Chapter 7
Hester had dared to request a room shared with Ellen to look after her.
And luckily the request had been received with no judgement and quick ease.
It seemed to her that the Briarwoods preferred closeness to distance and did not think poorly of the idea of assuring someone’s fears through the night.
And the truth was she and Ellen had shared a room since she was small. It was the habit of aristocratic families for children to sleep with their caretaker. Ellen had been hers.
Now she would be Ellen’s.
She was so grateful to have been bundled upstairs into a fine room last night with no mold or damp.
And here in the bedchamber with its warm blankets, crackling fire, soaring ceiling, clean walls, and beautiful morning light spilling in through the curtains, she felt hope for the first time in a long time.
It was a strange feeling when combined with the one Captain Briarwood insisted she not feel. Failure. No matter what Captain Briarwood said, she did feel as if she had failed, and yet she supposed if she had failed, this was a wonderful place to find herself.
Alabaster purred at the end of the bed, curled up as if he had found heaven. He seemed to have given his mark of approval of the place with his complete sense of ease.
She smiled tentatively at the cat, gave him a few strokes on his fluffy back, pushed the covers back, and sat up on the down-stuffed mattress.
On a chair across the room, she was shocked to see that clothes—a beautiful soft purple gown that would fit the mourning colors she chose to wear—had been laid out.
Her mouth dropped open as the realization hit her. She must have slept hard, for she had not heard anyone enter.
Ellen was beside her in the bed. She had decided that it would be best to sleep next to Ellen to make certain that the older lady was all right. And at present, Ellen was sleeping gently and calmly.
Thank goodness! The physician had assured them that nothing was truly amiss with Ellen and that she’d be healed with a little care and time.
As if she could sense Hester’s gaze upon her, Ellen opened her eyes slowly, perhaps fearing waking from delightful dreams.
“Oh, Hester,” she gasped, “it’s real.”
“Yes, it is real.”
Ellen rolled onto her back, stretched out her arms, and gaped at the gilded ceiling inlaid with elaborate stucco work. “I can’t believe I’m sleeping in this room,” Ellen blurted.
Hester smiled. “Well, you are.”
Ellen’s face screwed up with confusion for a moment. “I shouldn’t be. I’m merely a—”
“You are my dearest friend,” Hester insisted. Like Captain Briarwood had with her, she refused to hear Ellen speak poorly of herself. “You are my only friend. You belong here with me, unless you’d like to put me up in a servant’s room, which I probably belong in.”
Ellen poked her. “Stop it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a servant’s room,” she pointed out.
“Of course not.” Ellen burrowed under the covers and let out a contented sigh as Alabaster climbed over to her and nestled in. Ellen pulled him close and scratched his chin. “But let’s enjoy this delightful feeling. We can always go back to a tidy but spartan room once we have fortified ourselves.”
“Of course, Ellen,” she said, unable to stop her growing smile. And she couldn’t recall feeling like that in some time. Smiles had been few; now they seemed many.
Ellen stretched again. The cat stretched too.
Ellen was already looking a great deal better. Color had come back to her cheeks, though her bruise was now quite green.
The physician last night had prescribed rest, good beef tea, and cold compresses. And of course, a sense of safety.
There would be no leaving Heron House, not until Ellen was healed, feeling secure, and ready to go out into the world again. They probably wouldn’t leave until the rooms above her shop were ready, because she was never going to put Ellen in a situation like the previous night again.
And the truth was the dowager duchess had made it clear to Hester that none of the house would support her putting herself in such danger when she had friends to help. Because according to the dowager duchess, Ellen had gotten off quite lightly, given that section of town.
She swallowed, grateful that she had been given so many blessings and was now spared even further pain. Ellen’s incident had been a warning, and she was glad she had heeded it.
She stood slowly, went to the water basin, and poured out cold, fresh water, a luxury they hadn’t had where they’d been living, and splashed her face.
“Do you think we can go down to breakfast?” Ellen asked as their cat curled up on Hester’s pillow, going back into a most pleased sleep.
Hester used a piece of linen to towel her face dry. “Oh, I think it would be a very good idea indeed.”
And at that, Ellen’s stomach grumbled. As if in sympathy, Hester’s did too.
