A Sisterly Regard (32 page)

"Do you like it?" Lady Mary asked her, after she'd stood a long
moment in stunned silence. "It is quite my favorite of all the guest
apartments. I thought you would be comfortable here, for it reminds me
of a forest glade."

"Oh, it is so grand. I shall become spoiled staying in so lovely a
room." She hugged Lady Mary.

"Mrs. Arbuckle is just across the hall and your parents are next
door." Lady Mary indicated. "Reggie and Mr. Martin are at the other end
of the hall. Now, I shall send Ellen to you, to help you unpack and change.
She is so excited, to be asked to be your maid while you are here. Her
dream is to become a fine lady's maid, or even a dresser. She is only
sixteen, but she has already proven to have a talent for hairdressing. I think
you will like her."

"You do not have to provide me with a maid. Mama's dresser
can assist me," Phaedra protested.

"But I wanted to. I also wanted to give Ellen a chance to prove
herself. My maid, Annie, is so jealous of her prerogatives that I have not
dared let Ellen wait upon me."

"Very well, but having my own maid will only increase the
danger of my becoming spoiled, you know. I shall be quite insufferable by
the time we return to London." Phaedra pulled the bonnet from her head
and tossed it upon the bed.

Just then a pale, rather homely girl in a maid's uniform entered
somewhat precipitously. Her breath was coming in short gasps. "Lady
Mary, am I late? Oh, I am." She curtsied. "I'm that sorry, mum. I was in
the kitchen when Mrs. Swinton told me the company was here. I ran all
the way, really I did." She turned a blushing face to Phaedra and smiled
tremulously.

"It does not matter, Ellen. This is Miss Phaedra Hazelbourne,
whom you will serve while she is our guest. Phaedra, I will see you later.
Can you find your way or shall I send a footman in half an hour?"

"Send him, please. I was not paying attention when you pointed
out the drawing room. It would not do for me to get lost on my way to
dinner."

"No, for we would then have to send out a search party, and you
might starve before we found you. This is a monstrous big house."
Laughing, Lady Mary let herself out the door.

Ellen curtsied again as Phaedra turned to her. "Oh, mum, I
really am sorry I was late. Would you want to bathe before supper? I can
have a tub up in a twinkling."

"No, I think I will settle for just a wash. Half an hour is scarcely
time for the tub. Perhaps just before I retire." Ellen helped her to remove
her pelisse. As the maid was hanging it in the wardrobe, there was a knock
on the door.

The girl dropped the pelisse and scurried to open it. "It's your
baggage, mum. Oh!" she cried as she stepped aside to allow the footman
to carry Phaedra's trunk and portmanteau inside. "Your pelisse! I'm sorry,
mum." She hurried to pick up the garment and this time saw it safely hung
in the wardrobe. "Shall I unpack, Mum? Which gown was you wanting to
wear?"

Phaedra took pity on her. "Calm yourself, Ellen. We have
plenty of time for me to dress, for I shall wear the yellow gown. It does
not wrinkle easily, so we should be able to just shake it out before I put it
on. Yes", she said when the maid located the dress, "that is the one. See
how the wrinkles fall out of it? Now, if there is some hot water, I shall
take the worst of the road dust off myself." She looked around.

Ellen's expression showed horror when she founds no water in
the pitcher on the commode. She begged Phaedra's pardon and ran out the
door. In just a few minutes, she re-entered, carrying a pitcher of hot water
and leaving a trail of droplets in her wake. Again she abased herself, and
again Phaedra told her to be calm.

The nervous little maid proved to be all that had been promised
as she assisted to dress and arrange Phaedra's hair. Apparently
apprehension and excitement had combined to make her seem
scatterbrained.

"I was that surprised, yesterday, when her ladyship called me in
to tell me I was to wait on you while you was here," she confided as she
held a mirror up. "Oh, Miss Phaedra, I shall do my best to please you.
You just be sure and tell me if I don't."

"I shall, Ellen, but do not worry. I am really very easy to
please," Phaedra replied, liking this plain but bubbly girl. "And you have
done my hair most attractively. Thank you."

