Page 13 of The Lady in Pearls
The thought filled her with a sinking uncertainty. Could she handle being the Countess of Huntley? Could she handle living with Lachlan? What had she agreed to by coming here and marrying him? Lachlan’s behavior baffled her. One minute he was furious, the next he was cold, and the next he was kissing her until she grew dizzy and breathless.
Could she really marry a man whose moods changed so unexpectedly? Then again, what choice did she have? If she broke the contract, she would be sent back to London. The contracted money wouldn’t last forever. Perhaps Lachlan’s mercurial moods would settle once they married.
She could only hope that would be the case.
A knock came at the door and she glanced up, expecting to see Lachlan, hoping for a chance to speak to him and try to fix whatever had gone wrong at the end of their kiss. Her heart sank as a young maid of perhaps sixteen or seventeen entered the room. Her arms were full of clothes, which she set on the bed.
“Afternoon miss, my name is Mary. I’m to help you while you are here. I’ve been properly trained as a lady’s maid.” The girl was bright-eyed and quick to smile, but blushed when she did so.
“Thank you, Mary.” Daphne returned the girl’s smile.
Mary began setting brushes and hair pins out on the vanity table. It reminded her of home. She missed Eugenia, her maid. When her father had been convicted, she had been evicted from the townhouse, she had urged the few remaining loyal servants to seek new employers for she could no longer pay them. Eugenia had pleaded to stay with her, but Daphne couldn’t hurt one of her few remaining friends by dragging her down too. If Eugenia had stayed with her, they both would have ended up on the streets without work. It was better for Eugenia to find a new lady to serve.
“I brought fresh clothes for you.” Mary walked over to the bed and held up a simple, dark blue walking dress and the necessary undergarments. “I know they aren’t much, but we are similar in size and they will do until the modiste arrives. Mrs. Marchby usually has quite a few gowns ready-made that she can adjust to fit most ladies who need something quickly. Should I call for a hot bath?”
“Yes, please.” Daphne was looking forward to soaking in a tub. She’d only had the chance to bathe once at Stirling’s, and she was desperate to do so again.
Mary pulled the bell cord by the bed, then set about retrieving fresh bed linens from the dressers.
“Mary, could you tell me more about the house and the servants? I should like to know as much as possible about my new home.”
“Of course, miss.” Mary’s delighted smile and happy tales about life on the estate eased Daphne’s weary heart. Huntley Castle sounded like a wonderful place to live. She only hoped Lachlan would not regret bringing her here.
Daphne and the maid spoke in whispers as footmen carried in buckets of hot water and filled the copper tub in the dressing room. The young men glanced their way, trying to hide their smiles.
Mary finally intervened. “Off with you now! She’s got plenty of water.” One of the young men dared to steal a kiss from Mary when he thought Daphne wasn’t watching. But she saw the tender scene reflected in the mirror and smiled. Maybe someday she and Lachlan would be that spontaneous, feel that sort of love, and steal kisses when they thought no one was watching. If the kiss they’d shared a short while ago had been a bonfire, his kisses would warm her through the coldest winters, burning through the dark and healing her heart.
“Ready, miss?” Mary returned and helped her out of her clothes.
When Daphne was undressed, she stood naked in the dressing room, clutching the pearls to her chest. Where could she put them and feel confident that they would not be lost? Mary didn’t miss her possessive hold over the necklace.
“Shall I find a small box to store those in for you, my lady?”
The wordnowas on the tip of her tongue, but this was her new home and she had to make herself comfortable here. Being able to leave her mother’s pearls somewhere safe during the day would be necessary.
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
“Of course.” The maid smiled and carefully collected the pearls from Daphne’s hands, then left her alone to bathe.
Daphne sank into the large copper tub, allowing the hot water to slip over her skin, its warmth sinking deep into her tired muscles. The hot water reminded her of being wrapped in Lachlan’s arms, how he’d held her close in the hay, his body heat warming her. A tremor shook her and the spot between her thighs pulsed with a sharp ache. His lips had pressed into her hair…hair that now hung damp against her neck. Daphne reached up and touched the locks, feeling once again his lips so close to her neck, wishing she could feel more of his delicious, forbidden heat.
Last night in the stables, she had felt warm and safe. But then, any place was preferable to London’s icy alleys. She had woken once during the night to find Lachlan curled against her, his lips buried in her hair, his hands both possessive and tender as he held her. Whatever plagued him during the day seemed to vanish at night. His worry-creased brows had softened and for a moment she had a chance to admire his masculine beauty. His full lips, lips she now knew to be soft and hot, had looked so inviting. His proud aristocratic features seemed to be chiseled out of marble.
If only I could understand him and his changing moods.
His older brother’s death had to play some part in it. She understood that kind of heartbreak. Losing her mother to a weak heart, her father to prison, and her security to the courts, she’d had her heart broken over and over again. Lachlan had clearly been close to his brother and losing him…that could break even the strongest man. It was understandable for him to be rough and unfeeling when he was protecting his heart, but Daphne wished he knew he didn’t have to guard against her. They could band together in their grief and become stronger for their union. She just had to make him see that.
After she finished her bath, Mary helped her dress. Luckily, the maid was right, they were close in size, and the plain white stockings and sensible, dark blue gown fit well enough. Mary handed her a lovely red and green tartan shawl.
“’Tis the family colors, my lady. I thought his lordship would like to see you wearing it tonight at dinner.” Then Mary held up a rosewood box. “I’ve put your pearls inside, and if you leave the box on your vanity table it will be untouched.” The maid set the box in Daphne’s hands and Daphne couldn’t resist peeking in to see that her mother’s necklace lay safety inside the black velvet interior of the box.
Her throat tightened. “Thank you, Mary. I’m sorry I acted so silly, but they were my mother’s and I would…” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “They are all I have left of her.”
“I understand, miss,” the maid assured her before heading to the dressing room.
Daphne turned away to hide her embarrassment and to set the box on the dark brown vanity table beside the bay window. For a moment. she gazed at the box, remembering how her mother used to twine the pearls around her fingers as she dressed for dinner. Daphne’s father would then enter the room and smile.
“How’s my two beautiful girls?”he’d ask and then he would take the pearls and fasten them around Daphne’s mother’s neck and kiss her cheek, making her blush. It had been a romantic sight that Daphne, as a little girl, had safely locked away in her heart. Papa as he had been before they lost her mother and before he ruined her life.
