Chapter Six #2
The final three introductions passed with no incendiary comments. Helen enjoyed playing the harp, Beatrice liked to read, and Lenora painted watercolors in her free time.
Once Lenora took her seat again, Nicholas’s mother clapped her hands together.
“I feel like we are getting to know each other better already. You must all get to know Nicholas as well, though. To facilitate this, he will accompany each of you on a tour through the grounds. Two today, two tomorrow, and two the day after that. You will each have an opportunity to talk with him individually while he shows you the wonders of Marstede. Jane, you shall be his first companion. Helen, you will join him later this afternoon.”
???
Once Jane and the baron departed the lavender sitting room, Sadie scooted forward on her seat.
“Madeleine.” Strange, but calling the dowager by her first name came easily.
As daunting as she was, with her perfect manners and composure, she was also approachable.
Kind. Perhaps even possessing a sense of humor.
At least, Sadie was more than half convinced the dowager had a sense of humor, even if she had no evidence.
The other women shifted, held their breaths, or sneered according to their natures as they waited to see how Lady Marstede would react to someone actually taking her up on the offer of informality.
Madeleine smiled, and the slight quirk to her lips had Sadie shifting the probability that she had a sense of humor higher. “Yes, Sadie?”
“I can’t help but notice that you talked about having many activities for us to do over the coming month, but only shared one.”
“Indeed.” At least one of them is brave enough to ask. “That is partially because my plans are still flexible at this point. I wish to get to know you ladies better and adapt to ensure you each have a chance to shine.”
Sadie had used her magic more today than she had in years.
She hadn’t probed for the thoughts people hid, reading only those that rose to the surface and pushed beyond natural shields, but she hadn’t tried to hide from those.
Nor had she traced the glyph on her amulet all morning.
She had seen the baron’s image of Helen as a be-gowned credenza in the corner.
She’d heard all of Abigail’s insults as each woman introduced herself.
And now she hoped to learn what to expect in the coming weeks, even as she knew Madeleine had no intention of sharing all her plans.
“Partially,” Sadie prodded, just to see how the dowager would respond. “And the other reason you haven’t told us?”
“Because I wish to surprise Nicholas, and don’t know if any of you would tell him, in turn, before it was time.”
“You can trust me,” Abigail piped up.
Young, with delicate features, rosebud lips, and a waist corseted to a size that made Sadie wince, Abigail was physically the woman who should catch the baron’s eye.
Yet he had barely glanced at her, and when his attention was forced to turn her direction Sadie could have sworn he’d rolled his eyes.
She didn’t blame him, but was somewhat surprised that he had looked past Abigail’s beauty long enough to care about her personality.
Then again, all five of the ladies his mother had invited were beautiful in their own way.
Sadie felt rather drab in comparison, even in the exquisite dress she was borrowing from the dowager.
Usually, she didn’t mind being unremarkable.
It saved her a great deal of trouble. But in Marstede Manor, she felt rather like a peahen surrounded by peacocks, which was a truly ridiculous comparison, she admitted, but that didn’t change the facts.
Jane and Abigail both had golden hair. Helen’s and Lenora’s locks were inky black.
Even Beatrice, who was also a brunette, had chestnut hair.
Then there was Sadie. Her hair wasn’t so much brown as it simply wasn’t blond.
Muddy blond. Pale brown. No one would compare any part of Sadie to precious metals, or gems, or, well, anything, in a poem.
Abigail had probably been described entirely with materials too expensive for Sadie to have ever handled in multiple sonnets.
“I’d never betray a confidence.” Even her voice deserved dedicated odes, sweet and just a little breathy.
But her thoughts were anything but sweet. I need to know how to win. I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to competing for the title of baroness. I should be a princess. A duchess, at least!
“Yes, my lady, we can keep a secret,” Lenora added. If I know what is coming, I can practice.
After less than a half hour’s acquaintance, Sadie already knew Abigail and Lenora were the most ambitious about winning Nicholas over.
Jane, she thought, hadn’t made up her mind.
Then there were Helen and Beatrice, the two near her age of twenty-seven, who guarded their thoughts even better than Madeleine.
Yet neither seemed eager, Sadie could say that much.
