Chapter 4
Violet had an unexpectedly good night’s sleep, all things considered. It had taken her some time to settle. No frog or other unpleasant surprise having leapt out at her, she had finally accepted that Cecilia had just been toying with her.
She enjoyed a full and satisfying stretch, taking a deep, cleansing breath.
Her nose twitched suspiciously. What was that smell? It reminded her of… fish. Yes, fish. The odor was faint but unmistakable. Her room was too far from both the kitchen and dining room for either of these sources to offer an explanation for the smell.
Fully awake now, her curiosity piqued, Violet threw back her covers, swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and slid down to stand.
The smell grew ever so slightly stronger.
Taking a tentative step, she stopped and sniffed.
Violet repeated this process until she identified the direction in which the smell was strongest. She took several more steps, ending up in front of her wardrobe.
Carefully, she opened the door just enough to allow her nose to experience the full insult of the cupboard’s contents.
She slammed the door shut again. Had a mouse died in there?
But the smell was not musty. It did not reek of decay.
Well, not that sort of decay. The odor had declared itself—as unlikely as it seemed—to belong to a very recently deceased fish.
Violet was ready to throttle Cecilia. Her pranks were really crossing the line of friendship. She returned to the warmth and relatively odorless safety of her bed and rang for her lady’s maid.
A soft knock at the door told of Williams’ arrival.
“Come in,” said Violet. And then, “Prepare yourself, Williams.”
Violet once again walked across to the wardrobe and pried its door open an inch. The smell celebrated its freedom and swooped out to assault their senses.
Williams, while not a lady, had a perfectly functional nose. “Heavens, what a smell! Is that fish? Why is there a fish in your wardrobe, miss?”
“I was rather hoping you might know,” answered Violet. “It certainly wasn’t there when I went to bed. Someone would have had to sneak into my room while I was sleeping. Would any of the servants have spotted them, do you think?”
“I can ask, miss. But the damage has already been done. I’m afraid that terrible odor will have crept into all your clothes. We will have to wash every single item, save the delicates that were in the chest by the window.”
“What about the dress I wore yesterday?”
“It was already added to the laundry last night. It will be all crumpled. That is if the maids have not already begun the washing. Then it will be wet.”
“Oh!” cried Violet as further realization hit her. “My riding attire! Everything was in that accursed wardrobe! I am going to give Cecilia such a talking to! She really has gone too far this time.”
“May I suggest you retire to your bed while I remove the … er, item from your wardrobe? Then I will send your clothing to be laundered. I’m afraid nothing will dry in this cold and damp for some hours. Perhaps one of the young ladies would have something for you to wear in the meantime?”
“I doubt that.” Violet threw herself back on the bed in a sulk.
“Cecilia is too short, and Pearl is too slender. Even Mrs. Blayne could not help. She is more well-endowed in the bosom area than I. Am I truly to be stuck in my room in my nightgown all day? And miss out on the chance to ride? It was my suggestion, you know. And now…”
Violet stopped before she declared her envy of Pearl to her lady’s maid. There were some things she was not comfortable saying out loud, even to a trusted servant.
“I’m so sorry, miss.” Williams seemed genuinely so.
“I may have to speak to Mrs. Blayne about moving you to a different room. This cupboard will need to air. And it cannot do so while you are confined to the same room. It will be … unpleasant. And we will likely need to open the windows, which will bring in the chill. All in all, it is not practical.”
Indeed, it was not. To Violet’s infinite embarrassment, the servants had to spend the morning preparing a new room for her, including starting a new fire, and moving the remainder of her belongings that had not been affected.
They even had to bring her a breakfast tray upstairs because she could not dine with the rest of the guests.
Her clothing alone became an enormous additional task for the busy maids and Violet could hardly look any of them in the eye.
So, when Cecilia popped in to check on her friend, Violet was in a particularly unreceptive mood.
“I suppose you’re feeling very pleased with yourself,” Violet said the moment Cecilia poked her head around the door.
“I don’t know what you mean. I just came to see if you needed some company since you can’t come downstairs.”
“How noble of you.” Violet pulled her shawl more tightly around her nightgown, the open door leeching the precious heat from the room. “If only you had been as considerate last night.”