“Do you think they shall have toast and tea for us?”
“Oh, Ellen.” She propped a hand on her hip and faced her friend. “I think they shall have scores of things at Heron House.”
A wave of apprehension rattled through her, and she bit the inside of her cheek. She had not been a guest in a house like this in some time, and she felt quite ill at ease. Though she knew that was silly.
But this was not the sort of life that she’d wanted for herself again. And yet here she was. She was about to go down the hall to the breakfast room and be a lady.
“Shall I help you get dressed?” Ellen asked, pushing her blankets back.
“You can help me with a few buttons, and I’ll help you with yours.”
For clothes had been laid out for Ellen too. A fine gown of good fabric. With many buttons! Something only a lady’s clothes had because it usually required a maid to fasten them, or at the very least, a female companion.
Quickly, they assisted each other, just as they always did when getting dressed. But Hester soon realized that the gown that had been laid out was a little bit more complicated than what she had become accustomed to in the last years.
“It’s so beautiful,” Ellen breathed, stroking the lace at the collar.
“Yes, it is,” Hester agreed. The purple silk rested easily on her frame and it felt like heaven to the touch. Even though it had not been tailored for her, it skimmed her body as if it had been.
She stopped in front of the mirror and sucked in a surprised breath.
She looked like someone else. Her hair floated about her shoulders and she did look pale.
But she also looked finally well rested.
She had not realized how poorly she had slept these last months in their most recent place of residence.
And Ellen looked so much better after a good night’s sleep on a soft bed with warm covers too.
She helped Ellen button the deep blue gown that had been laid out for her. And Ellen let out a yelp of astonishment when she looked at it. “I can’t wear this.”
“You can, Ellen,” assured Hester, pressing her hands into her friend’s shoulders. “It is the only thing they’ve put out for you.”
It was a soft silk, beautifully embroidered with golden hummingbirds. And Ellen’s excitement was palpable. She turned this way and that, admiring herself. “In all my life, I have never worn a gown that cost as much as I’ve made in a year.”
Hester laughed, but it was half groan because it was true. Ellen’s estimation was clever, indeed, and telling about the world. The gown might’ve been worth that much or more, but it didn’t really matter.
But she wouldn’t think on anything that might bring her sorrow in this moment.
This moment, here with her friend, thrilled with the clothes she was wearing, was the only moment that mattered.
Hester had to choose to leave the pain of the past behind. If she did not, her time at Heron House was going to be all too bleak. So she took Ellen’s hand as soon as they had finished doing up each other’s hair and they slipped on their shoes.
The shoes were slightly tight, but she was relieved to find that the matching purple slippers did fit.
And Ellen oohed and ahhed over the soft blue leather that now encompassed her feet.
They headed out into the hall and began making their way down. She had to bolster herself. She felt so odd, as if this was still second nature. She was a mix of contradictions.
This was the world she had known for years. But she did feel slightly strange coming back to it.
She heard voices down below and she swallowed. Hester prayed she would not have to explain herself or her recent history, but she knew she might have to. And as soon as she and Ellen paused outside the breakfast room, there were laughs and giggles and someone came barreling up behind them.
A young lady of about eighteen years of age, who was laughing and running from a young man.
She turned and threw something at him. “Enough, Perseus,” she gasped. “You are going to make me late for breakfast. And I’m determined to eat heaps this morning. I am exhausted from last night’s revels.”
Perseus arched a brow, his shirt open at the neck and his navy-colored waistcoat open as if he couldn’t quite bear being fully done up yet. “That’s because you made every man dance circles around you.”
“As they should,” the young lady said, and then she stopped dead in her tracks before them. She beamed. “Oh, how do you do? I’m Phoebe. This is my cousin Perseus. You must be our new guests. We always have guests, and the more the merrier.”
Ellen looked nervously between the two because she had never been introduced as company before. Certainly never as a guest in such an establishment.
Hester cleared her throat and decided all she could do was jump in. “This is my dear friend Ellen, and I am…” She stopped herself from gulping.
“Lady Hester,” Phoebe supplied, folding her slender hands behind her back, which caused her apricot skirts to sway.
“Yes, that’s correct.”