Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

ROSE

G winnie was taking the pins out of her hair when Rose entered her dressing room to assist her with changing clothes. "What are you doing? I thought you wanted that complicated coronet hairstyle this morning. I certainly worked hard enough on it."

Gwinnie laughed. "I did, then. It fit nicely in my poke bonnet. Between the hat and my shoes, I believe I was four inches taller." She pulled another pin from her hair and began to unwind the plait. She frowned as she looked in the mirror. "Unfortunately, it didn't have the effect I'd hoped it would have."

"And how is that, my lady?" Rose asked.

"I was striving for intimidation, but I don't think I achieved that. I think the only thing I achieved was the label of being an eccentric."

"Well, that's not so terrible, is it?"

"I believe that is what all unmarried women of a certain age are considered. But where I failed, Mr. Martin succeeded."

"Being intimidating?"

"No, quite the opposite, by being full of good humor! He laughed at mishaps, and he laughed at things forgotten. Interestingly, both scenarios had Mr. Gedney furious, but he couldn't say anything because no one else took his words amiss. It was comical. Mr. Gedney was like an escaped bonnet caught on a tree branch, dancing in the wind." She smiled at the inquest memory.

"You like him, don't you?"

"Who?" Gwinnie asked.

"Mr. Martin, of course."

Gwinnie looked up in the mirror to see Rose's face behind her. "Not in the manner you are suggesting," she demurred. "He is a comfortable gentleman for me to talk to. You are fully aware I find that so seldom. To other gentlemen, I am The Duke's Daughter ," she said with sarcastic emphasis. "The only other man I've been able to talk that easily with is my brother."

"What does he do differently?" Rose asked.

Gwinnie thought for a moment. "You will be shocked if I tell you," she said.

"Does he importune you?"

"No, however, he allows his humor to be suggestive," she said with a slight smile, "and we banter back and forth as I did with Lancelot before he married Cassie and moved out of Malmsby House. I miss that repartee."

"Well, if you like him, why don't you encourage him to court you?"

"Rose, he is shorter than I am and is not of our social circle."

Rose looked at her through the mirror, a sour expression on her face.

"What?" Gwinnie asked, seeing Rose's expression

"Do you think your family would truly care?"

"Yes!"

"Why? Are you forgetting your Aunt Elizabeth?" Rose asked.

"My Aunt Elizabeth?"

"She married a potter. Did your family spurn her?"

Gwinnie looked down at her dressing table, replete with porcelain pieces for storing hair pins, face powders, hair powder, and perfumes. "No-o— but she is a clay artist herself. It made sense she would fall in love with a gentleman who shared her passion for clay."

"What about her daughter, your cousin, Helena? She was not born into society, yet she married an earl."

"But we are her family, and we are society."

Rose rolled her eyes.

Gwinnie could not help but smile at her action.

"You will contrive to find fault whatever I say, won't you?" Rose asked.

"Probably," Gwinnie admitted, her shoulders slumping. Why was she making excuses? She was drawn to Lewis, as she thought of him now. She'd never met a man who wasn't in her family who made her laugh like Lewis did. And those blue eyes— sometimes, when they looked at her, she felt her insides trembling. She wanted to reach out and touch him. In her bed at night, with the bed curtains pulled, her thoughts turned carnal. She imagined him in ways she had never imagined any man— real or fantasy. She bit her lower lip to stop her wayward thoughts. They would never suit. Would they?

There was a knock on her dressing room door. Rose answered it.

"Excuse me, Lady Gwinnie," said the maid, Mercy. "The duke says as how the Earl of Norwalk's party shall be here in forty minutes. He asks that you join them all in the first-floor gold parlor."

"Thank you, Mercy. I will," Gwinnie said. "Rose, please fetch my forest-green gown."

Rose nodded. "That is a lovely gown on you." She went to the cupboard.

"You don't think it is too fancy for a meeting? Or do you think I should wear black for Mrs. Southerland?"

"I think a mourning dress would not be appropriate, as you are not family; however, if you wish to show some regard for the deceased, you could carry your black shawl and wear your late mother's black onyx parure."

"Hmmm," Gwinnie said thoughtfully. "I like your idea. Let's do that. But just the earbobs and bracelet. The necklace would be too much."

"As you wish," Rose said, as she helped her into the green dress. Afterward, Rose brushed her long, dark-red hair. "Do you wish me to put it back up in the coronet style?"

"No, that made my head ache," Gwinnie told her, which, while true, was not her real reason. She did not want to tower over Mr. Martin as she had earlier in the day. "Just do the bun-roll you often do at the base of my neck."

"Of course. We'll secure it with pins and your black hair comb."

"Yes, perfect. I don't know what I would do without you," Gwinnie said, smiling at her long-time lady's maid.

Gwinnie saw Rose's expression fall. Something was wrong.

"Rose?"

"Yes, miss?" Rose said, forcing a smile and brightness to her face.

"What is it?"

