Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story (2 page)

BOOK: Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story
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You seem heartless to me
...” Cynthia murmured under her breath.


And I am merciful,” Jemima went on. “All that I ask is that you allow us to enjoy a peaceful breakfast... without the plague of your presence. As far as I am concerned, you are no longer a part of this family.”


Mama!” shrieked Edith, who could not longer hold her tongue. “This is the height of rudeness!”

Cynthia rose from the table and collected her plate. “Edith, don't trouble yourself over me. I will not stay where I am not wanted.”

Georgiana and Jemima exchanged satisfied glances, then the mother said, “Good. I think we finally understand each other.”

With her plate in her hands, Cynthia stomped off. Her feet hammered against the ground, leaving no room to doubt her rage. How dare they treat her in such a way? Her stepmother's behavior would have her poor father rolling in his grave. If only he knew!

Cynthia did not cease her stomping until she arrived in the garden, which had become her place of solace and salvation. The flowers, the birds, and even the bees—it was a beautiful place of respite. Cynthia sat on a bench and started nibbling her food, and as she chewed, she watched the rose petals sway in the breeze. “I should take my meals out here from now on,” Cynthia said aloud. After all, a backdrop of lovely flowers was much more agreeable than Georgiana's sneering face.


Cynthia?”

When she looked over her shoulder and saw Edith, Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief. At the moment, Edith's company was the only company she could tolerate. “Yes?”


Do you mind if I join you?”


Not at all.” Cynthia scooted down the bench so her stepsister could sit with her. “Thank goodness I have not lost you!”


Of course not! We are still friends!” Edith said—and it was true, although they were an unlikely pair. There was an entire decade between them. Cynthia was one and twenty, Edith was one and thirty. Cynthia was beautiful and charming, whilst Edith was shy and plain. Nevertheless, they got along swimmingly, and that fact had always been a comfort to Lord Montforth. “I am so sorry for the way my mother and sister have treated you.”


Again, you do not have to apologize on their behalf!” Cynthia exclaimed. “Just because you share their blood, that does not mean you share their heart. You're a much better person than they are, Edith.” She shoveled another forkful of meat into her mouth, though she barely had an appetite. Ever since her father's death, eating was just as impossible as sleeping. As blue-deviled as she was, nothing seemed to matter anymore.


I only wish they would show you the respect you deserve! Lord Montforth would be so disappointed!”


That was my thought exactly,” Cynthia agreed with a sigh. “If my father was alive... well... I would like to think he would be saddened by their treatment of me.”


Saddened
doesn't even begin to describe it!” Edith exclaimed. “I think he would be horrified and utterly appalled! My mother should be ashamed of herself!”

Cynthia set her breakfast aside, for she no longer had an appetite for it. She stared into a row of flowers, momentarily losing herself in the brilliance of the colors. For a few seconds, she closed her eyes and listened to the wind swishing through the grass.

She was thoroughly enjoying the moment, until Edith said, “I have more bad news.”


Ohhh
,” Cynthia moaned. “I do not know if I can stomach much more. What could it possibly be!?”


Your cousin is due to arrive today,” Edith reported with a frown. “It was to be expected, I suppose. He wants to see the estate he has inherited.”


Roland...” Cynthia sighed as she uttered his name. “That
is
bad news.” When she looked over at Edith, Cynthia had the most pitiful pout on her lips. “In fact, I think it is much worse than you realize.”

* * *

Though Roland Eggert was the new Lord Montforth, he lacked the striking appearance of a lord. His sandy hair hadn't been combed in ages, his cravat was haphazardly tied, and his clothes were severely outmoded. He looked like he belonged in the 18
th
century; all he lacked was a powdered wig. He was quite portly, and he liked to stroke his stomach as he spoke. He had a perfectly round face, small, wide-set eyes, and a bulbous nose. He was the sort of man who would never be described as handsome, and though he was only six and twenty, he easily looked a decade older than his age.

As he stood in front of Montforth Hall, he rubbed his palms together and snickered. When he grinned, his fat lips parted, revealing the tremendous gap between his front teeth. “It's mine!” he shouted, for no one's benefit but his own, because no one was around to hear him. “I cannot believe this glorious place is
mine
!”

He waddled in the direction of the manor. If his gait was a bit peculiar, it was because his breeches were exceptionally tight. When the butler let him into the house and called him, “my lord,” Roland let out a trill of excitement. He could certainly get used to this!


I would like to speak to the Lady Montforth,” Roland announced. “The old dowager, not my wife. Actually, I don't have a wife! Yuk yuk yuk!” Roland's strange laugh raised the butler's eyebrows; nevertheless, he hurried off to fetch the lady for his new master.

Roland held onto his stomach as he toddled into the sitting room. He settled his considerable girth into a rocking chair, which creaked and popped beneath his weight. “I'm an earl,” Roland whispered to himself. “An earl.
Me
! Jolly good!”

Because he was alone, Roland decided it was a good time to pick his nose. There was a giant mass clogging one of his nostrils, and it was having an adverse effect on his ability to breathe. Unfortunately, the dowager entered unannounced, and when she first laid eyes on him, he had a finger buried halfway up his nose. Panicked, Roland extracted his finger, wiped it on his breeches, and rose from the chair. “My lady!” he exclaimed. When she entered the room, he saw that she was flanked by two other women, and one of them was extraordinarily beautiful.


