Summerset Abbey (24 page)

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.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

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.

Pain and guilt stabbed at her stomach. Funny how those emotions could always be felt, no matter how big the void inside of her was.

Then the orchestra started up and Colin claimed her before anyone else had a chance to. Rowena enjoyed dancing, and if dancing could drown out the pain she felt or the thoughts that hummed about her mind like useless bees, then she would dance until the sun came up.

The orchestra turned out to be quite good, and played classical tunes as well as the more modern, piano-driven tunes such as “Glow Worm,” “Moonstruck,” and the “Lily of Laguna” that Victoria loved so much. She danced mostly with Colin, whose keen sense of humor, open admiration, and undemanding conversation made him the most agreeable of her dance partners. Too many of the other young men wanted to flirt with her or impress her with their pedigree. After her father’s industriousness and his passion about his work, these young men, who did nothing, seemed lifeless and insipid. And none of them could come close to holding a candle to Jon, whose love of flying made him the most compelling man she’d ever met. She wondered whether he liked to dance. She closed her eyes and imagined that it was Jon’s arms around her, whirling her about the dance floor. For a moment her breathing shortened, until the music stopped and she realized it was just her cousin.

Sebastian claimed her moments later. She didn’t mind dancing with Sebastian, either, because she suspected his interest lay elsewhere and he had other motives besides wanting to dance with her.

The music hadn’t played four bars before she was proven right. “Why isn’t Prudence here?”

His voice was flat and Rowena stiffened in his arms. What had Prudence told him? That Rowena was the horrible sister who had stuck her in a servant’s role and then left her there? What could she say? That the accusations were true but she hadn’t meant any of it, so sorry? They had gone halfway around the dance floor before she finally responded. “My aunt would not welcome Prudence here.”

“And you don’t find that unconscionable?”

“What would you have me do about it?” she flared. She glanced around to see whether anyone had heard her. Lowering her voice, she continued. “The only way I could get my uncle to accept the idea of Prudence coming with us was to tell him she was our lady’s maid.”

“You could have left her in London.” His voice was accusatory and she winced.

“To do what? Uncle Conrad wanted to sell our London home.”

“He
wanted
to sell your home? He doesn’t now?”

Rowena bit her lip. She did not want anyone else to know that the house had been let out until she had a chance to tell Prudence. Prudence already felt betrayed. If she found out . . . “That’s not what I meant. I’m sure he is just as eager to sell our home as he was then, even though I have begged him not to. Besides, Lord Billingsly, what is your interest in all of this?” Rowena turned the tables on him, desperate to dodge this line of questioning.

He stared over her shoulder, his jaw set and his mouth firm. For several moments they whirled in silence as the “Blue Danube” played. There were so many dancers reflected in the mirror, twirling in so many brilliant colors, that it almost looked as if they were dancing inside a kaleidoscope.

“Would you believe my interest is impersonal in nature, or perhaps I merely have an unexplained interest in the treatment of servants?”

Rowena tilted her head back to get a better look at his face. The sense of humor she had noticed before revealed itself now in the curving of his lips, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which held sadness in their dark depths. She shook her head. “No, I actually wouldn’t believe either of those things.”

“I didn’t think you would.” He drew in a deep breath before speaking again. “The truth is, I have found Miss Tate captivating beyond all normal reason and have since the first time I laid eyes on her. I dearly wish to get to know her better. Unfortunately, circumstances being what they are, I’m not sure that is possible, and at the end of every encounter I end up feeling either foolish or like a cad.”

Rowena’s heart constricted. She’d had no idea what events she would put into play by her careless bargain with her uncle. But what other choice did she have? “Prudence is special. Far too special to be put in the position I have unwittingly placed her in.”

“Then why did you?”

His voice was as short as the question and Rowena pulled her hand from his just as the music ended. She sensed his frustration and was sorry for it, but honestly, she couldn’t be held responsible for one more person’s misery.

“We were losing our home on top of just having lost our father. Should we then lose our sister, as well?” She whirled around to leave but he caught her by the arm.

“But isn’t that exactly what you’ve done? Haven’t you lost her just as surely as you lost your father?”

She jerked her arm out of his hand and stalked off, tears stinging at her eyes.

A bell sounded and her aunt Charlotte stood near the orchestra and clapped her gloved hands softly. When the crowd quieted, she gave a gentle smile that belied the steel underneath the ladylike exterior. “I would like to personally thank everyone for coming. My husband and I feel so blessed to have so many wonderful friends. It’s now time to light the Buxton family Christmas tree. Please help yourself to a glass of champagne and my husband will make a toast. There will be a buffet at the far corner of the room after, and of course, the dancing will go on for hours yet.”

Rowena wanted to sneak out of the ballroom and go hide in her room, but she couldn’t possibly do it now. She had committed to be involved in the prank and she couldn’t back out. She took a deep breath and, as nonchalantly as possible, slipped a handful of firecrackers from the miniature velvet bag she wore attached to her wrist. Victoria, Elaine, and several other young women did the same thing. If anyone noticed the little velvet pouches the young women carried on their wrists as they used to carry dance cards, they no doubt thought it a new fashion. The pouches were Elaine’s idea. They not only allowed them to sneak in a large number of firecrackers, but they also let the women take an active part in the prank. And to think Elaine used to be such a starchy young miss.

There was a flurry of activity as everyone snatched fluted crystal glasses from the servants circulating in and out of the crowd. Not looking her in the eye, Sebastian passed her quite close and bumped her gently as she passed him the firecrackers.

As Lord Summerset began speaking, the young men of the Coterie began moving casually to different points around the room. Elaine had been correct—there were so many candles about the room that lighting the firecrackers wasn’t a problem.

Rowena’s uncle came to stand next to his wife and slipped a hand about her waist. They stood together, tall and statuesque, regal in their bearing and mien. Together they were a shining example of privileged British aristocracy. “As my wife says, Providence has seen fit to bless us with so many good friends to celebrate the Yuletide season with,” Lord Summerset began. “Let us forget all our cares, such as the labor movement”—he paused as many of the men laughed—“and enjoy ourselves. A toast to all that is good about our fair country.” He held up his glass and everyone held up their glasses before drinking.

Rowena clutched her champagne glass but didn’t raise it to her lips. As everyone took a sip from his or her glass, the multicolored lights on the eighteen-foot tree lit up in a rainbow of brilliant colors. There was a gasp of appreciation from the crowd moments before an earsplitting snapping and popping sounded from all corners of the room.

In spite of having braced herself for it, Rowena still jumped and several women screamed. One old woman fainted as a thick smoke wafted through the room. For a few moments the noise was deafening and then it waned after the last of the firecrackers died down and the crowd realized what had happened. Only someone was still in hysterics.

Everyone turned toward the balcony to where a cluster of servants stood, watching the ball. Prudence, still in her finery, stood with her arms about Susie, whose screams slowly subsided into a terrified whimper.

Rowena stared at Prudence and her stomach plummeted, for the look on Prudence’s face was unlike anything Rowena had ever seen from her typically amiable friend. Two high spots of color stood out on her cheeks, and determination sprang from the set of her fine jaw and the slashing line of her mouth. Even from far away Rowena could see the fire in Prudence’s eyes as they blazed out at someone in the crowd. Rowena gave a quick prayer of thanks that the look wasn’t aimed at her. Then she followed Prudence’s gaze and with a shiver of deep apprehension realized the person Prudence was staring at with such scorn was staring back at her, just as fiercely.