C. Archer - The Wrong Girl

It was odd that the two visitors were at the side of the house, not the front where they could be greeted. I briefly considered trying to catch their attention and begging their assistance in getting away from Frakingham, but it was likely they were friends of the Langleys and would be disinclined to believe me.

Besides, I wasn't appropriately dressed. I opened the cupboard and selected a simple morning dress of cream and green that fastened up the front. The cotton felt lovely and soft, and I spent a good minute or so just petting it and rubbing it against my cheek. It was perhaps a little flimsy for the cool weather, but I didn't care. It wasn't made of wool and that was all that mattered.

I dressed without a corset since I had no one to help and arranged my hair as best as I could. Without Vi, it was difficult to wrestle it all up into an elegant style, but I managed to pin some of it back so that I at least didn't look like a lion. I also found a silk choker in the same shade of green as the dress and fixed it around my throat.

Miracle of miracles, I found my way downstairs, only getting lost once and winding up at a locked door, which I assumed led to the disused part of the house. I found Sylvia in the small parlor looking out the window, her arms crossed as if hugging herself.

"Good morning," I said.

She turned and a smile quickly chased away her frown. "Good morning," she said, coming toward me. "Did you sleep well? I didn't want you woken until you were quite ready. You looked exhausted last night."

"Thank you. I slept like a log."

She studied me from head to toe, and her smile slipped a little. "You should have rung for one of the maids to help you dress."

"I...I'm not used to being dressed by a maid." Indeed, none of the Windamere attic rooms had been fitted with bell-pulls to summon the servants. They cleaned our bedroom when we were in the parlor, and they cleaned the parlor when we were in our bedroom or out walking. I rarely saw them and never rang for them.

"Really?" Sylvia looked quite shocked.

"My friend helped me and I helped her." An ache lodged in my heart at the thought of Vi, alone and sad in the attic. Dear lord, take care of her. Don't let her fret too much.

I must have looked quite forlorn because Sylvia took both my hands and gave them a squeeze. "Lucky you don't need a corset."

"I couldn't put it on by myself, and this dress was the only one with buttons down the front."

"It is a lovely dress and I hoped you'd like it, but it is more suited to warmer days."

"I'll be warm enough."

"Yes, of course." She tugged on the bell-pull near the fireplace. A small fire burned in the grate, but it was all the cozy room required. "You've missed breakfast, but I'll have Tommy fetch you something."

"Tommy?"

"The footman."

"You have only the one?"

"We live simply here and have no need of more. Uncle has Bollard to see to his needs, Tommy sees to ours, and there is the housekeeper, Mrs. Moore, two upstairs maids, the cook and a scullery maid. Oh, and Olson the carriageman who oversees the grooms. There are some gardeners too of course, but I don't know how many. Did you have much more at Windamere? I imagine you did, your father being the grand earl that he is."

"I don't know."

"Oh. No. Of course not." She cleared her throat and looked relieved when Tommy the footman entered. She requested a light breakfast be brought to me in the parlor, then indicated I should sit next to her on the settee. "Jack should be ready for you by the time you finish. Something unexpected has arisen this morning that required his attention. He's with Uncle now."

I didn't sit but went to the window instead. Nobody was about outside in the wind. "Does it have something to do with those visitors this morning?"

"You saw them?"

"Yes. Who were they?" I turned back to her, but she was looking down at an embroidery hoop in her lap. A sewing basket lay open at her feet. "Well?" I prompted.

"I'm not sure I'm at liberty to say." She picked up the hoop but didn't stitch. "Let's wait for Jack to arrive."

I was beginning to think Sylvia was very much like Vi. Neither wished to say or do the wrong thing, and both saw their position in the household as a lowly one compared to the other members. At least Sylvia put herself above the servants if her direct manner with Tommy was any indication. Vi had never given Miss Levine an order when she was perfectly within her rights to do so.

"I will take you shopping, you know," Sylvia said.

"Shopping?"

"After you've...settled in."

"I wouldn't hold out much hope. Your cousin doesn't want me to run off. Understandable considering the trouble he went to abducting me. I can't imagine how awful it must have been for him to pretend to be a gardener for two whole weeks."

"Is that sarcasm again?" Sylvia chuckled. "I dare you to say that to his face."

"Be careful. I rarely back down from a dare."

She dropped her needle, and her eyes widened. "It was only a joke. Don't tell him I suggested it."

"Why not? Are you afraid of him?"

She concentrated on her stitching for a long moment, then said, "He can be unpredictable."

Unpredictable. The word was like a siren song to me. I'd lived with routine and order my entire life. I did the same thing, day in and day out, saw the same people, walked the same paths. As much I would do anything to see Vi again, I was missing my life at Windamere less and less with each passing hour. Sylvia was different enough to be interesting, but her cousin was positively exciting. He was a mystery I wanted to solve. That morning, I'd looked for him around every corner, hoped to see him in every room I'd passed through.

"He never complained, you know," she said.

"Jack? About what?"

"About being a gardener. He only returned home once during that time, and all he spoke about was how poorly treated you were. It was he who discovered you were kept in the attic not of your own volition, but on Lord Wade's order."

"How could he possibly have learned that?"

"He said your governess tailed you everywhere on your walks, and that a free woman would not be in need of such close guard."

I was taken aback by this keen observation and rendered quite speechless.

Tommy arrived with my breakfast. I ate toast and poached eggs at the table by the window. Unlike the previous night, I was terribly hungry, and I was intent on finishing everything on my plate when Jack arrived.

"Good morning, ladies," he said. "Sleep well, Violet?"

My mouth was too full to respond in any manner other than a nod. I pressed a napkin to my lips to cover my chewing and to dab away any crumbs. It would be too embarrassing to have such a man as he see me with half my breakfast on my chin. He was too handsome, too self-assured, and I was the naive madwoman kept in an attic most of her life.

That didn't stop me from looking at him. It seemed that every time I set eyes on him, I noticed something new and intriguing. The intensity of his green eyes, the bow-like curve of his mouth, or the small scars on his upper lip and above his right eyebrow. With the sunlight streaming through the window, I saw that his hair had different shades of brown through it. Some light strands, some so dark to be almost black and everything in between.

"Yes, thank you," I finally said, sounding a little breathy.

"I'm afraid our training will have to wait. I must leave for Harborough immediately. I won't be back until this afternoon."

Sylvia set down her embroidery hoop. "Why?"

"August's business."

"Oh."

"Does it have anything to do with those men who were here?" I asked.

"The constabulary?" Sylvia said.

"Police!"

Jack scowled at her. "Syl, hold your tongue."