Summerset Abbey (29 page)

Just then there was a loud commotion at the other end of the hall and the music faltered for a moment before continuing. The dancers craned their heads to see what was going on. Prudence watched Cairns carting two struggling young men out of the room by their arms. As they made their way through the door, Prudence gasped when she saw that one of them was Andrew.

*   *   *

Lady Summerset glided through the crowd, her face fixed with an expression of nonchalant enjoyment. That was the look she
intended and she pulled it off, in spite of the half dozen pressing emergencies that always occurred when throwing an event of this size. Her steadfast companions in keeping everything running smoothly during the double balls were Hortense, Mrs. Harper, and Cairns. All three knew that in spite of it being their night to have a good time, their duty came first. Lady Summerset could hire extra servants from town to serve dinner, but no one could take the places of those three. In fact, Lady Summerset was certain that if Cairns, Mrs. Harper, and Hortense had been in charge of the Boer War, it would have come to a much speedier conclusion.

The servants’ ball was coming along splendidly, except for that one little difficulty concerning their footman and Sir Dalton’s valet. But Cairns had taken care of that. He had just given her the report and surprise, surprise, it had concerned Prudence Tate. Lady Charlotte unfurled her ivory fan and fanned herself slowly, her eyes scanning the room.

It was the second time this evening that the girl’s name had been brought up. She was becoming every bit the nuisance she’d feared, though for entirely different reasons. Her dear friend Edith had already come up to her and asked who Prudence was. Evidently, she’d found her son having a rather intense conversation with the lovely Prudence on the grand staircase. Having to tell her dear friend that Prudence was her nieces’ lady’s maid was one of the single most mortifying things she’d ever had to do. She and Edith had long cherished the hope that their two families would be united through marriage, and she was sure that, given time, Sebastian’s and Elaine’s friendship would blossom into something more. Until it did, every female was a potential threat, and if the daughter had the cunning and wiles of the mother . . .

Lady Summerset spotted Prudence standing with Victoria, Rowena, and Elaine and a few of the other girls in their set. They were watching the dancers and chatting. Only with discipline was she able to keep the slow-burning irritation she felt in her stomach from showing on her face. How dare the girl dress that way? If Lady Summerset hadn’t known better, she would have taken the girl for aristocracy. There were very few servants, no matter how comely, no matter how fine the clothing, who could pass for gentry. Something in their language or speech would give them away. But you could introduce this girl to court and no one would know that her mother was a slatternly maid who’d had a child out of wedlock when she was barely old enough to wear long corsets.

The burn increased as the Duchess of Kent stopped to speak to the girls. Lady Summerset watched, incensed, as Prudence was introduced, gave a heartbreakingly perfect curtsy, and chatted with the Duchess as if she had a right to it all. The Duchess moved on and Lady Charlotte sauntered in that direction. There had to be a way to put a stop to that creature before she could cause any more mischief. She was stopped a few moments later when Lord Billingsly, accompanied by Lady Summerset’s son and young Kittredge, descended upon the girls, laughing. In spite of several shakes of her dark head, Prudence was led out onto the dance floor by Lord Billingsly, who had glanced at no one else, not even the comely Lady Diana Manners, who had also joined the group.

Warning bells rang in Lady Summerset’s head as she observed the couple dancing, their eyes full of each other. Glancing around the room, she spotted Hortense in the arms of Sir James McLeod, a retired commander of Her Majesty’s Navy. Lady Summerset caught her eye and indicated that her presence was needed. If
Hortense was displeased at her inconvenient summons, she gave no indication and was by her ladyship’s side in moments.

“I need to speak to Prudence as soon as possible. Send her to the drawing room just before the bell is rung for supper. And please let Cairns know that I changed the seating arrangements. Put Elaine next to Lord Billingsly. Seat whoever was there next to Mr. Pettigrew, please.”

