Chapter 7

Dear Hethersett,

I am astounded at the speed with which your reply to my initial letter from Lyndhurst Grove has reached me! I am, of course, glad to hear from you and to know more about the machinations of the court in Christiana. It does not surprise me at all that your Norwegian nobles are at odds with the Swedish nobles, their conquerors. I do hope the situation resolves itself soon. Whatever the case, I am delighted that your letter reached me so swiftly.

Lyndhurst Grove is an absolute marvel. As I mentioned briefly in my previous letter, Lord Alden has made the house and the grounds into something of a sanctuary for the creatures he has collected on his many travels in South America and the Caribbean. He has converted his ballroom into a gigantic hothouse, which is now home to more than a hundred reptiles, amphibians, and birds. Somehow, he has brought the world of the Amazonian basin into Wessex. The terrarium, as he calls it, is filled with plants, waterways, and garden beds containing plants and trees from exotic locations.

Lord Alden himself is just as exotic. He has the mien of a great explorer, all handsome and rugged, even when he is dressed as carefully as any London gentleman. He has a habit of wandering his own house in a state of semi-dishabille, mostly because any number of his most favored lizards, frogs, or snakes can be found in his pockets or curled over his shoulders at any time.

I must admit to being shocked by his appearance at first, in more ways than one. Convincing any of the eligible young ladies of the ton to betroth themselves to a man who keeps toads in his pocket and who just the other day demonstrated to me how a small lizard called a gecko will latch hold of one's earlobe and allow itself to be worn like an earbob will be a challenge.

I must confess that, despite my initial alarm at Lord Alden's strange ways, I have become fonder and fonder of him in these last few days, as we have worked together to plan the ball he has invited me here to execute for him. I have thoroughly overcome my initial shock at finding small snakes dropping over my shoulder to warm themselves against my skin as I sit at the table Lord Alden has provided for me to do my work at in the terrarium. I hardly mind the alligators in the pond at the other side of the terrarium from where I work now. And a particular lizard by the name of Egbert seems to have decided I am his new favorite.

All of this would be enlivening and amusing were it not for the fact that I have been hired by Lord Alden to plan a ball at which he intends to find himself a wife. I must confess, though it feels exceedingly strange to confess these things to you in particular, that while I find myself more enthusiastic about the theme and festivities of the weekend Lord Alden and I are planning, I regret the ball and its purpose more and more with each passing day. The entire project has become most bittersweet.

I hope you will not find it shocking or distressing for me to say that Lord Alden and I have become quite good friends. I find his conversation enlivening and his person delightful to look at. We laugh together as quickly as we fall into intellectual debate. The other day, there was a beautiful, heart-stopping, terrifyingly wonderful moment where I was certain Lord Alden was about to kiss me. He has become a very good friend indeed, and I do not like the idea of him marrying another.

Please forgive the blots in the previous paragraph. I was distracted as I wrote and could not form my thoughts in any eloquent way.

Regardless, I will continue to pour all of my efforts into designing the ideal ball to fit Lord Alden's purpose. I must admit that I have also been enjoying assisting in the renovations of his house as well. The majority of the unused rooms have been in desperate need of repair and refreshment. I've been astounded at how quickly Lord Alden has been able to hire workers, and at how swiftly those workers have worked. But I suppose everything they say about money greasing wheels and speeding things along is true.

And now, I must take myself down to the terrarium to finalize the list of young women to whom invitations to this event of my heart will be sent. I must select the potential candidates to take the place I would wish to fill myself, if such a thing was possible. Keep me in your thoughts and send me strength to accomplish this impossible task. And do let me know the results of the supper you will be hosting in an attempt to bring your disparate Scandinavian acquaintances together.

Yours sincerely, Bernadette

Bernadette sighedas she finished her letter, dried the ink, then folded the bulky missive and addressed it to the East Anglian embassy in Christiana, Norway. The last few days that she had spent at Lyndhurst Grove had been some of the most wonderful and most difficult of her life. It felt desperately wrong to write of some things but not others. It would have felt more wrong not to write at all. She had a duty to fulfill, that much was certain. More bittersweet still, Hethersett was her friend and had been for more than a decade, regardless of what her heart felt now. He would know something was amiss if she failed to write at all.

Her chest squeezed as she stared at the envelope on her writing desk after addressing it. For all these many years, she had been content with the way things were, even though she had chosen none of it. But now Alden had arrived in her life and changed everything with his bright smile and his eccentric ways. He was wonderful, but he had upset the precarious balance of Bernadette's life.

She spread her hand across the envelope in front of her, holding her breath. A choice lay in front of her, she was certain. Did she remain true to a promise made for her in her youth or did she destroy herself, her family, and everyone's reputations for a chance to love?

It felt very much like the fate of everything rested on her slender shoulders.

Bernadette shook her head and stood, taking up the letter as she did. It was selfish of her to dwell on her own trials and tribulations when Alden needed her to be clever and organized. They had decided on a date for the ball just the day before, when the chief workman gave his daily progress report and an estimation of when he thought the guestrooms would be habitable. Bernadette had been shocked when the man had informed them that all would be ready by mid-September, which was less than a month away. Alden had seemed eager to have the ball as soon as possible, however, and so the weekend of September fifteenth had been decided upon.

