Goodbye, My Lady,” Betsey said, hoping desperately that it would not be the last time.
Betsey smoothed her skirt, and made sure that her hair was tucked neatly inter her cap before leaving Lady Paulina’s room to meet the Earl. As she walked down the corridor, she told herself that the meeting might be about anything at all.
Betsey could not see how the Earl could possibly know about her relationship with Michael, so there was no reason to assume that was why he had summoned her. Perhaps he had some concern about his daughter, and if that were the case, who better to discuss it with than her personal maid?
She had almost convinced herself that there was no need to worry when she arrived at the door of the Earl’s study. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Betsey knocked on the heavy, oak door. A stern voice bid her enter the room, and when she opened the door, an angry face looked back at her.
Betsey walked slowly across the room to stand in front of the Earl’s desk. “My Lord,” she said, by way of greeting.
“So,” the Earl said, looking reprovingly at Betsey. She waited for him to continue, but he said nothing and merely continued to scowl at her.
“Um…” Betsey began hesitantly, “You wanted to speak with me, My Lord?”
The Earl sighed loudly to show his disdain. “I suppose you are not going to make this easy on either of us, are you?” He asked, his tone sarcastic.
“I’m sorry, My Lord?” Betsey had no idea what to say in response to the Earl’s question.
“Yes, you certainly ought to be sorry!” the Earl said. He was not exactly yelling, but his voice was loud, and harsh in a way that made Betsey flinch with every word.
Betsey had never really believed that this meeting would end well, but the Earl’s words, and even more than that, his tone, confirmed this. She knew now that she was about to lose her position at Cublertone, and nothing she might say would save her from her fate. She did not attempt to argue, and merely hung her head down, looking at her feet.
“I see that you have nothing more to say for yourself,” the Earl continued. “I suppose that I should have expected nothing better. Your brother recommended you so highly when you first came to Cublertone, that I seem to have forgotten that you are nothing more than a common trollop.”
Betsey continued to look down at the floor, saying nothing. She felt pressure mounting in the corners of her eyes, where tears were forming and threatening to spill down her cheeks. She pressed her lips tight together, breathed in deeply through her nose, and willed herself not to let those tears fall.
“Of course, maids are notorious for their loose morals where gentlemen are concerned. Perhaps you thought that if the Viscount of Somerwich made you pregnant, he would keep you and your child in luxury for the rest of your life.”
Betsey looked up sharply at this. “What?” she asked, so shocked by the accusation that all propriety was forgotten.
“Do not pretend to be naïve, you know as well as I that many gentlemen keep common mistresses. Still, I thought that you cared for my daughter, and I am disgusted to learn that you have betrayed her trust.”
Betsey opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it again. She had not done quite what the Earl was suggesting, and she would never consent to be Michael’s mistress, but she could hardly deny that she had betrayed Lady Paulina. Her initial outrage at being accused turned quickly into shame at her own behavior, and she hung her head once again.
“Hmph…” the Earl grunted at her. “I see that you have nothing to say for yourself. I suppose there really is nothing to be said. You are dismissed from your position at Cublertone, effective immediately.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Betsey said quietly, through gritted teeth. She did not look up at the Earl when she spoke.
“You will leave at once,” he continued, as though she had not spoken at all.
“My Lord, please,” Betsey begged. “Please just allow me to see Lady Paulina and say goodbye to her.”
“Don’t be absurd!” the Earl said, sounding exasperated. “Remember, you ar
e in no position to ask for favors. And I will never allow you to speak to my daughter again! I am just thankful that I learned of your duplicitous nature before she did. At least I can spare her the embarrassment of learning what you have done.”
Betsey knew that he was right, but could not bring herself to speak. The tears in her eyes were threatening to spill over at any moment now. So, she merely nodded her head and turned to walk out of the room. The Earl held up a hand to stop her, and then summoned the butler to see her out.
“Just in case you had any thoughts of sneaking off to speak to anyone before you leave,” he said to her with a sneer, as the butler lead her out of the study.
Betsey could see from his expression that he wanted to ask her what had happened, but he did not dare to do so. Instead he walked by her side, sneaking furtive looks at her every few seconds as they walked across the entrance hall. No doubt he will find out why I have been sent away soon enough, the servants will all be talking about me at dinner tonight.
The butler opened the door for Betsey, and bid her farewell as though she were a visitor to Cublertone. She did not know what else to do, so she simply said goodbye and walked out the door, into the crisp morning sunshine.
Chapter 25
For the sake of propriety, Michael knew that he must wait a few days before calling upon Lady Paulina one last time. Betsey had asked only one favor of him—that he told Lady Paulina that he would not marry her as kindly as possible.
Michael hoped that he would be able to honor this request, as he had no wish to hurt Lady Paulina. In fact, he had spent many hours thinking about how he might break this news to Lady Paulina without hurting her feelings.
He was not entirely sure that it would be possible to spare Lady Paulina’s feelings, but he thought that he might be able to lessen the blow somewhat by offering some sincere compliments. Michael felt certain that Lady Paulina did not really wish to marry him anyway, and he hoped that this would prevent her from being too disappointed.
Michael was also concerned with creating a possible scandal. He had not proposed to Lady Paulina, and was therefore would not be breaking an engagement. Still, members of their social class were always aware of which gentlemen were calling upon which ladies.
He did not doubt that his visits to Cublertone had been discussed at length at many nearby estates. If no engagement was forthcoming, there would almost certainly be gossip about what might have gone wrong. When the members of the ton learned that Michael planned to marry Lady Paulina’s maid, they would talk of nothing else. Michael only hoped that their talk would focus on him rather than Lady Paulina.