Rose shook her head vigorously. "Nothing, miss." She began picking up clothes about the room, her face averted from Gwinnie's.

Gwinnie stood up and went over to Rose, laying a hand on her arm to stop her. "I messed it up, didn't I?"

"I don't know what you mean," Rose said with forced lightness. "Excuse me, I want to get the room straightened."

"The room can wait."

"And you need to go downstairs to the company."

"Company can wait. We've been together a long time. When I said I don't know what I would do without you, you crumbled. Rose, that is only an expression to show my appreciation. I would never stand in your way. What is it you want to do? Away from me?"

Rose stood straight and held her head high, though she worried her hands before her. "I know I am only a lady's maid, but I thought— I thought I would ask Lord Soothcoor if he might consider me for a position with one of his charities… I've come to enjoy the work we've done and would like to do more."

Gwinnie looked at her, stunned for a moment, then smiled, her eyes shining. "Yes!" she said. "A glorious yes ! I support you, though you have to help me find your replacement."

"Yes, miss. Of course, miss, but there is no saying he will accept me."

"Oh, he will," Gwinnie said.

She stepped forward to hug her maid, startling Rose. Such intimacy was not done between mistress and maid. Rose tentatively hugged her back.

"Now I'd best get downstairs. I'm already late as it is. We'll discuss how you can approach him tomorrow."

"Thank you, Lady Gwinnie," Rose said. "Thank you."

Gwinnie grabbed the shawl from the back of the dressing-table chair where Rose had draped it, threw it around her shoulders, and went out of the room and downstairs to the parlor.

Gwinnie walked into the gold parlor while Mercy was organizing the tea and mini-sandwiches on the table between the two front windows.

"Ah, I am not late," she said, as she entered the room.

Her cousin rose from her seat next to their grandmother, the dowager duchess. "Come sit by us!" Helena invited.

"I should be delighted," Gwinnie said, coming up to her to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I apologize for my behavior Friday evening. I had hardly even noted you were here, and I truly am happy to see you."

"You were distraught. Understandable with that awful murder. You know we were with the Galboroughs on Saturday. They couldn't decide if the charity Mrs. Southerland led was a good institution or not."

"I am not surprised," drawled her grandmother. "They are a sanctimonious pair. Thankfully their children are not."

"Mother, that is enough," Gwinnie's father said.

The dowager duchess shrugged nonchalantly. "You take away an old woman's fun. So, please introduce us to the gentleman standing at attention behind you."

The duke nodded and turned to look behind him. "This is Tom Cott, veteran of the 88th Regiment Foot, pugilist, and associate of Mr. Martin. He has agreed to provide escort and guard services for my family and yours, Norwalk, while you remain in London."

"Arthur, you are being ridiculous again," dismissed the Dowager Countess of Norwalk.

"Charlotte, you did not see the body of Mrs. Southerland with her slit throat. Gwinnie and I did this morning at the inquest."

"You poor thing," exclaimed Helena, grabbing Gwinnie's hand.

"Yes, what happened at the inquest?" Norwalk asked.

"Nothing. Gwinnie gave her statement, then the inquest was adjourned," the duke said disgustedly.

"Adjourned? Why?"

"Four jurors had information relevant to the inquest so they could not serve on the jury."

"Arthur, when will the inquest reconvene?" his mother asked.

"Hopefully, this afternoon, if the coroner can get the jurors replaced," the duke said.

"Do you need to be at the continuation of the inquest?" Helena asked.

"I gave my statement this morning, so they said they would read my statement to the new jurors," Gwinnie said.

"Soothcoor and Mr. Martin will be in attendance," the duke explained.

"What do you think will be the outcome of the inquest?" asked Helena.

"Nothing."

"Death by persons unknown," Gwinnie said lugubriously.

"That is so sad," Helena said.

"And not acceptable," growled the duke. "Until I am comfortable in the knowledge that the woman wasn't killed in a case of mistaken identity, we can't rule out the validity of the threats Charlotte and I have received."

"Agreed," said Norwalk.

"Ridiculous," said the Dowager Countess.

"No, Mother, it is not. I think we should leave London tomorrow."

"But my club!" protested his mother.

"Will be safer without you there. You have a general manager to manage the club," Norwalk said.

"But I'd planned some seminars for the members," she protested.

"Write a pamphlet," her son said curtly.

The Dowager Countess frowned at him. "You and Helena can return. I will stay here."

"No."

"Norwalk!" protested his mother.

"Charlotte," Helena said softly. She placed her hand over her womb. "I should feel better if I had your company."

Lady Norwalk looked at her daughter-in-law. Her expression softened. "All right. If you all insist— though I still disagree on the need."

"Thank you," Helena said, looking down.

The earl and his mother began making plans with input from the duke. The dowager duchess grasped the hand of Helena. "Well played!" she whispered.

Helena grinned. "But Grandmother, I learned from you."

Gwinnie fell backward against the sofa cushions, laughing softly.