Bernadette could not decide if she wished the intervening weeks to fly by so that she could have her heartbreak and disappointment over with as soon as possible and move on with her life, or if she wished the weekend of the ball would never come. She teetered daily on the precipice of allowing herself to pretend the purpose of the ball was innocent and believing Alden was consulting her on every detail because of an understanding between the two of them.

None of it was doing Bernadette any good, particularly considering Hethersett's place in the equation. She would be wise to put all romantic considerations out of her mind and to complete the task she'd been hired to perform.

Throwing a shawl around her shoulders, since the day was a bit cool, she headed downstairs.

"Mr. Smythe, would you kindly see that this letter is delivered?" she asked as she handed the letter to the young butler, who happened to be in the front hall.

"Yes, my lady," Mr. Smythe said with a bright smile, bowing to her as if she were the lady of the house.

Ill-advised as it was to pretend, Bernadette smiled at Mr. Smythe, and with all the grace she could manage, asked, "Could you perhaps send my tea into the terrarium, Mr. Smythe? I will be addressing invitations for the ball today, so there will be more letters to go out with the afternoon post."

"Yes, my lady," Mr. Smythe said with another bow. "I'll have Mrs. Pettigrew or one of the maids bring your tea right away. Cook made raspberry tarts this morning after a little birdie told her they are your favorites."

"Oh?" Bernadette said, brightening. "That was very kind of her. Please send her my sincerest thanks."

It was far too easy for Bernadette to make-believe the ball was long past and Alden had chosen her as his bride. It felt so natural for her to assume the role of lady of the house. The servants seemed to feel the fantasy as well, as a few of them greeted her with deference as she made her way to the table in the terrarium. It would have been a wonderful life, and Bernadette was certain she and Alden and the entire household would have been happy…if only it were possible.

Bernadette's gentle, happy mood was shaken as she made her way along the terrarium path towards the table only to find Alden standing in the garden bed just to the side of her workspace. He appeared to be tying back one of the exotic shrubs, or perhaps investigating whatever creature lived between its branches.

For a moment, Bernadette paused to observe Alden. He was without a jacket and had his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. Despite being in Wessex and not the Amazon, his skin was tanned, and he had the healthy glow of a man who spent his time out of doors. As he stepped back from the shrub and squatted to retrieve something from the ground, the fabric of his breeches pulled tight across his thighs and backside, and Bernadette caught her breath.

Her observations of Alden were betrayed when a flickering in the grass beside Alden gave way to a dart of green as Egbert shot towards her. Bernadette swallowed hard and continued forward, certain her face was bright red, as Alden stood and turned to her.

"Bernadette," he said, his expression morphing from contemplative to happy. "I missed you at breakfast this morning."

Bernadette's heart beat so hard she was certain Alden could see it through the light fichu she wore, despite the humid warmth of the terrarium. "I had some personal correspondences to write this morning that required concentration, so I took breakfast in my room," she said, face heating even more as she remembered the confessions she'd almost made in her letter to Hethersett. "I hope you do not mind."

She moved deliberately to the table, putting it between her and Alden so that she would not be tempted to rush into his arms and beg him to carry her away to South America, so that she might abandon the responsibilities of Britannia. Egbert scrambled up the table and flicked his tongue at her, as if asking to be picked up.

"I think I can find it within myself to forgive you," Alden said, teasing her with a look, as he stepped out of the grassy garden bed. His smile was a wickedness unto itself, but combined with his lack of a neckcloth and the top buttons of his shirt undone, Bernadette had to sink quickly into her chair at the table to stop herself from melting into a pile on the flagstones. "I spent the greater part of the morning looking over the rooms that have been finished and directing the workers to begin on the parlors as well."

Bernadette gripped the edge of the table as she glanced up at Alden in surprise, as if she needed its iron stability. Egbert took that opportunity to run up her arm to her shoulder. "They are finished with the guestrooms already?"

"With the first floor, yes," Alden said with a nod. He came to the table and gripped the back of one of the chairs across from her. "They'll begin on the second floor next week, but I thought it would be best for them to see to some of the smaller parlors first."

He paused, and the two of them met eyes and simply stared at each other with longing for a moment. The entire terrarium seemed to hold still, leaning toward them in expectation.

Then Bernadette looked away and reached for the stationery Alden had provided her with as Alden cleared his throat and picked at a spot on the back of the chair he held.

"The furnishings in nearly all of the parlors are structurally sound, but I should like to send a few of the sofas and chairs out to be reupholstered. If I have fabric samples brought in, would you be so kind as to choose how they should all be redone?"

Bernadette's heart fluttered. Egbert must have felt it, as he flickered his tongue at her like he would catch the butterflies within her. Choosing fabric with which to reupholster furnishings was the sort of thing a wife would do.

"I would happily give you my opinion," she said, fiddling nervously with the edge of the invitation she was about to address.

Alden seemed to become aware of the task in front of her. "Oh, I am sorry. I should let you be about your own business while I handle mine," he said.

