Jane Feather (22 page)

Katie’s face scrunched up, but she said nothing as she helped Victoria stand upright and they began walking slowly down the street.

Victoria’s fingers and toes tingled and she wasn’t sure if it was the aftereffects of her experience or the anger building at her core.

So that was what Rowena was hiding from her.
They were selling her home! Their lovely house with its countless windows, bright, clean lines, and years of treasured memories. How could Rowena let it happen?

Prudence kept her eyes closed. Each little jolt of the carriage grated against both her bones and her nerves. When they had started out yesterday, she’d felt a stirring of excitement underlying the grief that still lingered on her skin like a film of powder. But that had been early in the day, before the endless green fields and autumn-lit trees had lost their novelty. By the time they’d stopped at the inn in Bedford last night, she’d been stiff and more than a little sore. Now every muscle screamed at her enforced confinement. She wished they’d waited to come down until the next week, when the driver would be delivering Sir Philip’s new motorcar to Summerset, but the Earl had insisted on a traditional funeral procession. He rode in the carriage in front of them, while the black mahogany coach carrying Sir Philip’s coffin led the way.

Often, when they met a motorcar, the coaches had to stop to settle the horses, which made her want to scream. It felt as if they’d never reach Summerset.

Rowena and Victoria had barely said two words to each other since their quarrel the other day. Victoria had been in such a huff, she’d had to be put on the nebulizer on and off for the rest of that afternoon. For Prudence, the sulky silence between the sisters made the never-ending ride even more unbearable.

Her mind still reeled from the revelation that Rowena’s uncle was going to sell their home. Rowena promised she wouldn’t let it happen. Prudence had no idea what she could do to stop it, but she had to trust Rowena.

Next to her Victoria stretched. “How long now, Ro?” Her voice sounded contrite and Rowena answered in kind.

“It shouldn’t be too long. Look, we’re going past the kissing mill.”

“Why do you call it that?” Prudence asked as both she and Victoria craned their heads to look out the carriage window.

“The locals have a legend that if you ask your girl to marry you by the water wheel, she can’t say no,” Victoria said.

Rowena snorted. “I think it’s just a private place for couples to get away to kiss.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Victoria said. She turned to Prudence. “We’re on Summerset land now. The manor is over the next hill. I can’t believe you’ve never been here before.”

“It does seem strange,” Rowena agreed. “Victoria and I have spent almost every summer here since we were children.”

Prudence looked down at her hands. “My mother was happy with the holiday to Bath your father gave us every year. She said there would be time for visiting later on.”

“But you never did,” Victoria said.

“No. I never did.”

“Weren’t you born in the village?”

She nodded.

“Well, you could have family here.”

Prudence had never thought about it, but it was entirely possible. So why had her mother never come back to visit? Most women can’t bear to be parted from their families, but her mother’s family was never mentioned. For that matter, her mother had rarely spoken of her girlhood and never about Summerset Abbey. Could it have something to do with the Earl, as those women at the funeral had suggested?

“So tell me about Summerset,” she said, partly to change the subject and partly to pass the time.

“It’s lovely, imposing, and terrifying,” Victoria said immediately.

Prudence raised her brows. “Terrifying how?”

“It’s a bit intimidating because it is so large and some parts of it are rather frightening. But it’s lovely, too.”

As Victoria warmed to her subject, Prudence learned that Summerset was built in the early 1600s on the site of an earlier home that had been built on the ruins of a castle constructed in the eighth century. It sat on a park of over a thousand acres, with three formal gardens, a kitchen garden, its own lake, and several ponds. The house itself had over a hundred rooms and staffed a small army of sixty servants, which included not only housemaids, footmen, and gardeners but also a carpenter, a stonemason, and a mechanic to keep the motors in top shape.

“I think you’ll like it, even if it’s very different from our house,” Victoria finished. “You’ll especially love the library, which has over five thousand books.”

Rowena cleared her throat in a very nervous, I-have-something-to-tell-you way. Prudence and Victoria looked at her expectantly.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t completely forthright about my discussion with Uncle Conrad.”

“You mean about something else besides him selling our home from underneath us?” Victoria murmured, and Prudence hushed her.

Rowena glanced at Prudence and then away. Prudence clenched her hands in her lap and tried to smile as a sense of foreboding shivered through her. “Out with it, Ro. You look as if you’ve swallowed a lemon.”

