Page 35 of A Maid's Fateful Courtship
Ethan was somewhat relieved his brother did not persist as he preferred to keep the secret of his desires close to his chest. But still, his brother had annoyed him by going on about Lady Matilda.“You can be intolerable at times,” Ethan barked at him and turned tail to walk out of the room.
He found himself once again outside in the fresh, cool air, which, in all honesty, was the best place to be. He had had his full of Cynthia’s constant celebrations to welcome them home. In his view, party after party was unbearable, and he looked forward to all the house guests departing.
In no mood for small talk, he stretched his legs out into a stroll, all be it in the darkness of the gardens. Thank goodness Cynthia did not arrange a ball, he thought. It would have gone on until the early hours of the morning, whereas the soiree would end at a decent hour. He would return at the end of the evening, when most of the guests were finally leaving, hoping he was not missed.
Ethan knew his way around the gardens well, and the moon provided adequate lighting for his evening stroll. He stayed within the grounds of the manor house, the music floating in the wind to his ears. His stomach complained at the lack of food, but he had no desire to return to the noisy gathering.
Instead, he allowed his thoughts to run freely, and in no time only one image filled his mind, that of Josephine. He was glad she was not in the hall serving the guests. It was a role he did not like to see her in. No doubt she would be downstairs, staying in the background as she organised the event.
You should be a part of that event, and not hidden away from it. Better still, you should be wearing a glittering dancing dress, and be the lady who places her lacy, gloved hand upon my arm.
Arriving at a wooden bench, he sat down to watch the silver moon disappear behind a wispy cloud.
Oh, what’s the point of such wishful thinking! It will never be, will it, my love?
Chapter 27
The linen cupboard was looking somewhat threadbare, as it usually did when they had so many beds to make up for houseguests. It also meant lots of extra laundry for Josephine to sort through, and she was pleased the celebrations were almost at an end.
Sighing, she left the housekeeping room and continued down the corridor to check all was quiet. Most of the upstairs household staff should be in their rooms by now and fast asleep. They were all overtired from the extra work of the last few days. The guests had also retired to their bedchambers and, as expected, the hallways were quiet.
There would no doubt still be kitchen staff tending to their final duties of the evening. They were often last to their beds, yet first to be up. Josephine had decided to check on the large hall where most of the mess had been.
She wanted to make sure everything was cleared away so they could put all the furniture back in its place early in the morning.
As she entered the hall, she could see there was still much work to be done. It would be an early start for the butler and the stewards to get the large room back to normal. She walked around it, holding an oil lamp that did not put out much light in such a large room.
To better see, she started to open the heavy drapes that had only been closed for the party. Instantly, the silvery moonlight flooded in, allowing her to assess the work required. The upstairs maids would need to remove all the garlands. Now that the heavy drapes had been moved, she could see that they were quite dusty. Over the next few days, she would arrange for them to be changed.
With the large hall illuminated by the pale moonlight, she admired all the beauty of the decorations that remained. The maids had made every effort to decorate the hall for the soirée, and it always seemed such a shame when it came time to take them all down. All that effort, and all for such a short amount of time. Her mind drifted to how it must have looked earlier in the evening. It would have been at its best when all the lords and ladies were making merry.
All the candles would have shimmered through the crystal glass holders. The display of food would have been excellent, knowing Martha. And there had been a small orchestra playing in one of the corners. She imagined the ladies in their bright dancing dresses; they always looked so pretty.
Looking at the clearing they had made for the dancing area, she envisioned herself in such finery. In her mind, she could see the delicate footsteps the ladies would have performed in each dancing set.
She could still hear the orchestral melodies, for the music had echoed throughout the manor house. Without realising it, she started to hum a tune, as if they were still playing.
Oh my! Imagine what it must be like to dance in this big hall,she thought. Her humming continued as she thought of herself dancing in the hall. Although conscious of what she was doing she had no care as she lifted her lamp, pretending it to be a dance partner. Her body started to sway to the tune in her head.
Josephine had been taught how to dance, as one of the expected skills of a young lady. She recalled how, as a girl, she would sneak out of her bed chamber and watch all the beautiful ladies dancing with the handsome lords. That was the image in her head at that very moment.
Her younger self could not wait to grow up and join in with all the dancing and merriment. Although, in those days, the marquess held many more balls than he did now.
Of course, her partner could be no other than the handsome Lord Ethan himself. Her card would be full of dances with him, all night long. The whole crowd of lords and ladies would watch on in envy at how gracefully they danced together.
Then, the gossip mongers would discuss how many dances they had counted.Glory be... we would dance for more than the expected two sets. We would be inseparable.
The music in her mind led her around the dance floor. She twirled and swayed as she hummed to the rhythm of the melody in her head. Her feet felt as light as a feather and her imaginary partner held her protectively close. They stared into one another’s eyes as they danced. How handsome Ethan looked in his refined jacket, how wonderful his hands would feel around her waist.
***
Ethan had been tossing and turning between his sheets and could stand it no more. Kicking his legs out of the bed, he pulled on his pants and buttoned up a shirt; he needed to take a walk.
The corridors were still and quiet. He felt almost envious that all the guests seemed to be sleeping so well in their beds. Taking to the large stairway, he headed down the steps, though he had no real thought about where he was headed.
As a boy, he had often wandered into the warmth of the kitchen. Martha had always seemed to be there, and she would make him a warm cup of milk. It had worked then so perhaps it would work this night and calm his worries.
He turned to head for the stairs that led down to the kitchen, and as he did, something caught his eye. One of the double doors to the large hall was slightly ajar and he could see movement in there. Unless they had ghosts, he could only assume that one of the guests was also having trouble sleeping. Ethan changed his course of direction and headed for the hall to check that all was well.
