Chapter 5 #2
Dinner was announced, and we proceeded into the dining room with the lieutenant escorting Mother and Russell escorting me, while Bridget followed alone.
I spent the entirety of dinner watching the man who had vexed me for weeks in Town, observing him interact with my family and play the perfect gentleman.
He did not tease me once the entire evening, not even in the drawing room after he and my brother had finished port.
Instead, he was amiable in conversation and indulged my mother in her questions about his Naval service.
I could not make sense of it. He had always treated my family with respect, but he had never shied away from pressing me to engage in a battle of wits, not even in company. What had changed? And, confound it, why did I so desperately wish to know?
The road into town was empty in the early hours of morning, and the only sound was the accompanying crunch of my shoes, and that of my maid’s, against the rocky ground. Unable to sleep, I had visited Father early this morning and then decided a short jaunt into town would settle my thoughts.
Or, at the very least, rid them of Lieutenant Paget.
The man was a conundrum I could not solve, which made me dislike him all the more.
“Where would you like to visit today, miss?” asked Rose, nodding to the parcel she carried. The scent of baked bread wafted from it.
Rose was near my age and had been hired on by Father after I left the schoolroom.
I liked Rose very well. She was an excellent conversationalist and knew precisely how to handle my often chaotic hair.
I could speak openly around her without fear of gossip spreading.
But then, all of the servants at Kenwick were loyal to my father.
“I thought of visiting the Pomfreys today,” I answered. “Mrs. Pomfrey recently delivered her baby. The other children would appreciate some fresh bread and sweetmeats, I think.”
“So we are for the shops first?”
“Yes. Let’s pick out some things for them.”
We arrived at the shop. Rose and I filled a box full of pastries and smaller treats.
It was difficult to restrain myself from doing more, but I could not press my luck with the Pomfreys.
They were in desperate need of help after Mr. Pomfrey passed in the spring, but the family was as prideful as they came.
They would not accept much in the way of charity.
I did what I could, which was always far less than what they needed.
Rose followed closely at my side as we neared the Pomfreys’ residence.
This part of town reflected the financial struggles of those who lived here, and it made Rose nervous, evident by her pinched expression, but I did not allow the slight discomfort and pounding of my heart to prevent me from visiting.
Father did what he could for the people here, or like in the Pomfreys’ case, did what they would allow. It was often a delicate balance.
I knocked on the door and was greeted by a young girl. She held a swaddled infant in her arms, and she relaxed at the sight of us.
“Miss Apsley,” she said softly, dipping a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to see ye.”
“I won’t keep you. We have brought bread and a treat for all of you—congratulations on welcoming the new addition to your family.”
“Thank you, miss.” She shifted the babe in order to accept the parcel from Rose. “Would you care to come in for a moment? I haven’t any tea to offer, but—”
“We would like that very much. A visit with you is more than sufficient.”
She nodded and welcomed us inside. I did not know the family well; they preferred to keep to themselves. This was the first time I had been welcomed into the walls of their small home. Perhaps if I continued our acquaintance, making small steps toward friendship, they would allow me to help more.
The girl paused once she had closed the door, and her brows furrowed as she glanced around the room. There was a table in one corner but not enough chairs to fill it. There was also a single sofa. Certainly not enough seating for visitors, and the girl seemed to only now realize this.
“How is your mother?” I asked, hoping to distract her from embarrassment.
“She is…” The girl sighed. “Not in the best of spirits. I worry for her. She is recovering physically from the birth, but she seems so far away. I think she misses Papa.”
“I imagine so,” I said, fighting the knot in my throat. “It must be hard for her, but she is fortunate to have you and your siblings.”
The girl smiled. “I do what I can for her while Lucas is out for work. He takes whatever jobs he can to support us. Sometimes, like today, my other siblings assist him.”
Lucas, I knew, was the oldest of the children.
That he now had the burden of the family’s welfare on his shoulders at such a young age pained my heart.
I would speak with Father about finding them work at Kenwick, although I was not sure if such an offer would be accepted by the Pomfreys.
Lucas was much like his father and had turned down charity from us in the past.
“Madeline?” a voice croaked from a room beyond.
“Oh! I was fixin’ Mama a tincture to help with her headache. Would you mind?” She held up the infant, a pleading look in her eyes.
I hesitated. Had I ever held a babe this tiny before? I thought not.
“Only for a moment,” the girl added, nearly begging now.
“Of course.” I smiled and held out my arms. The girl shifted the swaddled bundle into them and promised to return quickly. The babe wiggled, awakened by the transfer, and I bounced her gently.
Her. I peeled the blanket away from her cherub face to better admire the sweet girl.
She had a rounded button nose and light hair that reminded me of Bridget’s.
She cooed softly, and my heart twinged with something entirely new and unfamiliar.
The baby’s continued sounds drew out a smile that I could not hide, and a strange sense of contentment swelled within me.
“She is lovely, is she not?” Rose whispered.
“Yes. Beautiful and sweet.”
“Someday you will have one of your own,” Rose continued. “I hope you keep me around to see it. A babe with your red hair, curls and all.”
I forced my smile to remain in place. I planned to keep Rose with me as long as she was willing to stay, but there would be no red-headed babes. There would be no babes at all. I never planned to marry.
