Chapter 4

Four

T he ride to March Manor was not as long as Ruth had expected, but still long enough for her imagination to get a little feisty before she arrived. In her imaginings, the lady of the manor would be a tall and imposing character, attired in silk and fine jewels, who ordered her about imperiously and made unnecessary requests. Or, as her mind turned another way, she imagined a middle-aged woman with a mysterious past, cloaked all in black and veiled. These little flights of fancy made her smile, and, at times, shiver, but Ruth knew better than to give them any legitimacy. I’ll know soon enough, she kept telling herself.

At last, at the end of a long row of trees, the carriage pulled out in front of a tall, imposing house with towering windows and an impressive oaken door. Ruth got out timidly, directing the coachman to unload her leather clothes chest and handbag, then paused a moment to collect herself before allowing the carriage to leave and climbing slowly to the great door. She knocked twice before there was an answer. The butler had a thin, drawn face. He looked her up and down with apparent confusion and said nothing, so Ruth introduced herself awkwardly.

“I am Miss Selwyn,” she said. “I am answering your advertisement for a lady’s companion.” She presented the letter from Lady Engleton. “I have my reference.”

The butler’s face lightened with understanding, but his brows were still drawn together rather suspiciously. “I received word about you, but we had not expected your arrival so soon.”.” He looked behind her at her belongings on the lane. “I see you are rather sure of your employment.”

“I was given to understand the situation was fairly certain,” Ruth said, feeling suddenly foolish. “I can send for another coach if things are not as I suspected.”

The butler pursed his lips together and moved aside, motioning to a liveried boy standing just inside. “Fetch her bags to the servants’ quarters and find her a place there,” he said curtly. Then, to Ruth, “I will have to introduce you to Lord Darnley, and to her ladyship as well. Nothing is certain, but you may stay the night regardless of their verdict.” He hesitated a moment in the hall, looking around as though to be sure of their solitude before saying quietly, “I am not sure this is the right position for you, Miss Selwyn. You seem a pleasant enough lass, but the Dowager Duchess has already disposed of three prospective lady companions, and you seem a slight little thing.”

Ruth drew herself up to her full height, which was admittedly diminutive, and tried to sound very confident. “I am a good worker,” she said. “And I learn quickly. I hope Lady Cecelia will not have reason to dismiss me.”

“Oh, you mistake me.” The butler sounded cynical indeed. “Lady Cecelia did not dismiss the three previous applicants. They left of their own accord."

Ruth didn’t know what to say. Perhaps I raised my hopes too soon, she thought with disappointment. This does not seem an easy task after all. Before she could gather her wits, however, she heard a voice from behind her on the stairs, pleasant; even jovial.

“If Lady Cecelia is going to be scaring away all our applicants, Mr. Tylor, there is no need for you to be doing so as well.”

Ruth turned and looked at the speaker. The first thing she noticed about the young man were his eyes, piercing and dark and pointed directly at her. He had bright red hair, most unusual, and a short beard. He looked strong and purposeful, and when she turned around to meet him, he walked to her immediately. He gave a quick bow, to which she responded with a rather foolish curtsy.

“Miss Selwyn, I presume?” He held up a letter and flashed a devastating smile. “Fancy that. I was only just at my desk looking over notes, and saw Lady Engleton’s notice of your possible arrival. I confess, a governess is not what we had expected.”

Speak. Ruth felt a blush warming on her face.

“I expect to learn a good deal in this position,” she said, a little too softly. “But I feel more than ready for the task.”

“You look a little less than ready,” he said, a smile in his eyes. “But as our dear butler here has already told you, we are not in a position to be choosers at present. We are the proverbial beggars, seeking good help that will endure my aunt’s rather eccentric company.”

“Tell me about your aunt,” she said, finding her voice at last. She wanted to appear professional and capable, not nervous and simpering. “What is so eccentric about her behavior?”

“She is…difficult.” He looked at her for a moment in silence, as though trying to decide what to reveal. “You will understand more when you meet her. She is unwell, but refuses to see a doctor. Beyond that, she has some behaviors that are unusual for a lady of her standing in society.”

“Such as?” she asked.

“I would rather you see for yourself, and determine whether the situation is a tenable one,” he said, dodging. “I wouldn’t wish to reveal too much if you think the matter is beyond your abilities.”

She felt very small looking up at him, and saw her youth reflected in his eyes. He thinks I am too young, she thought; or at least too inexperienced .

“Then there is no use continuing our conversation here,” she said firmly. “Please take me to Lady Cecelia.”

Her command seemed to surprise Lord Darnley. He raised his eyebrows, but this time did not smile. Instead, he nodded to the butler and then motioned with his hand for Ruth to follow him back up the stairs.

“She is in her own chambers this afternoon,” he said, speaking without turning around. “And she’s not been having a very good day.”

That is certainly ominous, she thought wryly. I wonder if he knows how much of an Ann Radcliff he seems when he speaks that way. The thought made her smile inwardly, and cheered her enough to chase away the trepidation that she would otherwise have been feeling.

