5. Chapter 5
Lavender felt for the footman. “Mother, leave the man be. He was simply welcoming me here.”
“He was doing far more than that,” her mother hissed.
“I know it was never our intention to bring you here, but since you were unable to inspire greater feeling from another gentleman in our parish, we find the move a necessity. That man—” Lady Gardner threw a disgusted look over her shoulder. “Is invisible. Do you understand?”
“Yes, mother.” Lavender understood acutely what it was to be invisible. That didn’t mean she wanted it for anyone else. Besides, the ten seconds she’d spent in that footman’s presence had made her breathing hitch and her heart race. One thing was for certain: he was not invisible to her.
She glanced back at the footman. His back was to her, and he was muttering something under his breath as he tried in vain to rid his boots of horse manure. His shoulders were wide, his maroon coat pulled so taut she wondered that he didn’t split a seam. The fluttering in her heart increased.
She’d felt similar sensations before, not quite so strong, but they had been there with Mr. Lanscombe.
She gave each and every flutter a hard stomp as she followed her mother indoors.
Feelings like that were not to be trusted in any circumstance—especially if one found the servants attractive.
Lavender’s mother might not expect her to make a brilliant match—unlike her vibrant sisters, Lavender was always meant to live in the background—but she would most certainly demand the match be made to a gentleman.
No, Lavender would swat those feelings away just as she had the bee a few moments ago. All it took was practice.
Upon entering the drawing room, the duchess ran to Lavender and squeezed her so tightly, Lavender had a little trouble breathing.
“Oh, I am so glad you have come to accompany me this Season! When Rose asked if I might have the time, I dropped my honey cake, I was so excited. What fun we will have!” Her Grace seemed far more thrilled with the prospect of the Season than Lavender was.
Although they’d met previously, Lavender could not claim a close association with the Duchess of Gilfordshire. The dutchess’s brother had married Lavender’s sister, Rose, and Rose’s husband was also the Duke’s best friend, so there was plenty of connection.
“I am so grateful for your kindness to sponsor me at the last moment. We had hoped Rose would be able to help, but . . .”
The duchess laughed. “But she’s getting rounder by the day. You’ll soon be an aunt again. Keeping the schedule of a London Season would not suit an expecting mother.”
Lady Gardner sniffed loudly, no doubt to remind the duchess that there were more guests.
“Lady Gardner,” Her Grace subdued her smile and dipped her head toward Lavender’s mother. “I am so pleased that you have arrived safely. Please do come take a short rest before you continue on your journey.”
“That would be lovely, Your Grace. Come along, Ash.” She motioned toward an open sofa.
Ash put up a hand. “Actually, mother, I believe I’d like to take a short walk to stretch my legs.” He turned toward the duchess. “Might I be permitted to play in your garden?”
“A future earl does not play, Ash. He peruses,” Lavender’s mother corrected him.
Ash bowed in apology. “Might I peruse your garden, Your Grace?”
“Certainly, Lord Winberg. Allow me to show you out.” The duchess turned back to Lavender. “I’ll return shortly. Please take some tea in my absence.”
Lavender and her mother sat in the ostentatious parlor. The tea that had been set out for them could have fed four families. Lavender reached for a cucumber sandwich, but her mother swatted her hand.
“You must wait for the duchess to return,” she scolded.
Lavender shook her head. “But she said to take some tea in her absence.”
Lady Gardner pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin a fraction. “Yes, it’s good breeding of her to say that, but it would be rude to listen.”
What was Lavender to say to that? It didn’t make a lick of sense. So she nodded and made herself moderately comfortable in a yellow wingback chair while they listened to the ticking of a clock set on a side table.
When the duchess didn’t return, Lavender’s mother started to get agitated. “I hope Ash has not turned into a silly boy, asking a hundred questions again.”
Once more, Lavender did not say anything.
Ash was a boy, he wasn’t silly, and Lavender thought that was a small tragedy in his life.
He’d never been given permission to be silly.
Hopefully, going to school with boys his own age would help him become more relaxed and carefree.
He would be at Eton until Easter, when he had a break for the summer holiday.
She prayed school would give her brother more to think about than their ailing father and the responsibilities he would likely soon take on.
Thinking of her father made Lavender feel quite out of spirits.
She leaned more fully back into the chair and allowed her shoulders to sag with the weight of her sadness.
She knew her parents didn’t want any of the children at home as his condition worsened, but a part of her felt like she could do more good at his side than she could here in London.
She was meant to bring peace to their family, but the course they had set for her was an uphill climb.
Lady Gardner came and sat in the chair closest to Lavender’s. “You must not mope, Lavender. It is not becoming of anyone,” she barked under her breath. “And pull up your glove, child.”
Lavender straightened. “Of course, mother. Forgive me.” She pulled at her long glove until it was tight, a motion she did almost constantly to hide her scars.
“That is easily rectified and done. Now, before I leave, I want you to remember your goals.” She raised her eyebrow. “We do not know how long your father will survive. It would be best to marry quickly. But I cannot have you settle for a man that makes less than five thousand per year.”