I glanced down at the sweet girl in my arms, and rather than a feeling of pleasant contentment, a sense of loss filled me. My independence meant no children, and I had always been at peace with that. I would not linger on the temporary sadness I felt now.
Some things required sacrifice. Independence was one of them.
I had never spent more time in confusion than I had the past three days.
Who was this new Lieutenant Paget, and what had he done with the vexing man I left in London?
He spent his mornings with Father. After that, he would leave with Russell to fish or hunt.
They returned late each afternoon and always in good spirits, whether their ventures were successful or not.
At night, the lieutenant was a perfect dinner companion, never speaking out of turn or prodding at my patience with remarks meant to agitate my nerves. There were hints at teasing, but they were so lackluster compared to what I experienced with him in Town that I was almost disappointed.
Almost.
At least when he intentionally poked fun and taunted, our conversations were livelier. More engaging. More interesting.
Lieutenant Paget had become a complete bore.
I tugged my lips to one side. He had not mentioned his missing friend again, and I was dying to know what had come of his conversation with my father.
Perhaps this less ebullient version of the lieutenant was simply due to his lingering concern.
I had no doubt that, whoever this person was, he cared about them greatly.
That much had been evident during our discussion his first evening at Kenwick.
As the footmen removed the last course and replaced the plates with a bowl of berry trifle, I determined to speak with him on the matter once we had all gathered in the drawing room.
Would he indulge my questions? Since the first night, all we had spoken of were shallow topics, like the weather.
If he asked me again when I thought the gray clouds might disperse, I would throttle him.
I dug my spoon into the custard and took a bite, staring at where he sat across the table from me.
He examined a spoonful of his dessert before taking a bite.
What was he playing at? Was this new gentlemanly behavior meant to confuse me so he could dupe me later and have a thorough laugh?
Or was he truly changed, perhaps by the situation surrounding his missing friend?
My eyes narrowed, and I brought my spoon to my lips once again.
This time, I got a mouthful of berries in addition to my custard, and I nearly gagged.
Currants. I despised currants. And Cook was fully aware, as I had spent no shortage of time in my youth complaining about them.
Nothing at Kenwick Castle was ever served with the nasty things in it, only as an optional sauce.
I forced myself to swallow. And swallowed again to ensure the food stayed down. Had Cook forgotten my distaste? I could hardly believe it.
One glance about the room was all that was required to find my answer. Russell was staring at me, his grin so wide it filled his entire face.
That devil.
“My, but Cook has outdone herself,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “Would you all not agree?”
“I would,” Lieutenant Paget replied with a genuinely appreciative tone. “Do offer my thanks to her for indulging me.”
Indulging him? What did he mean?
Russell provided my answer. “After the lieutenant learned just how much Netty loves anything with currants, he insisted we have them for dessert despite not being overly fond of them himself, which is why his custard is berryless. But I think it a very fine thing to sacrifice one’s preferences for another.
Such kindness is so often missing in Society.
I’m sure Netty appreciates his efforts.”
I took it back; Rus was not a devil. He was the very essence of evil.
“A shame I am already so full,” I said, setting my spoon down. “I was eager to enjoy it, but alas.”
“You cannot give up such an opportunity.” Russell did a slow job of licking his spoon clean. “After all, winter will soon remove it from us until next year. Besides, we would not want to offend our guest by disregarding his thoughtfulness.”
My jaw dropped, and I swung my gaze to Mother. I would find no ally in her, however, as she speared me with an encouraging look to eat my custard. Highly unfair, given she knew my dislike of currants and that Russell had most likely lied to Lieutenant Paget about it.
Hadn’t he? Or were they in on this together?
Days ago, I would not have put it past the lieutenant to request currant custard in order to aggravate me.
Now, I was unsure, especially with the way he stared at me with furrowed brows.
And as I stared back at him, his expression slowly morphed with realization.
A grin commandeered his features, and I knew in an instant my evening was ruined.
“I would be quite offended,” the lieutenant said. “I would hate to think you refused your favorite dessert simply for the fact that I requested it for you.”
My jaw clenched, and I glared at him. He may not have caught Russell’s lie before, but now that he knew, he intended to play into the scheme of revenge my brother had concocted. It seemed the London Lieutenant had returned at last.
Blast him.
I forced a smile. “As I said, it is rather unfortunate that I am so full and cannot—”
“Annette,” Mother chided under her breath, spearing me with another look. “You can surely manage a small bowl of custard.”
Mother did not wish to offend our guest, and that meant I would eat the custard or face the consequences.
I debated whether defying her might be worth it, but there were multiple reasons I needed to act on my best behavior.
I intended to speak to Father soon about releasing my dowry, as he promised.
Behaving in any way unbecoming of a lady would do me no favors in convincing him.
I must eat the wretched custard.
My nose wrinkled as I peered down at the little berries suspended in the cream. How I hated their tartness and texture.
A light chuckle across the table drew my attention. Russell was clearly enjoying my discomfort, but it was the amusement in Lieutenant Paget’s eyes that prompted me to ignore my revolting stomach and eat my dessert. I would not give him any extra satisfaction in this victory.
Clearing my expression of all disgust, I lifted my spoon to my mouth. At least I could rest easy knowing my own revenge would taste sweet.