"Oh, thank you, mum. I'll unpack your things while you're
gone, and you be sure and send for me when you come to bed, won't
you?" Phaedra started to say that she could put herself to bed without
help, but not wanting to hurt the obviously eager-to-please maid, she
agreed.

Mr. Farwell met her at the door to the drawing room. He
bowed over the hand she held to him, but instead of releasing it, he lifted
it to his lips. Turning it over, he pressed a kiss on her palm.

Heat exploded up her arm. Startled, she pulled her hand away.
"Don't do that!" She forgot her resolve to keep her temper with him, no
matter what he did. "Must you act the suitor with me? Can we not just go
on as we have?"

"I have only a fortnight to show you my sterling qualities,
Phaedra. If I am to be on my good behavior all the time, I shall be
thoroughly distraught by the time we return to Town. Surely you can
allow me an occasional lapse of decorum."

"I would have thought your lapses would have been more on the
order of losing your patience with me or giving me a scold," she
countered. "Or going to sleep while I am speaking to you."

"No, all those are my normal behavior. It is other behavior you
tempt me into, my love," he said, as he led her across the room to where
her mama and papa sat with the Duchess.

Phaedra thought it best to ignore the intimate appellation. "Oh,
Your Grace, thank you so much for inviting me here. I had never dreamed
that such a magnificent mansion could be comfortable as well as
beautiful."

"No need to be uncomfortable, just because you live in a pile
like this. I won't have cold bedrooms or draughts about my feet. You are
welcome, gel. Now, take that lanky fellow away and entertain him. I want
to visit with your parents."

Phaedra was thrown into Mr. Farwell's company the entire
evening. He took her in to dinner and was seated on her right. After the
men had drunk their port and rejoined the ladies, Lady Mary and Mr.
Martin joined Mama and the Duchess in a game of whist, while Papa
buried his nose in a book, saying he'd been wanting to read it for an age.
Even Cousin Louisa deserted her, saying that she had the headache from
the rocking of the coach and wished to retire early.

So Phaedra had to entertain her suitor alone until the tea cart
was brought in. She seated herself on a sofa near the fireplace. He
promptly sat beside her, his knees nearly touching hers.

Remembering her mother's advice on how to converse with a
gentleman, she first asked him about his interests.

"I pay visits to my friends, drive in the park, and visit my tailor
and my bootmaker. Occasionally I visit Tat's with friends, but not often."
His ubiquitous lace-edged handkerchief came into play. "The odor of
horse is quite unbearable."

"Tell me of your estate. You said it is near Oxford. What crops
do you grow?"

"Oh, dear me, I have no idea. Green ones, I suppose."

Gritting her teeth, she said, "Yes, I imagine so. Most plants are
green. Do you have an agent who manages it for you?"

"Of course. Do you think it will rain tomorrow? I thought I saw
clouds gathering as I came down for dinner."

"I saw no sign of clouds. What does it matter, anyway? If we
waited for clear weather, we would never go outdoors. This
is
England, you know." What an exasperating man. Just when she had
decided there was some substance to him, he blighted her hopes. He was,
without a doubt, a silly fop, without a thought in his head for aught but
frivolities.

"It is now your turn to suggest a subject of conversation, Mr.
Farwell. I have quite exhausted all of mine."

He rose and paced to the fireplace and back, moving with a
restless energy that was completely foreign to her previous impression of
him. When he reseated himself, it was in a chair at right angles to the sofa.
"Are you familiar with Sir Francis Beaufort's research on wind,
Phaedra?"

Astounded, she let her jaw drop open.

He smiled at her, a twinkle in his gray eyes, and slowly wafted
the handkerchief back and forth before him.

Finally she recovered enough from her astonishment to say, "I
have only read a little on the subject and understood less. I do remember
reading that he developed some sort of scale whereby wind speed can be
accurately measured. Do tell me more."

What followed was the most amazing experience of her life.
Reginald Farwell, the fop, expounded knowledgeably and at some length
on scientific research concerning weather prediction. She found the
information he imparted to be fascinating, and asked a number of
questions. The subject kept them occupied until they were interrupted by
Lady Mary who offered them tea.

Later Phaedra thought back over the evening. Who was the real
Reginald Farwell? The man who had so learnedly spoken to her of weather
research? Or the London fop?