At a pair of double doors the man stopped, knocked once and, upon hearing nothing, seemed to determine the way clear for entry. He led Ruth inside and stopped just past the threshold. Just a few feet away there stood a woman in a white shift, barefoot, with a bundle of ribbons twisted into a parody of a crown atop her loose white hair. She turned and looked at Ruth with evident surprise and alarm, but said nothing.

So. She is mad. The thought frightened Ruth at first, but in the next moment she felt a grain of courage come to her. There was something in the woman’s eyes that was familiar to her — something like the eyes of a child.

“Good day, my Lady,” she said, stepping forward. “I’m Miss Ruth S—”

The old woman held up her finger and Ruth stopped speaking in response. “No.” She clucked her tongue. “Not ‘my Lady.’”

She walked over and began circling Ruth, chanting in a low turn. She raised her arms up and down, moving as though she was some sort of druid priest, the ribbons about her head drifting into her eyes as she danced. Ruth didn’t look at Lord Darnley, but she could feel him stiffen at her side. Ruth took a breath and stepped a little away from her companion so Lady Cecelia could circle her uninhibited. Then, after a moment, she asked as brightly as she could, “Pardon me, but what are you doing?”

The woman froze and leaned in, her eyes unnaturally bright.

“I’m turning you into a witch, my dear,” she said. “The moon is right for the ritual.”

She began again, but this time Ruth felt a surge of confidence. She smiled, even laughed a little, and began to turn slowly in the opposite direction of Lady Cecelia’s circling. She raised her arms above her head and closed her eyes. Lady Cecelia stopped chanting at once. Ruth opened her eyes. The woman was looking at her strangely.

“Pardon me,” she said, mimicking Ruth’s earlier question. “But what are you doing?”

“I’m helping,” Ruth said simply. “I’ve heard that the faeries will help in a witch transformation if the subject with turn in an opposite direction. I only wanted to keep you from exerting too much effort on my behalf.”

The Dowager Duchess stepped back a moment, peering at Ruth as though seeing her for the first time. She said nothing, but appeared astonished.

Perhaps no one has gone along with her antics before, Ruth thought. It was the only explanation for her shocked response. Still, for Ruth, the entire interaction had come quite naturally. The Duchess, in all her madness and strangeness, had merely been behaving like a child — and the one thing Ruth understood was how to handle children.

The Duchess turned and sat down on a nearby settee, almost immediately defeated. Ruth sat down carefully beside her. She could feel Lord Darnley’s eyes on her and knew he was judging her response, but she pushed the thought from her mind.

He hasn’t known what to do until now, she thought, so I can’t look to him for support. I must try to think about what will be best on my own.

“My Lady,” she began carefully. “Do you think you might like me to call for some tea? I don’t want to rush your process, but I always get thirsty when I’m in the middle of a witching.”

The woman frowned up at her, eyes hard again. “Do not call me ‘my Lady,’” she snapped. “I am ‘Duchess’ to you, girl.”

Ruth fought the urge to comply, instead seeing the request as a sort of vulnerability; an open door for further bargaining.

“I will comply with your request,” she answered slowly, “but not until you do something for me.”

The Duchess pulled her eyebrows together, clearly confused and angry. “It is not for you to ask anything of me,” she said. “It is for you to obey.”

It went against all Ruth’s training as a servant, but she held her ground. “Yes,” she said, “and I’m truly delighted to obey in time — but only when you’ve done what I ask in return.”

“What is it you ask?” the Duchess asked, intrigued despite herself.

“If you hire me as your lady’s maid and companion,” she said simply. “I will be staying with you day and night.”

The Duchess frowned. “And then you will call me ‘Duchess’?”

Ruth smiled. “No, that is merely the circumstance necessary for my official request, my Lady. I will call you ‘Duchess’ when you have agreed to see a doctor.”

The old woman pulled away from her at once, her face icy.

“No,” she said harshly. “Not a doctor. Never a doctor.”

Ruth pretended to be disinterested. “Quite right, my Lady. I completely support your anonymity in this particular area, my Lady.”

“Don’t call me that!” She rose and walked to the other side of the room, grabbing an empty quill off the stand and scratching vainly at the walls. “No doctor.”

“Lady Cecelia,” Ruth said kindly, “Please do not mistake me. I would never force you to see a doctor; not when I can see the idea clearly upsets you. I am only holding firm on my terms.”

“I am ‘Duchess’ to you,” the woman said imperiously.

“You are,” Ruth said with a significant pause, “when you have agreed to treat yourself with the kindness and care that a duchess deserves — when you have agreed to be seen by a physician.”

The woman paused, the quill hovering a moment over the wall, then it dropped to her side. “A quick doctor?” she asked, her voice pleading.

Ruth relented at once. “A very quick doctor,” she said with a smile, coming to put her hand on the old woman’s frail shoulders. “The quickest.”

Suddenly, the woman turned and grasped her hands. Ruth felt the woman’s fingers were desperate, like a child clinging to its mother. “Will you be there, with the doctor?” she asked quietly.