“It wouldn’t be fair for me to tell you five now, when Jane isn’t with us,” Madeleine answered. “But this evening I will privately answer one question from each of you, so think carefully about what you want to ask.”
With that, the dowager left the room.
“We should coordinate our questions.” Lenora suggested.
“If you have a question you’d like me to ask for you, I will,” Helen offered, her voice soft. “I don’t think I have a question of my own.”
“The most logical course would be for us to pool our knowledge beforehand, then determine what questions to ask,” Beatrice added. “However, if we all share our answers, then no one will have an advantage, which rather defeats the purpose of being allowed one private question.”
Lenora frowned. “Lady Marstede said this isn’t supposed to be a competition.”
Sadie had controlled herself when Madeline had said that, but this time she failed to stop herself from snorting. Everyone looked at her. “Oh, come on, how can this be anything but a competition? There are six of us and only one baron.”
Whether it was possible for any of the ladies to win the competition was a separate matter.
“Exactly.” Abigail’s chin rose. “I refuse to squander my advantage by sharing my question with anyone.” What should I ask? I need to win the baron’s favor. I don’t have enough time to seduce a different lord.
Sadie filed away Abigail’s thoughts, a hint of guilt for listening lodging in her stomach like a stone in the heel of her shoe.
She wasn’t sure if it was better that she had no intention to use what she heard to “win” or if it made it even worse that she had no reason not to attempt to block her magic from picking up those surface thoughts.
Too late to change her mind about allowing the information to trickle in now.
Without at least a touch of liquid to carry her own power, the only way she could make her amulet function would be to trace the glyph nonstop.
Perhaps she should stop wearing it at her throat, so she could keep it hidden in a pocket.
The risk of it falling out—getting lost or having the wrong side seen by someone else—was too great, though.
No one looked twice at the protection charm around her neck, assuming that the glyph they saw was all there was to it.
“I think her ladyship wanted us to cooperate.” Helen’s ebony brows drew together. “It is true that only one of us can marry Lord Marstede, but that doesn’t mean we must be enemies.”
“It’s a test,” Beatrice exclaimed.
“But I haven’t studied.” Lenora’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know I was supposed to study anything!”
“Not that kind of test. A test to see what type of people we are. Kind,” Beatrice looked from Lenora to Abigail, “or selfish?”
“Or perhaps it is a test to see how committed we are to becoming the next Baroness of Marstede.” Abigail huffed. “Or how intelligent our questions are.”
Sadie wouldn’t put it past Madeleine to test her guests, though in this case she suspected the dowager’s own motivations were two-fold.
First to get a sense of each woman’s personality based on what they deemed important enough to ask, and second to actually give them all a chance to learn something about the lord of the manor, who didn’t seem inclined to share his likes and dislikes.
Since Sadie didn’t need to know such things about Nicholas, she figured it wouldn’t help to cooperate with Lenora. “What questions should we ask, then?”
“Not while she is in the room,” Beatrice said with a glare directed at Abigail. “If she doesn’t want to work with us, then she shouldn’t benefit from hearing us brainstorm questions.”
“I don’t need to hear your stupid questions.” Abigail rose, lifted her nose higher than could possibly be comfortable, and flounced out of the room.
“I’m going to talk to her.” Lenora stood and followed the other woman.
Beatrice broke the silence. “Well, I’m willing to share answers with anyone but Abigail, except I suspect Lenora would tell her, too. So perhaps we should each focus on asking our own questions.” I just want to know if he’ll leave me alone if I marry him.
“It doesn’t matter to me.” Sadie shrugged. “We should tell Jane what we discussed either way, though. It isn’t fair that she missed this conversation. Helen?”
“Yes, we should tell Jane.”
“What about sharing our answers?”
“I already told Lenora I’d ask a second question for her.” I don’t care.
“All right, then.” Sadie looked back at Beatrice. “I suppose we can make our final decisions after talking to Jane?”
“That is logical. Shall we meet here an hour before supper? I’ll invite Jane when she returns from her walk.”
“Sure.”
Without another word, Beatrice pulled a slim volume from her pocket and began to read. Helen stared out the window, showing no inclination for further conversation, either.
Sadie stood. “I’ll just …”
They weren’t listening to her, so she didn’t bother to finish the sentence, leaving the lavender sitting room and heading for her own suite. Pippa should be at Marstede by now.