When three days had passed since his last visit, Michael found that he could no longer stand to remain at home. He did not look forward to his conversation with Lady Paulina, knowing that it was bound to be an uncomfortable one, but he was eager to be finished with the task. And of course, I will see Betsey once again.
Thoughts of seeing his beloved once again filled Michael’s mind, overshadowing any worries about what he would say to Lady Paulina. He imagined running his fingers through her hair, kissing her soft lips, and feeling her smooth skin against his own. He wondered if he might be able to find a moment along with her during his visit, but reminded himself that this would be quite unlikely.
Michael decided that he would ride Pepper to Cublertone today, rather than taking the carriage. The weather was fine, and he did not wish to be confined. He had always found that riding Pepper helped to calm his nerves and clear his mind, both of which would serve him well today.
He was eager to set out for Cublertone, but Michael knew that it would be improper to arrive at such an early hour. Besides, if he failed to appear at breakfast with his parents, it would only raise awkward questions. So, with a sigh, Michael walked downstairs and entered the dining room.
When he entered the room he found his mother sitting at the table by herself. She looked up when he walked in and greeted her son with a smile.
“Good morning, Mother,” Michael said, returning her smile. “Will Father be joining us?”
“No,” the Countess said, her voice neutral. “Your father is feeling poorly today. His cough seems to be getting worse, I’m afraid.”
Michael only nodded at this, but said nothing. He could not help but feel relieved that his father was not joining them this morning. He knew that he ought to feel sorry for his father, and concerned about what might be causing his cough. He simply could not muster these feelings, and felt a pang of guilt for being so callous, but it was a brief one.
There could be no denying that breakfast with his mother was a much more pleasant affair than it would have been with the Earl present. They talked casually of the weather, the goings on in town, and some minor household staffing changes, and the meal passed quickly. Michael was pleased to find that enough time had passed and it was now a reasonable time to set out for Cublertone.
“I am off to call on Lady Paulina,” he told his mother, as they stood up from the dining table.
“Oh, I am pleased to hear that. Do enjoy your visit!” the Countess replied, sounding delighted.
Michael felt another pang of guilt at this, knowing that his mother would not approve of his plans for today’s visit. For the briefest moment, he considered telling her the truth—he believed that she would support him even if she did not approve—but he decided against it. As much as he hated lying to his mother, he felt that he owed it to Lady Paulina to speak to her before telling anyone else.
“Thank you, Mother,” he said neutrally, before ringing for a servant to fetch his hat and riding coat. His mother kissed him lightly on the cheek before bidding him farewell.
Once he had his hat and coat on, Michael stepped outside to find a chilly but bright day, the sky a beautiful, clear azure shade. A few small white clouds dotted the sky, but they looked puffy and showed no indication of rain to come. He could hardly have hoped for better riding conditions, and Michael smiled to himself as he walked across the grounds to the stables.
Stable boys were hard at work when he arrived, mucking out stalls and repairing tack. The youngest one, who Michael thought could not be more than thirteen years old, looked up and saw him first.
“Shall I saddle Pepper for you, My Lord?” he asked.
Michael could not remember the boy’s name, and chided himself for forgetting. He knew that most members of the ton did not know the names of every stable boy or maid in their household, but he had always prided himself on both his memory and his kindness to servants.
“Thank you,” he said, hoping that his cheerful tone would make up for his lack of knowing the boy’s name. “I appreciate the offer, but I will saddle Pepper myself.”
“Yes, My Lord,” the boy said, seeming a bit confused, and returned to his work.
Michael walked over to Pepper in his stall, reaching out to pet the stallion’s nose. Pepper nuzzled his hand affectionately, his breath forming mist in the air as he snorted. Michael had Pepper saddled and tacked, led him out to the yard, and was on his way within a few minutes.
The ride to Cublertone was a pleasant one, passing through a small village where there was a bookstore that Michael sometimes liked to visit. He did not stop at the shop today, but waved to the proprietor who was looking out of the window as he passed by. He continued along the winding, country lane, rehearsing in his head what he would say to Lady Paulina.
When he finally arrived at Cublertone, Michael was greeted by the butler as usual, and a stable boy was summoned to see to Pepper while Michael was inside.
“Please come into the drawing room, My Lord. I will tell Lady Paulina that you are here.”
“Thank you,” Michael said, thinking not of Lady Paulina, but of Betsey who would also be joining them as Lady Paulina’s chaperone.
Michael sat down on the small sofa that had become his usual spot during his visits to Cublertone. He looked around the room, eager for the arrival of his true love, nervous for his conversation with Lady Paulina
, and wondering how he was supposed to have that conversation with Betsey in the room.
Michael decided that it would be best to suggest a walk in the garden. Betsey would still accompany them, but as a good chaperone, she would follow them from several paces behind, giving the illusion of privacy. It was not ideal, but Michael felt sure that this would make the conversation less awkward than if they spoke about it in the drawing room.
He had just come to this conclusion, when the drawing room door opened once again, and the butler announced that Lady Paulina would see Michael. She entered the room, and greeted Michael with a smile, followed by a maid who wore a large mob cap and kept her face turned down to the floor, hiding it from Michael’s view.
Michael’s stomach lurched, but it took his mind a moment to fully understand what he was seeing. Although her face was hidden, it could hardly have been more clear that this maid was not Betsey. She was shorter and slighter, probably no more than sixteen years old. When she sat down in the corner, Michael caught a glimpse of her face—pretty enough, he supposed, but it paled in comparison to Betsey’s beautiful visage.
The Viscount Who Seduced Her (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 21