Hello, Lord Montforth,” Jemima greeted him. “You will have to forgive me if I do not offer you my hand.”


You don't have to call me
Lord Montforth
, my lady,” Roland said. “That was your husband's name. I imagine it could get dashed confusing. Yuk yuk yuk!”

When she heard his strange laughter, Jemima was momentarily taken aback. “Then what should I call you, my lord?”


Roland will do,” he suggested. “Or Rolly. My friends call me Rolly.”

When Georgiana saw him stroking his stomach, she stuck out her tongue in disgust.


V-very well. Rolly it shall be, then,” Jemima said, though his nickname sounded unnatural when spoken in her rigid tone. “Allow me to introduce my lovely daughters, Edith and Georgiana.” Jemima stepped aside and motioned toward her daughters.


Edith and Georgiana. Edith and Georgiana. Edith and Georgiana,” Rolly repeated several times, because that was the only way he could learn names. “Which one's the pretty one?”

Jemima's eyes swelled. “Pardon?”


The
pretty one
!” Roland repeated, and he thrust a meaty finger in Georgiana's direction. “Is that Georgiana or Edith?”


That would be Lady Georgiana, my lord,” said Jemima. She exchanged glances with Edith, who looked a bit crestfallen. Most people could easily recognize that Georgiana had gotten all the beauty, but they were rarely tactless enough to point it out.


Lady Georgiana!” Rolly repeated with a grin. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”


Likewise,” Georgiana obligatorily replied, her voice thoroughly lacking enthusiasm.


Is Cynthia here?” Rolly asked. Something was dripping from his nose, so he wiped it on the sleeve of his greatcoat. His lack of manners earned him another repulsed grimace from Georgiana.


Indeed. She
is
here,” Jemima said. “I believe we share the same opinion where Cynthia is concerned. I received your letter, Rolly. I am so sorry to hear she jilted you.”

Rolly's sizable shoulders fell. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he raked a foot across the ground in shame. “I asked her to marry me once.”


I know. I read that in your letter.”


She rejected me!” Rolly whimpered.


I know. I know. And what a shame that is!” Jemima laughed. “Had she accepted you, she might have been the lady of this place right now!”


I could have made her happy!” Rolly declared. Though he had proposed two years ago, her refusal to marry him still affected him tremendously. “I could have made her the happiest woman in the world, if only she had given me a chance!”

Jemima swept forward and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “There there. Do not fret, my lord. I have thought of a way we might be able to... to deal with her.”

Rolly scratched his smelly hair. “What do you mean?”


Wouldn't you like revenge?” Jemima asked. “You could punish her for rejecting you, and I would also get what I want. You see... I really cannot tolerate the girl. She carries herself with an air of entitlement, and it grates against my nerves. The sight of her and her precious porcelain face makes my skin prickle with disgust! So... you could say... my idea would benefit us both.”


What is your idea, madam?” Jemima wiggled her finger, so Rolly leaned forward and let her whisper her plot into his ear. When she was finished, a grin split his lips, and the gap between his teeth made a second appearance. “Hmm... I quite like that! Where is Cynthia? Send her in!”

Jemima told the butler to fetch her stepdaughter, and he went to retrieve her posthaste. Georgiana and Edith had no idea what their mother was plotting, but Edith was certain she would not approve.


What is it, Mama?” Georgiana demanded. “What do you have in mind for Cynthia?! I need to know! Is it quite sinister?”


Patience, dear,” the mother said. “You will find out soon enough!”

When Cynthia arrived, and her eyes drifted to Rolly, she had to force herself to smile. Despite Rolly's distaste for his cousin, a goofy grin appeared on his lips. Ever since they were children, he had always thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. If only she would have him!


Marry me!?” Rolly squeaked. The question popped out of his mouth without a second thought. When she heard his hastily uttered proposal, Jemima gasped. An offer of marriage certainly wasn't what they had in mind!


Marry you?!” Cynthia repeated. “Are you serious, Roland?! Have we not been over this before?”

Roland collapsed to his knees in front of his cousin. He coiled his arms around her legs and pulled her toward him. Cynthia tried to free herself from his grasp, but he was holding onto her with a madman's fervor. She cast a desperate glance at Edith, but all she could do was shrug.


Marrrrry meeee!” Roland whimpered. “Please oh please oh... you'll consider it, won't you? It would make me the happiest man alive!”


Rolly!” Cynthia shouted. “No! No, I will
not
marry you!”


No?”


No!”


Is that a... a firm no or a reluctant no?” Rolly asked hopefully.


It was a firm no, I am afraid.”

Rolly finally released her legs and rose to his feet. He exchanged glances with the widowed countess, who gave him an encouraging nod. Jemima hoped his proposal was a last-ditch act of desperation, and now they could move on to the first phase of their plot.


Very well then,” Rolly said with a sigh. “Then I have something else in mind for you, my dearest cousin.”

Jemima stepped forward and addressed her stepdaughter. “Rolly and I have reached an agreement. I said I would never throw you out of the house, Cynthia, and I meant it. How could I possibly toss you out when I could put you to good use?”

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