“How am I supposed to know what every gentleman is worth? Ask him while we dance?” Even after years of acquaintance, she never knew what Mr. Lanscombe made in a year.
Lady Gardner’s gaze hardened. “Behave yourself, Lavender. Have I not taught you to censor your words? Do not draw undue attention to yourself by speaking your mind. This is no laughing matter. Use your resources. Ask the duchess and listen to the matrons gossip. There is information to be known for those who listen.”
Lavender measured her sigh so that it wouldn’t draw too much attention.
In reality, she wished she could sigh to the extent she felt, it would release her heavy feelings, but she’d been taught to act more moderately.
“I will do my best.” Besides, listening was one of Lavender’s only strengths.
It came naturally when no one noticed her presence.
“I have heard that promise before,” Lady Gardner lamented. “Rose and Bluebell both tried, but they did not accomplish what they ought to have in their marriages. You might be different. Find someone who will keep you comfortable, and with a title if at all possible.”
A title? No. Lavender dared not reach so high.
Not if she needed to marry quickly for comfort.
A titled gentleman would be looking for a love match or someone to enhance his social standing.
Lavender could do neither. She was not social, and she had resolved not to love again.
It was too big a risk and caused too much pain to endure after Mr. Lanscombe.
The duchess reentered the room and stopped abruptly. “I thought I asked you to take some tea while I was gone. Do you expect me to eat all of this on my own?” She laughed lightly. “I might be able to manage it, but I don’t believe it would be recommended.”
Lavender felt the corner of her mouth twitch. At least her sponsor for the Season had a sense of humor. It would likely prove valuable for them all with what was coming.
The women talked about the upcoming Season and the gentlemen that were known to be in town as they ate their sandwiches and fruit. Ash came in a quarter of an hour later, just in time to fill a plate with some biscuits and tarts.
Before she knew it, Lavender’s mother and Ash were back in their carriage and on their way to Eton. Her mother’s last words rang in Lavender’s ears. “Don’t make your father suffer more than he has to. Find yourself a husband quickly, someone respectable, mind you.”
As soon as the carriage pulled out of the drive, the duchess took Lavender’s hands in her own.
“I know this might be forward, but as Rose is my dearest sister-in-law, I feel claim to you as well. I know how demanding your mother can be and that this will be a difficult few months for you. But I am determined to make it fun as well. Every young lady should have a Season she can look back on with fondness.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Lavender fiddled with the lace of her skirts.
“Oh, and none of that Your Grace in the house,” the duchess pronounced. “I’ve been waiting for your mother to leave because I know how she feels about titles, but you are to call me Miriam.”
“I couldn’t presume—”
“You have presumed nothing. We are to be the best of friends this Season, and I cannot put up with being treated like an old matron with a bad knee.” She winked.
The smile that came to Lavender was as natural as the sun rising. “Then you must call me Lavender.”
A young girl poked her head through the doorway, dark curls framing a mischievous grin. “Did he leave?”
“Yes, Lord Winberg had to go,” Miriam answered the girl. “Come in Juliet. I’d like you to meet Lady Lavender Gardner. She is staying with us for a while.”
Lady Juliet came fully into the room. “It’s good to meet you, Lady Lavender.” She curtseyed flawlessly.
Lavender returned the gesture. “Thank you for having me.” She pushed her lips to the side. “How old are you, Lady Juliet?”
Juliet held up both hands to show on her fingers. “I’m six, but I’m bigger than Daniel. He’s only three. And Colin is just one.” She squeezed her hands together in front of her. “Colin is so cute. Probably the cutest baby you’ve ever seen.”
Lavender smiled. “I can’t wait to meet them as well. And you are the oldest sister. My, that makes you very important. Older sisters are such wonderful examples to their siblings.”
Juliet tipped her head to the side. “Oh, Daniel doesn’t listen to me.”
Miriam bent down so that she was face to face with Juliet. “Daniel doesn’t listen to anyone.” She rubbed noses with her daughter. “Is he taking his nap?”
Juliet nodded. “He got tired after playing with Lord Winberg. Nurse Bonnie is trying to help him sleep.”
Lavender felt her eyebrows raise on her forehead. She was happily surprised that Ash had decided to play with the smaller children. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
Miriam and Juliet showed Lavender up to her rooms on the third floor.
A servant was depositing Lavender’s trunks at the foot of the bed.
But not just any servant. Lavender knew that man’s large form.
It was the one who’d kissed her hand. Her body hummed with awareness anew.
She tried to stomp on her feelings. He wasn’t doing anything other than leaving her things in her room and then leaving again.
And then he looked up. His gray eyes reminded her of a storm preparing to unleash its anger. She wondered—just for a moment—if she could calm it. Then his gaze softened a moment before he looked back down at the floor.
How could a person’s gaze send a bolt of lightning through her? She swallowed as he stepped around her, bowing respectfully. Surely, she would become accustomed to his presence about the house as she did with all the other servants.