Cecilia frowned. “What should I have done last night?”
“I suppose it is more accurate to say what you shouldn’t have done.”
“What are you talking about?” Cecilia came inside and shut the door behind her. Violet did not bid her sit down, but she did so anyway.
Violet scowled at her. “I would have thought you would be having a good laugh at your success. But it was badly done, Cece. And now I cannot even leave my room, let alone go riding with Victor.”
Cecilia leaned forward, concern etched upon her face. “It is a terrible thing to have happen to you, but I don’t see what it has to do with me. I understand something has occurred to contaminate your clothing. Why would you associate that with me?”
Violet’s scowl deepened to a glare. “You and your need to amuse yourself have hurt me twice before. And last night you as good as threatened me with a third ‘little surprise.’ Clearly you have nothing better to do with your time. Nor do you value our friendship.”
Cecilia’s trademark moody glower appeared, chasing concern from her features and replacing them with angry indignation. “I see. You think me capable of hurting you on purpose.”
“Oh, no doubt you thought it would be hilarious. But you don’t always think things through.
I have to hand it to you. Waiting until I was asleep was clever.
I had let my guard down by then. You must have struggled to contain your urge to laugh as you dropped the fish at the bottom of my wardrobe.
I wonder if Cook appreciates her food being wasted for a prank. ”
“A fish in your wardrobe? That is not funny.”
“Indeed, it is not. I am glad you see it now. It would have been so much better if you had realized it sooner.”
“No, you don’t understand. I would never find that amusing. It would be thoughtless toward you and the staff.”
“Not to mention the temporary loss of my riding ensemble.”
Cecilia’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, Violet! Your time to connect with Victor! I would never rob you of that! I think the two of you are a splendid match. How could you believe I would betray your interests for a silly amusement?”
“You’ve done it before.”
“But that was before I knew of your feelings for him! Good grief! What sort of friend do you think I am?”
Violet’s conviction of Cecilia’s guilt began to waiver. “If not you… Who else would do such a thing? It was clearly not an accident.”
Cecilia barely hesitated before saying, “It could be Pearl.”
“What?” Violet could not have been more astonished. “Pearl has no taste for your playful humor. She has said as much. Why would she engage in a prank?”
“What if it were not a prank but a tactical move?”
“I don’t follow.”
Cece shrugged. “Pearl has an obvious interest in Victor.”
“What does that have to do with…?”
“And Victor spoke with great enthusiasm about riding with you today. He all but handed Pearl over to your brother. She would benefit directly from your entire wardrobe being inaccessible today.”
“But she is a gentlewoman! Nothing about her behavior has suggested she would take such extreme action to secure Victor’s affection. I think we can safely rule out such a thought. There must be another explanation.”
“You discard her as suspect too easily,” declared Cecilia.
“She has been away for some time, exposed to who knows what influences on the continent. How well do we truly know her anymore? If she has set her sights on Victor and perceives you as a threat, she may very well reach for schemes she might not otherwise have considered.”
“No,” Violet insisted. “I cannot picture it. Pearl is not made of such devious stuff.”
“And I am?”
“Well, yes.” Violet waved her hand as she explained. “You are a born plotter, Cece. Perhaps you see in Pearl what you are able to conjure in your own mind.”
Cecilia folded her arms and sat back, her lips squeezed into an unhappy pout. “I have the distinct impression I should be offended.”
“I only say you have the skill for plotting,” Violet added hastily. “I do not thereby mean you choose to use it for wickedness.”
“Hmph. I suppose I should be grateful for such a testimonial.” Before Violet could say anything in response, Cece added, “Here’s an idea. Perhaps we could suggest another day of riding and see if a similar incident occurs to disrupt it.”
Violet shook her head vehemently. “No, I could not bear another day trapped in my room. We must find a different way to determine whether Pearl is capable of such underhandedness.”
“I shall think on it. I might as well put my plotting skills to good use.” She threw a sulky glance at Violet.
“Oh, stop harping on it, will you? Would it help if I said I was sorry for doubting you?”
“As it happens,” answered Cecilia, “it would.”
“Well, then, I am very sorry for thinking you could stoop so low as to plant a fish in my wardrobe. “However,” Violet added, looking down at her nightgown, “I think I have been punished enough.”
