Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
With a small divided tray on her lap, Tamsin carefully picked up several small beads with her needle.
She had not touched the beads in ages, thanks in part to the attention the younger children needed—but with their current sartorial dilemma, beading an older piece of frippery to make it new again was an excellent reason to take up a favored past-time.
It required enough concentration to distract her, yet she could still take part in the conversation of her stepmother and sisters.
No one could fault her for idleness or being uncommunicative.
“I cannot see how I am expected to go about my life as though everything is perfectly normal,” Daphne muttered, sitting at the table in the room, turning pages in a fashion journal. “I will have to wait until I am twenty for a proper coming out.”
“Father only said you could not have the gown, not that you had to delay your first public ball.” Seraphina drew in her sketchbook, attempting to amuse them by illustrating a cat wearing a waistcoat and tall hat.
“We can certainly make over something well enough that no one notices the gown was worn before.”
“No young lady should have to wear a made-over gown for her first official ball.” Tamsin’s stepmother huffed and paced from the window to the table and back again with a scowl. “Oh look. A horse and rider. Likely another debt collector asking your father for the very food from our mouths.”
Tamsin winced, and she glanced at her sisters to see varying shades of distress on their faces.
Quickly, she said, “I believe those usually come by normal post, Mama. It is more likely from a friend of father’s, inviting him somewhere.
Or perhaps a note from Charles about expecting him for dinner. It is Wednesday, though.”
“Chocolate cake,” Pearl and Daphne said at the same moment, then grinned at each other.
Good. Those two were soothed, at least.
Seraphina rose and approached the window to stand next to her mother.
“That horse is too fine for a normal messenger, let alone someone sending notices of debt collection. I think he must be a servant of a gentleman.” She gave the matter a careless shrug and no more thought as she returned to the table.
“Tamsin, are you certain beadwork is the best answer for those sleeves? It will take you hours and hours of work.”
“Oh, but it is enjoyable work.” She poked the needle into a pincushion, enjoying the repetition. “It will certainly cheer the dress up a bit, and in these colder months I think fires and candlelight will set the beads to twinkling beautifully during small parties.”
“We will only ever attend the ‘small parties,’” Pearl said, gaze returned to the illustrations Daphne studied. “When will you come to the assemblies with us? I would wager there are more people than Lord Hartwell who have no idea you exist.”
Tamsin bit the inside of her cheek and lowered her gaze to the gown again, running a hand along the few completed rosebuds she had beaded. Why had she told them the details of that conversation?
The moment the baron had left without once stepping into the house, all three of her grown sisters had descended to discover what he was like. She had been honest, even though she hadn’t really understood why he had spoken with her during Mr. Holly’s visit.
“He knows she exists now,” Daphne, her mind still on balls and courtship, spoke with relish. “One of the most eligible bachelors in Yorkshire stood in our garden, speaking to our sister, with hardly anyone else present.”
“Except his dogs,” Tamsin interrupted before another word might be said to implicate impropriety or special notice. “And our ducklings running about, with less grace than the animals—”
A knock on the front door echoed through the house. The messenger had arrived on the doorstep. All of them turned to the sound.
“Fiddlesticks.” Anne put one hand on her hip and looked at the doorway of the morning room. “I must know what news could possibly require a private messenger to ride to our house at this time of the morning.” She marched out the door, chin up, brow furrowed, the very picture of determination.
“Oh dear.” Daphne giggled. “What if it is from Lord Hartwell?”
Tamsin sighed and shook her head. “Daphne—”
Seraphina took up the teasing. “What if he wishes to bring his dogs to our meadow again? Obviously an excuse to see our Tamsin again.”
“Seraphina! Really!” Heat rose up the back of Tamsin’s neck. “Do not encourage her. I haven’t any notion that Lord Hartwell has given me a single thought. He simply wished to show a kindness to the children, and he is Mr. Holly’s friend—”
The door burst open, Anne charging in with greater exuberance than how she had left. She waved a single square card in the air. “Lady Hartwell is coming to call upon us. Today. In an hour’s time. Lady Hartwell!”
All four of the sisters went still as statues. One could have easily painted a portrait of the scene and called it ‘A Startling Social Call.’
