Once greetings had been exchanged, Albert turned to Miss Elwood, desperate to escape the twinkle in her cousin’s eyes as she studied Albert. No doubt, everyone had seen how he had been staring at Miss Elwood. He gave his future fiancée a small smile and offered her his arm.
“Are you ready, Miss Elwood?” he asked, a bit too hopefully.
Miss Elwood blushed, and she nodded, reaching for his arm.
“Yes, I am,” she said.
Albert had to struggle to not get lost in her green eyes as she linked her arm through his. But the battle soon became to fight off the thrills of awareness as their arms touched. He was stunned by the way his heart skipped at the contact, just as it had when his hand had brushed hers the previous day.
Her mother was the only reason that he didn’t get lost in staring at his future bride all over again. She gracefully approached the couple, kissing her daughter on the cheek.
“Enjoy your outing,” she said, smiling warmly at both of them.
Albert bowed again, using it as an excuse to collect himself.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said. “Have a lovely afternoon.”
The viscountess nodded approvingly at her daughter before turning and making way for a young woman dressed in a maid’s uniform. Albert guessed that she was Miss Elwood’s lady’s maid and chaperone, and he gave her a small nod. The young woman curtseyed, but she didn’t look him in the eye. Nor did she speak. Albert shrugged it off, escorting Miss Elwood out of the drawing room and through the front door of her family’s home.
When they reached his waiting carriage, Albert helped Miss Elwood inside, waiting for one of his footmen to assist her lady’s maid in before he boarded and sat across from the women. The maid looked at her mistress with an odd expression, but Miss Elwood gave a slight shake of her head. Albert wondered what that was about, but he decided not to overthink it. The carriage pulled away from Elwood Manor, and Albert tried to collect his thoughts and think of something to talk about.
However, before the carriage had even picked up speed on the road that would take them to the British Museum, he noticed that the maid’s discomfort increased. As with the way her mistress often stared at him intensely, it was something to which he was fully accustomed in the years since his accident. It wasn’t only members of the ton who looked down on him for his scars. Too frequently, he encountered servants who treated him no differently than those in high society did.
At first, he had been bothered by the mistreatment from those of lower stations than him. He had expected such treatment from his peers and betters, as that was just the way of the ton. But some part of him had expected more compassion from those who were born to serve nobility and wealthy men. It had been jarring to find that even servants could turn up their noses at him. Only Daniel, and a small handful of his own servants didn’t treat him like a monster.
Those were also the only servants who didn’t spread malicious and untrue gossip about him. It was no secret within the ton that servants were just as capable of concocting stories about their employers as any member of the ton was about another member. It had shocked him so much because his own servants knew exactly what happened, as they remembered a time before his scars, and they had all helped wait on him while he recovered. That was before the bandages came off for good. After that, it was as if the servants had no idea who he had been before. It was after that that some of them began causing real trouble for him, in his own home. Despite how nice and fair he had always been with them.
In fact, there had been a time, he recalled, where he had to dismiss several staff members working at his country-seat. He had just been settling into his new life with his scars, and a few servants had quit of their own accord in the months preceding his accident. Then, just as he was beginning to learn what his new normal life would be, false rumors began about him.
At first, it was just whispers of rumors between some of the lower level servants. But eventually, word began getting around, and even Daniel was hearing all the nasty things being said about his master. There were claims of inappropriate contact with some of the maids, lies about how he would punish any other servants who tried to leave his service, and rumors about him harming people who spoke about his scars. None of those things were true, of course. But the servants who weren’t gossiping were terrified of him, and threatening to quit, as the others had.
Before then, Albert had never fired an employee in his entire rein as viscount. But after that, he had to let go of about six of them. Two of them even tried to steal some jewels from his country-seat. Daniel had caught the first one in the act and overheard her speaking to another maid. When Albert called in three of the six servants he called in, the second culprit jumped to the other girl’s defense, saying that what he was doing was wrong, and that he was nothing but a monster. Daniel had recognized the girl’s voice, and Albert had fired her right then.
With a deep breath, Albert shoved the thoughts away. He was sure that Miss Elwood was thinking many terrible things about him, as anyone who witnessed his scars did. But he was an expert at pretending that he didn’t notice such things. Besides, the art museum was a place where he could lose himself in the exhibits and not think about them for a while. Typically, at least. He hoped that that day would be no exception.
“You said that you only paint with watercolours,” he said. “Have you ever thought about trying any of the other mediums?”
To his surprise, and delight, Miss Elwood’s face lit up. The sweet smile that spread across her face warmed his heart, making it skip half a beat.
“Oh, I’ve tried my hand at other forms of art,” she said. “I do enjoy the sketching part of the process. And I have tried oils paints, as well as pastel sticks. But I always come back to watercolours.”
Albert nodded slowly, smiling as he did so. He could certainly relate. He was always fonder of working with charcoals than with any other medium. But he couldn’t give that part of himself to Miss Elwood. Not then. Still, he loved the passion and knowledge with which she spoke about her art.
A moment later, the carriage pulled up in front of the British Museum. The beige colored building towered above them, and sprawled out in three separate sections. The middle section was the main building of the museum, while its flanking left and right sections were more akin to covered walkways that allowed free movement across the grounds of the British Museum without going back inside the main building.
For just a moment, Albert forgot his earlier trepidation about his outing with Martha. He had forgotten how impressive the building was, marveling at it for a moment before stepping out of the carriage and helping Miss Elwood alight. His footman helped her lady’s maid out of the carriage, and they headed inside together, with Lily acting as Miss Elwood’s chaperone.
Albert’s sense of wonder was instantly murdered as they stepped inside the entry hall of the museum. Immediately, they caught the attention of the other patrons heading into the museum proper. And everyone recognized him at once, their expressions forming masks of disdain before Albert had even made eye contact with them. He sighed. It seemed that he wouldn’t get anything out of the outing except for a reminder of why he had moved to the countryside in the first place.
Chapter Fifteen
Martha could feel people staring as she and Albert made their way through the entryway of the museum and into the common area that conjoined entrances to the exhibits. She found herself making eye contact with a few of the people watching them, noting how some of them looked away quickly when they noticed her looking. Some, however, didn’t look away.
The expressions ranged from curiosity and amusement to horror and bewilderment. She wasn’t used to such attention. As a rather plain wallflower, the ton had never been too interested in her. Now, they looked as though she and Lord Billington were the most interesting, or perhaps the oddest, thing they had ever seen. Perhaps, to many of the people, the couple was.
The viscount, however, seemed unfazed. At least, at first glance he did. She tried to not add to the people staring in his direction as she glanced carefully at his expression. His face was stoic, unchanging no matter how many pairs of eyes found their way to the two of them. But his eyes flickered with a range of emotions, and she noticed that they appeared to be a bit darker.
It didn’t take her long to realize that he was uncomfortable, and she instantly felt bad for him. She couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be treated in such a way; to get so much attention from the ton, but much of it be because people were horrified of him. She hadn’t noticed it the night she met him, as she had tried to pay as little attention to him as possible. But now, she could see that no face she could see was looking at him with anything other than distaste and disdain.