“Of course,” Ruth said matter-of-factly. If it had been proper, she would have gathered the little woman into her arms and embraced her, letting her know that there was nothing to fear. “I will be wherever you are now, because I am your lady’s maid and I am your new companion. You shall have nothing difficult to face without me.”

Ruth was touched that in such a short time she had built any sort of trust, especially considering how firm and mildly antagonistic she had been with the little lady. Still, it seemed the woman had some manner of faith in her, and that was all Ruth needed to build a relationship of respect and learning.

She led Lady Cecelia back to her chair and settled her in with a blanket. Then she walked over to the door and, promising to return soon with a cup of tea and a biscuit, led Lord Darnley out into the hall beyond.

Stephen could hardly believe what he’d just seen.

He’d doubted the credentials of Miss Ruth Selwyn when he first read her referral in his office, and those doubts had been confirmed when he saw her slight figure in the lower hall. She was small and fragile, her eyes large and vulnerable. She didn’t seem strong enough to withstand the antics Aunt Cecelia was certain to send her way.

All these preconceptions, however, had been summarily dissolved when he watched her first interaction with his aunt. He had hardly known what to do with the matter of the chanting and the witch ceremony, but Miss Selwyn seemed to handle it easily enough. She even seemed to enjoy it, although Stephen was unsure how that could be. Then there had been the matter of the titles, and Stephen had been forced to swallow his astonishment at her forthright manner — wondering all the while if he ought to step in and remind her of her inferior rank — until her tactic proved worthwhile and his aunt had agreed at last to see a doctor.

When they stepped outside and the door was firmly closed behind them at last, he turned to Miss Selwyn in genuine gratefulness.

“I do not know how you did it,” he said quietly. “But your methods speak for themselves. I am impressed by the way in which you conducted yourself, Miss Selwyn, and I would like to hire you at once.”

She smiled, true delight reflected on her face. This, too, astonished Stephen. Everyone else acted as though my aunt was a burden, he thought. But she seems to genuinely enjoy her. She gave a quick curtsy.

“I am delighted to be considered for the position,” she said. Then, a moment later, “And I look forward to a frank discussion of wages and the terms of my continuance.”

Stephen paused a moment, tempted most heartily to laugh. He had misjudged her yet again based upon her whimsical appearance, and it seemed almost preposterous to hear such a fair creature demanding a “frank discussion” on business matters. She seemed like the sort who never breathe a word of income in proper society.

“Of course,” he said, holding back a smile. “I was under the impression that a governess of your standing is well used to 20 pounds a year. Are you agreeable to such an income, plus an additional allowance and your room and board?”

He could see at once that, though she had exhibited great courage in bringing up the subject in the first place, Miss Selwyn was not overly used to discussions of business and bargaining. Her face gave away at once that she thought the wages more than sufficient, for she gave a little start and, blinking quickly, nodded.

“I suppose,” she said, drawing herself up, “that would be agreeable for the time being. Perhaps, if my work is pleasing, we may reevaluate my wages in six months’ time to determine whether or not you deem me worthy of more.”

Clever girl, he thought. She’s perfectly happy with the wage, but is keeping the way open for future earnings. To her face, he merely nodded and said, “I think that may be arranged.”

He turned and led her back downstairs, running into Mr. Tylor in the entryway and pausing a moment.

“Miss Selwyn has been hired,” he said. “Her work with Lady Cecelia proves most satisfactory, and I am looking forward to her future employment in our place of residence.”

He saw a look of discomfort cross the butler’s face, and guessed its meaning. He thinks the position will crush our little Miss Selwyn, he thought. But he has not seen her in action as I have. He will grow confident with time.

“I know you have sent her things to the servants’ quarters,” he said, “but there is a room beside my aunt’s that is at present unoccupied. I would prefer she be installed there, considering the rather unusual circumstances under which she has been hired. I believe proximity will be of the utmost importance.”

He saw a look of surprise cross Ruth’s face. “I am quite happy with the servants’ quarters,” she said, looking nervously at the butler.

“You will a companion as much as a maid,” he assured her. “It will require your attendance at meals and events to better keep her in check, and therefore I think it only proper that your rooms be above floors. It will avoid confusion with the other staff.”

Tylor, for his part, nodded in agreement. “I see the wisdom in this plan,” he agreed. “I will have the room opened up, and her trunk sent up at once.”

Stephen turned to Miss Selwyn and reached out his hand, affording her the proper arrangement of gentlemen entering into business. After a moment’s hesitation, she took his hand ever so briefly.

“To our coming partnership,” he said.

She bowed her head, a little blush appearing in her cheeks, and pulled her hand back as quickly as she’d given it. He instantly regretted the gesture. He’d meant it as a sign of respect, but saw that she was made uncomfortable by the familiarity of the motion. I shall be more careful in the future, he vowed.

He drew away a step and gave a quick bow. She responded in kind, and they went their separate directions to prepare for what was sure to be a most tumultuous time ahead.