The clouds Mr. Farwell had seen the evening before did indeed
bring rain during the night. The inhabitants of Verbain woke to grey skies
and a drizzle that promised to continue indefinitely. Despite the
depressing weather, Phaedra went down to breakfast feeling that the day
promised to be a very good one. A footman guided her to a bright,
cheerful room with white wainscoting below wallpaper of green and gold
stripes. Numerous green plants were on stands against two of its walls.
The third wall was almost entirely of windows, and the many panes, in
their white painted frames, looked out upon a colorful vista. Phaedra had
to look a second time to see that the wall of windows showed not the
outdoors, but a painted background of a sunny garden. Lady Mary, who
was seated behind a silver coffee urn, an emptied plate before her, laughed
at her expression of surprise.

"Do you like it? I so hate to awake to rain or grey skies, and so I
persuaded Grandmama to let me decorate this room. The craftsmen who
did the work thought I was out of my senses, but they followed my
instructions."

"I love it. An eternal springtime."

Lady Mary looked beyond Phaedra, greeting Mr. Farwell and
Lord Gifford as they entered, bringing the scent of rain with them. Both
men were dressed for riding and their hair was damp.

"Good morning, my love." Papa bent to kiss Mama's cheek.
"Too bad it's so wet. I know how you detest riding in the rain. There's a
little chestnut that I'd like to see you try. Phaedra, did you bring your
riding clothes?"

"Of course I did, Papa. Have you ever known me to go
anywhere without them?"

"Good. You can come out with us after breakfast. Never let a
little rain stop you from riding, have you?" He took his plate to the
sideboard, where he proceeded to fill it with an assortment of meats and
hot breads. "Farwell has promised to show me around the estate. Young
Martin has already gone out, and we're to meet him later."

"Thank you, Papa, but I do not think I will ride this morning. I
want to improvise some presses and prepare for an expedition to the home
wood this afternoon." She followed her father to the sideboard. "Mary
told me last night that there are usually quite a number of plants in flower
at this time of year. Mr. Farwell, would you care to accompany
me?"

He paused, a server in his hand. "If I have the strength, after
leading your father about the fields this morning, Phaedra, I would enjoy
exploring the woods with you. But what are presses?"

When he smiled at her, Phaedra experienced a glow of inner
warmth. "Real presses are bundles of paper and thin boards, held tightly
together with straps, into which I place plants to flatten and dry them. The
drying preserves the plants so they may be examined later," she explained.
"Mama did not allow me to bring mine to Town, so I will contrive
substitutes from newspapers and heavy books. Mary has offered a warm
closet off the kitchens for my use, and I intend to fill it with plant
specimens." She said the last with a hint of challenge to all and
sundry.

Her mama, whom she had expected to object to her planned
activities, merely said, "I hope that you will not become too wet while
you are collecting your plants, my dear."

"I will not collect if they are wet, Mama, but I do intend to see
where they might be, so I may return later to collect them." She glanced
at his highly polished boots. "Mr. Farwell, those boots will be ruined if
you come with me. Perhaps you can borrow some stout shoes. The paths
in the wood are bound to be muddy."

"I shall be appropriately dressed, I assure you," he answered,
smiling.

Phaedra finished her breakfast and departed the breakfast room.
After the door closed behind her, Reggie said to Lady Gifford, "Where is
your companion this morning, ma'am? Does she still have the
headache?"

"She never did, and you know it, sir. We were doing all we
could to ensure that Phaedra had to converse with you last evening." Lady
Gifford eyed him, quizzically. "Did you not appreciate our efforts?"

"I most assuredly did; but I do not need your efforts in my
behalf, my lady. If Phaedra does not herself choose to be with me, your
machinations will do nothing to advance my suit."

"Shall we not conspire against my daughter, then?"

"No, please do not. I believe I can keep her attention upon
myself as much as is necessary. If I cannot, perhaps I would not be the
husband for her after all." He gazed through the false windows, his cup
held against his chin. Last night he had retreated into his Town persona
without thinking, and had seen Phaedra's disgust writ plain on her face.
Today he was determined to be himself, no matter how strange it felt after
so many years of living a lie.