Tamsin rose first, crushing the gown in her hand. “The baroness? Coming here? But why?”
“Because her son likes you—” Daphne started, but Seraphina covered her younger sister’s mouth with one hand, eyes wide.
“Do not tease,” she said quickly. “Not now. This is serious.”
Pearl had risen and ran to her mother’s side, gently lowering her mother’s arm to read the card. “She does not give a reason beyond wishing to make the acquaintance of the ladies of the household.” Her brow furrowed. “Mama. Why is a baroness coming here?”
Anne looked up at Tamsin, forehead creased and lips pursed. “Are you certain you told me everything about the conversation with Lord Hartwell?”
“Everything,” Tamsin repeated, holding the half-adorned gown to her chest protectively. “We—we spoke of the dogs and children and York.”
Shaking her head, Anne tucked the card in her bodice.
“There is no time to puzzle upon it now. I want all of you to change, at once. Best day dresses. Do hurry. We must tidy this room, too.” She shook her head.
“Oh, goodness—we need tea. The best. Tamsin, go to Cook, explain we have a guest of great importance coming, and then dress. You too, Daphne. A baroness visiting is an excellent opportunity for you to practice receiving calls. Hurry, girls.” She started waving her arms rather like a woman herding geese.
“Heavens, we must make a good impression. This could be an important moment for all of you. Think, knowing a baroness! Our invitations could improve, your prospects as well, and think of the parties and teas! Hurry now.”
They hurried, nearly running shoulders into the doorframe, and Pearl tripped on Daphne’s skirt as they rushed to the staircase. Tamsin and Seraphina exchanged a look before Seraphina ran up behind them, and the elder went to the kitchens.
At least the good tea had been purchased before the news of their financial troubles, and Mrs. Godfrey already had her chocolate cake ready. Tamsin made the decision then and there for the cake to be served—Charles would simply have to make do without it that evening.
With the kitchen orders made, she returned to the morning room. She could dress after her sisters. Tidying their things away quickly was a better use of her time.
And as the time for the baroness’s arrival approached, they settled with relative calm.
Anne took her chair by the fire, back straight, genteel smile at the ready.
The sister of her chair remained unoccupied for their guest. The three younger sisters arranged themselves on the settee with varying degrees of success: Seraphina on one end, holding a book too close to her nose; Pearl in the middle, running her hands down her skirt to smooth wrinkles Tamsin saw no evidence of existing; at the other end, Daphne kept folding and unfolding her hands then smoothing her hair.
They were lovely. All three of them, the pretty starlings their father had named them.
And then there was Tamsin. She took the chair nearest the window, where the light was best and the door was visible. The room faced the lane where the baroness’s carriage would shortly arrive, giving her the responsibility of telling the other ladies exactly when it came into sight.
“I am certain this visit signifies something,” Seraphina said, eyes still on the book she was not reading. “Tamsin, you must have an idea of what this is about.”
“I have already explained that I am as surprised as the rest of you.” Tamsin looked away from the road to study the back of her sister’s head. “Perhaps Lord Hartwell said something about our family that made his mother wish to know us?”
“That is entirely possible.” Anne adjusted a small porcelain milkmaid on the table at her elbow. “Finally acknowledging us as suitable for her social circle will be such a benefit to all of you girls.”
Tamsin shook her head slightly and returned to watching for the carriage.
All of them? Not likely. For one thing, she had no desire to gad about in York’s Society when her younger siblings needed someone to look after them. Her parents were not doing so, and there was no governess.
Then there was the financial matter…
The carriage appeared, and with it, her sense that something beyond her understanding was happening. Her stomach clenched unpleasantly, and she had to take a deep breath in and out again before she could announce, “The carriage has turned onto our lane.”
There was a general gasp, and she smiled without turning to look at her family. At least all of them were cognizant of the strangeness of this visit.
“Now, ladies, remember your manners. Lady Hartwell is a baroness. She will expect all of you to behave appropriately. Do not slouch. Do not cough. Do not interrupt when she speaks, and only speak when spoken to.” Anne’s litany of proper behavior made it sound as though none of them knew how to behave in public.
“Keep your hands still, Daphne. Put down that silly book, Seraphina. Goodness me. What are you even reading?”