“Then I shall stay and amuse you,” declared Cecilia, her smile returning.
“We shall send for tea and cakes and a pack of cards, and we shall play and talk while the others are forced to endure the cold. Even better, I believe Victor will sorely feel your absence. If this was a scheme by Pearl, I suspect it will backfire spectacularly.”
This thought went a little way to giving Violet much-needed comfort. Being on speaking terms with her best friend again and having her bright mind working for Violet instead of against her was a great boon. The hours passed quickly. Cecilia only left the room when they heard the riders returning.
“You’re deserting me?” Violet said unreasonably. The thought of Cecilia abandoning her to her own entertainment was unbearable.
“Only temporarily,” said her friend. “I want to see how the outing went and get a feel for what success, if any, Pearl has had with Victor. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Shortly” ended up being more than an hour later, each minute during which Violet felt the room grow smaller, not helped in any way by the winter sun sinking low in the sky particularly early.
Cecilia had not yet returned when a gentle knock on the door caused Violet to lift her head.
She rose and walked across the wool carpet, thinking perhaps it was a maid coming with a new tray of refreshment.
Instead, a folded sheet of paper was slid in under the door, followed by the sound of footfalls disappearing down the hallway.
Violet reached down, cautiously pinching the page at one corner. She had had enough of pranks. If this note was another form of torment…
It was not.
As Violet gingerly lifted the fold of the single sheet, three words swam into focus.
“You were missed.”
Beneath this simple statement, Victor’s name was scrawled in his distinctive hand.
For a moment, Violet doubted the note’s authenticity, but the writing had the narrow loops and closing curls that typically marked Victor’s written words.
Violet threw herself onto the bed, reading and rereading the short sentence, its warm sentiment burrowing deeper and deeper into her heart.
She crushed the page and its precious words against her bosom.
He had missed her! Enough to write and tell her.
It would have been quite natural for him to express this amicably in conversation, but her current sojourn in her nightgown made that quite impossible.
He must have felt the loss of her most strongly to have committed it to paper. She sighed happily. He had missed her…
In that moment, Cecilia came bounding into the room, almost slamming the door closed behind her in her haste to ensure their privacy.
“You should have seen Pearl’s face!” exclaimed Cece.
“It was a proper thundercloud! Apparently, Victor did not ride with her in your absence but chose to gallop off with Bartholomew! It seems your brother had promised her his company, and Victor said it was not his place to upset their arrangements! Ha! And then, when they entered the stable yard, Victor thanked Bart and said it would only have been more enjoyable had you been there. I thought Pearl was going to have some sort of quiet apoplexy! And then, Victor said, since you had been denied an adventure today, we should all go for a walk to the ruins tomorrow. And if none of your dresses were dry in time, he would lend you his shirt and trousers. Ha ha ha ha ha!”
Cece wiped tears of mirth from her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I think it is safe to say that Pearl is now truly apprised of where his affection lies. And if she was the one behind the fishy nonsense, her plan has failed beyond our wildest hopes.”
Cecilia suddenly stopped and stared at Violet. “What are you doing on your bed? Were you resting? Did I wake you? If I have, I think you will agree it was worth the disturbance.”
Violet shyly passed Victor’s note to her friend, who read it and immediately waved it about triumphantly before jumping up onto the bed too.
“He actually wrote and told you he felt your absence! There is certainly no doubt now—nor should there have been—that Victor is yours. Tomorrow, you should show him that his feelings are reciprocated. It would be unkind, nay heartless, to leave such a gesture from him unanswered.”
“I think,” said Violet, sitting up to retrieve her treasured page from Cece, “Victor’s words have given me courage. Tomorrow I shall not be timid. If Victor shows any encouragement, I shall give him the same.”
“A Twelfth Night engagement!” Cecilia cried with delight. “And you and I to become cousins! Yes, I find this all most agreeable. And I promise not to put any amphibians in your wedding shoes.” She grinned.
“You are too hasty with your conclusions,” replied Violet, but she was beaming. This day had morphed from being one of the worst she had ever experienced to one filled with delicious promise. And tomorrow. Ah, tomorrow. She could hardly wait.