Page 9 of Deception and Desire
Rose’s tongue slid along the seam of her lips as she rolled one shoulder in acome-hithermotion and took one step toward her mistress. “I’m terribly thirsty. Would you be so kind as to get me a lemonade?” she asked huskily in the feigned intonations of a noblewoman, lashes fluttering.
“I may kiss you myself if you come a step closer.”
Rose looked at Fenella and winked. They both burst into loud guffaws. Imitating their elders had instigated their friendship as children. The maid’s prowess at mimicking others had given them hours of entertainment. She could be a French maid one day and a countess the next.
“What’s going on in there?” asked Lady Franklin from the hall, poking her head into the room.
“Nothing, Mother. Just being silly girls,” Fenella answered.
“That will be the day when you take your nose out of the books,” grumbled her mother as she continued past. “You should be choosing a dress and jewelry and deciding how to wear your hair tonight.”
“This is useless. I’m quite happy helping Papa with the ledgers and the estate.” Fenella sighed and fell back onto the bed, arms spread above her head, long legs dangling against the counterpane as her feet brushed the floor. “He has spoiled my chances to be a happy docile wife, raising me as if I were his male heir. No man would give me the same freedom or deference. Evie would be happy to snare a viscount or an earl. Why must I be delegated to find the titled husband?”
Rose ignored the comment, pulled out the jonquil muslin, and held it against her own chest. “What would you like for tonight? This, or the Pomona with the sheer overlay?”
Fenella studied her pretty maid. The yellow was stunning against Rose’s dark hair, dark eyes, and slightly golden skin. “I think it’s time to pass that on to you. I look horrid in that color, no matter what Papa says, and it suits you so much better.”
“You are too generous, Miss Fenella. Though I agree, the jonquil does not do justice to your creamy complexion.” Rose grinned and held the apple-green dress under her mistress’ chin. “Thisgreen will contrast the pale gold of your hair and reflect in your gray eyes. We’ll add the crystal half-tiara with the matching earrings to add a sparkle.”
“I’m pretty, I suppose, but you always manage to make me sound almost beautiful.”
“Because you are.” Rose shook her head. “I don’t know how we can both be looking in the same mirror.”
“Then why does Mother insist I bend my knees and slouch my shoulders to appear shorter?”
“That has nothing to do with your face. Besides, a taller man would appreciate your height.”
“And my intellect?”
“I’ll admit that does pose a problem for most men of theton.”
As they prepared for the ball at Almack’s, Fenella thought of the night ahead. Hours of tedious conversation and the universal pretense that everyone was interested in the weather, the horse races, or who had been with whom at Hyde Park that afternoon. Watery lemonade, stale cucumber sandwiches, and too much dancing. She hated to dance. Her tall frame was not conducive to being twirled around like a rag doll or led gracefully between sets of couples. She always felt awkward, and preferred sitting behind her father’s desk or climbing into a saddle. Yet, her sister Evelina could not wait for the first sounds of the orchestra to strike. Evie was light on her feet, with a petite frame, waves of caramel hair, and doe-like brown eyes.
The sisters were complete opposites.
Fenella wished for the hundredth time that she was not the eldest. She wished for the millionth time that she’d been born a male. But life was never fair, and women must make the most of what was given them. So she would. A smile turned up her lips.
“What’s going on in that lovely head of yours?” asked Rose. Her eyes narrowed as she wound two plaits of Fenella’s hair over and then under a perfect chignon. “It’s a scheme for certain. I’ve seen that glint in your eyes too many times.”
Yes, she had. Rose was seven years older and had been with her since Fenella’s tenth birthday. The maid’s family had come from France during the Revolution. When Rose’s father had died, she and her mother been left destitute. She’d become a trusted confidante and loyal friend. “If I can appear to engage an eligible bachelor or two, then Mother cannot be angry when they are not interested. So, I need to find out what each possible suitor dislikes in a woman and be sure to exhibit that quality.”
“I thought you promised Lady Franklin that you wouldn’t talk of politics or accounts while in Town. And what of your poor sister?” She clucked her tongue and threaded a thin, pale green ribbon through Fenella’s thick tresses. “She cannot accept any man’s advances until you are married. It was your mother’s condition when she agreed to her come-out this season.”
“Evie is the epitome of what every titled gentleman wants in a wife. She’d be married already if Mother would allow it.” She grinned. “On the other matter, there are ways to annoy a man and induce a quick escape. And you’ve been of great assistance in providing me with one more.”
“And I thought you truly wanted to be seductive. Recompense has sharp teeth, and your cleverness may bite you back one day.” Rose shook her head. “There is nothing wrong with men or marriage.”
“I don’tdislikethe idea of marriage. I just don’t think I could trust a man to be sincere… about me.” Fenella leaned her head back against Rose’s stomach, and the woman’s hand moved to cradle her mistress’ face. With a sigh, Fenella moved her cheek into the maid’s palm. “I made such a fool of myself over that viscount last season. I would rather die than be the object of ridicule again.”
“He was vicious, and your father took care of him. He’s one foul trout in a stream of many. Don’t mistrust his whole gender.” Rose waved the hairbrush at the mirror as she locked eyes with her mistress. “It should give you more than a little satisfaction to be balancing the ledgers forhisestate now.”
She nodded. It was bittersweet. Shelton’s father had been furious. Though a minor estate, it had previously been the family seat bequeathed by Henry VIII. The viscount had been married off to a wealthy heiress thought to be on the shelf, then sent packing to the country. His father had made sure he wouldn’t be admitted anywhere in London if he showed his face. Anywhererespectable.
“If my mother knew what happened, she’d be horrified. And find some way to blame me for the catastrophe.”
“I don’t think you always give your mother a fair shake. Lady Franklindoeslove you. But I agree her actions can make her appear shallow.”
“That’s a kind way to say it.” Fenella smiled at the maid’s reflection. “Thank you, dear Rose. Thank you for always being here for me and not judging me.”