"It is no bother," Bernadette said, frustrated by the awkwardness that had sprung up between them, even as they grew closer by the day. "I've made the guest list, you approved it yesterday, and today I merely need to address the invitations so that Mr. Smythe might send them out."

"Wonderful," Alden said.

He stood where he was, watching her, and Bernadette sat still, smiling up at him.

It was lovely and ghastly all at once. If she had half the courage that Muriel or Kat had, she would rise from her chair, throw the table aside, and fly into Alden's arms, and damn the consequences.

The moment was broken by Mr. Smythe's return, and this time, he was not alone.

"Lady Gladys to see you, my lord," he said, sending a short, irritated glance to Lady Gladys herself as she stepped around him and made her way down the terrarium path.

Bernadette stood, but only because she did not like the idea of Lady Gladys being in a position of more power than her at that moment.

"Lord Alden, what a pleasure to see you," Lady Gladys greeted them—or rather Alden, sparing only a slight, sideways glance for Bernadette—as if she herself were the lady of the house and Alden were a guest.

"Lady Gladys." Alden stepped away from the table with a tight smile and reached for the hand Lady Gladys stretched out once she was close. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your call this morning?"

Lady Gladys sent a sour smile Bernadette's way, as if she resented the implications of Alden's use of the word "we". "I have come to see how preparations for your ball are coming along," she said, turning her full attention to Alden. "And to let you know that this morning I have sent twenty-odd invitations to people you simply must have in attendance."

Bernadette felt as though one of the snakes had fallen out of the canopy of branches above her onto her head. "I beg your pardon?" she said.

"Invitations?" Alden asked a moment later. "Lady Bernadette is responsible for the invitations, and everything else about the ball."

"Of course, of course," Lady Gladys said, sitting at the table with a wave of her hand.

It just so happened that Mercy, one of the maids, brought a tray of tea in at just that moment. As soon as she set it on the table, Lady Gladys helped herself to the cup that had been intended for Bernadette.

Alden frowned. "Two more cups, please, Mercy," he said. He glanced across to Bernadette as if they'd suddenly found a viper in their camp and needed to proceed carefully.

It was a small consolation that Alden didn't seem particularly fooled by Lady Gladys's manners or her attempt to take charge. Bernadette sat gingerly across the corner of the table from the woman all the same.

"Might I have a list of the people you've sent invitations to?" she asked, folding her hands carefully on the table. "It would be strange for any of them to receive two invitations for the same ball."

"Oh, I doubt you know these people, my dear," Lady Gladys said, stirring two spoons of sugar into her tea. "They are quite above your level, I think."

Bernadette forced herself to breathe to gather her patience. If it was a war Lady Gladys wanted, it was a war she would get. But Bernadette did not use the same tactics as she did.

"I've already received a response from the letter I sent to the Countess de Lieven, a friend of mine, asking which single ladies of the ton she thinks would be most amenable to the event," she said. "I'm certain we could include your additions to the final list of guests."

Lady Gladys's smug smile dropped. "You are acquainted with the Countess de Lieven?" she asked.

Bernadette smiled. "I am on friendly terms with all of the patronesses of Almack's, yes."

For a moment, Lady Gladys seemed outraged. Then her smile returned, more wolfish than ever. She glanced to Alden and said, "I'd no idea you'd hired such a well-connected councilor for your ball, Lord Alden."

Both ladies glanced to Alden, as if it were up to him to decide which of them should have the upper hand.

Alden had only just taken his seat and squirmed as if he would rise again and flee. "Lady Bernadette has made it her life's purpose to know and be loved by the finest personages in the land," he said, smiling between the two women, his gaze lingering on Bernadette.

Bernadette would have smiled and basked in the praise if it hadn't served as an excuse for Lady Gladys to sharpen her knives even more. "She is beloved beyond the kingdoms of Britannia as well, as I understand it," she said, a cunning look coming to her eyes.

A chill slithered down Bernadette's spine. Lady Gladys could not know of her family's attachments, could she? It was all East Anglian business. No one in Wessex would concern themselves with it.

"I do not doubt it," Alden said, looking like he might have grasped Bernadette's hand, if the two of them had more of an understanding.

"I think you will approve of the guests I have invited to Lord Alden's ball," Lady Gladys said, smiling at Bernadette like she might stab her in the back the moment Bernadette looked away.

"I am certain I will," Bernadette said.

"They will provide quite a diversion," Lady Gladys went on, lifting her teacup and grinning at Bernadette over the porcelain before taking a sip.

The statement filled Bernadette with dread. Visions of a troupe of actors or a collection of bears filled her mind. She would not put it past Lady Gladys to create chaos where she was trying to bring order.

"Anyone I know?" Alden asked, glancing between the two of them.

"You will see," Lady Gladys said, shrugging one shoulder.

"I really should be informed now," Bernadette said, trying to keep her voice steady when she wanted to shout at the cunning woman.

Lady Gladys merely smiled. "Oh, no. It will be much more entertaining for you to find out at the ball. Tell me, Lord Alden. How are your renovations progressing?"

Bernadette pursed her lips as Lady Gladys virtually dismissed her, even though she had not moved. It was war, alright, and Bernadette intended to win.