That accomplished, she made her leisurely way through the Great Hall, chatting with her guests and asking her servants whether they were having a good time. Her servants assured her they were and whispered to one another, gratified that she’d remembered their names.

By the time Lady Summerset made her way to her lovely new drawing room, it was almost time for the bell to be rung for dinner, always a trying time, as the extra servants from town were bound to do something wrong, unlike her own servants, who served impeccably. She trailed her fingers along the satiny-smooth marble of the fireplace mantel, considering her next move. The fact that the girl was still here, after all the subtle attempts to force her out, indicated a tiresome stubbornness and loyalty. Two character traits that may be applauded in others but were rather an inconvenience in this case. Her continued presence at Summerset was not only the threat of a possible scandal but now it was also a risk to her daughter’s happiness. Something must be done.

She heard Prudence enter the room behind her.

“You wished to see me, my lady?”

Lady Summerset turned to face Prudence and her stomach churned uneasily to see the Buxton eyes staring back at her. She wished her own daughter had received those signature eyes instead
of her own commonplace blue ones. But then Prudence lowered her eyes in a subservience Lady Summerset knew she didn’t feel.

“Do you know why I asked you here? No, of course not,” Lady Summerset continued without waiting for an answer. “You couldn’t possibly know.”

The girl’s eyes shot up to Lady Summerset’s face for a moment before she lowered them again—the only evidence of her surprise.

Perhaps Lady Summerset’s greatest unacknowledged talent was her gift for cards. She was a skilled player in any game society chose to play that season, and her chief talent was the ability to both win
and lose
at will. It takes real skill to lose a game without arousing the suspicion of the other players. This skill came in very handy with Poor King Edward, who was a passionate and talentless card player. She knew exactly when and how each card should be played and it was time to play one now.

“I’m sure you are quite aware that you are not wanted here at Summerset.” Prudence’s head came up and she paled. Lady Summerset continued. “Don’t take it personally, my dear, because it really has nothing to do with you, but rather the whole situation.”

The girl made no attempt at subservience now. She kept her eyes trained on Lady Summerset in a way that was rather unnerving. “Exactly what would it take for you to leave, I wonder?”

“Excuse me?”

Lady Summerset held in an impatient breath. “I suppose you are staying on because of your loyalty to Victoria and Rowena, and that is commendable, but surely you can see now that it’s not necessary? This is their home and they are among family. I know
their upbringing was unconventional, but surely you can see that this is the life they were born to and it’s a life that you definitely were
not
born to?”

“Isn’t it?” the girl asked, rather saucily. “I’m the daughter of a maid and I am here as a lady’s maid. You might say this is exactly what I was born for.”

Lady Summerset had an urge to slap her but smiled instead. “You misunderstand me. Yes, your mother was a maid, but you were not raised to be in service. And really, your presence here is making both Victoria and Rowena unhappy, though in different ways.”

She watched the girl’s face carefully and saw that her words had hit home. She pressed her advantage. “I’m not unkind. I am simply of the school that believes like should stick with like, and I am afraid your continued presence in my home will only serve to upset my nieces further.” She paused to let her words sink in. “So what would you need in order to leave comfortably?”

Prudence pressed her hands together until her knuckles were white. “You are offering me money?”

Lady Summerset’s mouth pursed together with distaste. How like the young to bring up money. “I’m offering you . . . assistance.”

Prudence cleared her throat. “I am here because Rowena and Victoria want me here. They need me to be with them and their father would want us to be together. I will leave when they no longer need me.”

Prudence turned to leave, but Lady Summerset grabbed hold of her arm. “So you would stay even if doing so is hurting the girls you profess to love?”

Prudence remained stonily silent.

“My offer is still good when you come to your senses.”

Prudence shook Lady Summerset’s hand off her arm and once again, Lady Summerset wished for the old days when one could strike a servant with no consequences. Prudence whisked out of the room, her head held high.

The dinner bell sounded and Lady Summerset took a moment to compose herself. Then she placed a smile on her face and went to join her guests.