“I feel a bit as if I have.” Rowena bit her lip. “He didn’t want you to come, you see. I don’t know why.”

Prudence felt her smile slip from her face and her body tense. “Yes, you do,” she said quietly. “He feels you are far too familiar with the daughter of a governess who was a former parlor maid.”

“That’s nonsense,” Victoria burst out.

Prudence ignored her. “If he didn’t want me to come, why am I here?” she asked.

“Because I couldn’t bear to part with you. Not now. We need to all be together.” Rowena gave her a pleading look. “So I made a deal with him. I said you would be our lady’s maid, and of course, he couldn’t deny you then.”

The knots in her stomach tightened. “Well, that’s not so bad.” She tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a yelp. “I look after you both anyway.”

The fine line of Rowena’s jaw clenched. “I’m afraid he was very adamant about your being staff and not a guest. I’m not sure what he meant by that, but it sounded rather ominous.”

Prudence licked her lips with a tongue suddenly as dry as parchment. “Is there any reason why you are just now telling me this?”

Rowena looked at the floor. “I was afraid you might not want to come if you knew.”

Next to her, Victoria gripped her hand. “You would have come anyway, wouldn’t you have, Pru?”

She gave Victoria’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Of course I would have. It’ll be all right.”

“Of course it will. And it won’t be forever. I’ll think of something.”

Rowena tried to sound confident, but Prudence could detect the uncertainty in her voice. She turned to the window. Would she have come anyway? Probably. She’d always had one foot in each world. On one hand, she was Pru, racing through the house with her friends, studying at Sir Philip’s feet, traveling with the family to the seaside. On the other hand, she helped her mother keep the schoolroom clean, and occasionally helped with some of her other duties when it was needed. When Sir Philip was alive, the arrangement had worked and they were all happy. But now everything had changed and she didn’t know where she stood anymore.

The carriage turned a corner and Victoria called out excitedly, “There’s Summerset Abbey, Prudence, look!”

Prudence craned her neck and her heart sank. Slender Italianate spires seemed to reach for the sky, rising from an imposing structure so massive it took up more than a London city block. The grounds around it were so immaculate and severe that Prudence couldn’t imagine a leaf or stone daring to shift out of place. This was no comfortable home where little girls played hide-and-seek in cozy alcoves, or giggled while they devoured savory meat pies. Poets and artists wouldn’t dare argue over their ale while lounging in front of the fire in this household. At this castle, for it was far more of a castle than a manor, everyone knew his place and stuck to it.

When they finally reached the front entrance, Lord Summerset leapt from his coach and came around to open their door. Prudence’s knees ached as she stepped down first. A tall, thin woman in a billowing, old-fashioned black wincey dress stood stiffly before her. Prudence gave her an uncertain smile. Surely this wasn’t Lady Summerset? She jumped when Lord Conrad took her by the arm.

“Prudence, this is Mrs. Harper, our housekeeper. Mrs. Harper, this is Prudence, my nieces’ lady’s maid. Please show her to the servants’ quarters and help her settle in. Her things will be brought up later.”

“Yes, sir.”

The woman took a firm grip of her elbow and led her around the corner of the building. Prudence glanced back in time to see Victoria and Rowena staring at her, their mouths open.

One of the footmen, waiting to help Rowena and Victoria down from their coach, also watched the scene unfold with his mouth agape. He almost started after Prudence but the footman next to him gave him an elbow and he fell back into his stance.

“Where is Mrs. Harper taking Prudence?” Victoria asked, a sense of urgency to her voice, just as Prudence was escorted down a steep set of stairs and through a small side door.

The servants’ entrance.

If she didn’t know where she’d stood before, she certainly did now.

ALSO BY JANE FEATHER

TWELFTH NIGHT SECRETS

RUSHED TO THE ALTAR

A WEDDING WAGER

AN UNSUITABLE BRIDE

ALL THE QUEEN’S PLAYERS

A HUSBAND’S WICKED WAYS

TO WED A WICKED PRINCE

A WICKED GENTLEMAN

ALMOST A LADY

ALMOST A BRIDE

THE WEDDING GAME

THE BRIDE HUNT

THE BACHELOR LIST

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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