R
owena threw herself into having fun at the servants’ ball. She gossiped with the girls, gushed over her cousin’s impromptu plans for a skating party tomorrow, danced with every young man who asked her, and even participated in the planning of the evening’s prank. During dinner, she flirted sweetly with the old deaf major to her right and listened intently to the woman on her left, whose reigning passion was in the care and breeding of corgis.

And none of it did a damn bit of good. The world stayed drab and cold, and inside, where there should be feelings and thoughts and ideas, there was emptiness. What was wrong with her? For something had to be wrong. Young women didn’t just stop feeling alive because their father died. She knew her sister was in every bit as much pain as she was, but Victoria was still Victoria. She was still passionate and articulate and mercurial in her emotions. Rowena didn’t feel like the same girl at all. Of course, she’d never been as spirited as Vic. Maybe her father’s death had just revealed to Rowena her true character . . . she was a boring, cold, listless woman without passions or original ideas, who was destined to grow old without having really lived.

She shook her head, impatient with her gloomy thoughts. How morbid she could be for heaven’s sake!

Elaine stealthily passed her a flask and Rowena shrugged. Might as well. She still had another ball to make it through. Now that the servants’ ball was over, the rest of the orchestra had joined their companions who had played earlier and they’d reconvened in the grand ballroom, where the family ball was to begin. She took a short pull on the flask, sputtered, and passed it back to Elaine.

“What is that?” she asked. “It’s so sweet!”

“Black cherry brandy. Kit brought it. Isn’t it wretched? We’re putting it in the punch and we’ll see if anyone notices.”

“Someone will notice all right. It’s horrid.” But it warmed its way down her chest and into her stomach and Rowena felt herself relaxing ever so slightly.

She spotted Victoria standing near the doorway next to Kit, who had suddenly become her sister’s shadow. At first she’d been concerned about such a suave young man taking an interest in her little sister, but as far as she could tell he seemed far more smitten than Victoria was. Poor fellow. He’ll soon find out that Victoria still looks at men as simply deeper-voiced playmates.

“This is my favorite part of Christmas,” Elaine said, linking her arms with Rowena’s. “No matter how boring the balls are, it’s almost worth it to see the ballroom look this way.”

Rowena agreed. Though the ballroom had been wired for electricity, for this occasion the room had been lit with the soft, flattering glow of hundreds of candles from the low-hanging crystal chandeliers and dozens of gold and ivory Chinese lanterns, all of which were reflected in the large gilt mirrors lining one wall. Rowena knew that this year the giant Christmas tree in the corner had been strung with thousands of electric fairy lights, which would be turned on at the designated moment.
They were still rare enough in country homes as to cause a sensation.

The corners of her mouth twitched. Of course, no one but the Coterie knew just how much of a sensation the lighting of the Christmas tree was going to cause.

Small white and gold chairs with ivory brocade cushions were scattered in little groups under enormous potted palms to give the ladies and gentlemen a place to rest when they tired of dancing. The chairs and sofas had been specially designed for the room in the 1700s by Thomas Chippendale so they would fit perfectly under the mirrors. The dance floor itself was a work of art, each inlaid piece of wood brought over, log by log, from South America, back during the colonial period. It gleamed with the care that only the attention of a half dozen servants working for a week could impart.

She spotted Aunt Charlotte near the punch bowl, regal in a rose-colored lace ball gown with sleeves that puffed out softly at the shoulders. A shimmering tiara sat on her head and a diamond choker glittered at her neck. She and Sebastian’s mother were chatting with a blue-haired princess from Austria. Her uncle was speaking to a Turkish diplomat near the orchestra with some men from the House of Lords. Her cousin Colin and Sebastian stood with Kit and Victoria, watching the orchestra warm up after their hour-long break and reconfiguration. The only person who wasn’t here was Prudence, but of course, she wouldn’t be here. She hadn’t been invited.