Page 4 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t have done,” Lavinia admitted.
“Your father had his function, too, didn’t he?” her grandfather persisted, and Lavinia nodded.
Her father had been a merchant, though not a very successful one, and Lavinia had resigned herself to a life of service, before discovering the truth as to her aristocratic connections.
Her mother had been estranged from her grandfather, but his advancing years had meant a thawing in views of her elopement with Lavinia’s father, and he had desired a reconciliation. On hearing of the death of her father, Lavinia’s grandfather had sought them out, and the rest was history.
“I’m sorry, Burns. I’m just not used to… all this,” Lavinia said, looking around her at the grandeur of her grandfather’s dining room.
Tall Chimneys was a magnificent house, set in its own grounds, and with more rooms than Lavinia had yet explored.
“It’s quite all right, Miss Stuart,” the butler replied, as he poured the coffee for Lavinia.
This was something else Lavinia was not yet used to. As a maid, albeit in a house with a kindly mistress, she had never been addressed in such formal terms. There, she was merely “Lavinia,” and her position was a lowly one. Now, she was elevated to the ranks of the aristocracy, and her grandfather had done much to introduce her to the ton, albeit with mixed results.
“I just feel… well, I want to do more,” Lavinia said, and her grandfather raised his eyebrows.
“But what do you mean, more?” he asked, and Lavinia sighed.
She was used to hard work. As a child, Lavinia had worked day and night alongside her parents, fetching and carrying in the warehouse where her father stored the myriad of things he bought and sold by way of making money. As soon as she was old enough, not wanting to be a burden on her parents, Lavinia had entered service, where long hours and few days off were the order of things.
To find herself suddenly idle, and with little more to do than read, and change her dresses to fit whatever social occasion came next, did not come naturally to her. She wanted to be doing something—anything—to feel useful. But her grandfather was insistent.
Her place was among the aristocracy, a world she found strange and unsettling. Her grandfather had been unfailingly kind toher, and to her mother, whom Lavinia knew was so grateful to be reunited with the father she had thought lost. But as for being what she now was, Lavinia found it challenging, to say the least.
“Well, as a maid, I was up every morning by six to make the fires. Then there were the beds to see to, sweeping and dusting, polishing, fetching, and carrying. I never stayed down, but now, I hardly stand up,” Lavinia replied.
She was almost envious of the servants. Her grandfather spoke of each person having their place in the natural order of things, but for Lavinia, her place was confused, and she felt uncertain of where she belonged. Not upstairs, but not downstairs, either. Her grandfather had promised to introduce her to society at the proper time, intending to allow her to get used to her new way of life.
But Lavinia did not think she would ever get used to it. She missed her former ways—the camaraderie between the servants, the dinners in the servant’s hall, the outings on their days off. Now, Lavinia felt alone. She had not made any friends—the introductions her grandfather had made for her often resulting in misunderstandings. And as for her future prospects, Lavinia remained uncertain what was expected of her…
“But you’re not a maid anymore, Lavinia. You don’t have to do anything like that anymore. Aren’t you pleased about that?” her grandfather asked.
Lavinia could not very well say she was in two minds about the matter. She knew her new life would take some getting used to, but the thought of being forever idle filled her with dread.
“Yes, I am,” Lavinia said, and her grandfather smiled.
“You’ll get used to it, Lavinia. Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to fall into line. I just want what’s best for you,” he said.
Lavinia knew what was coming next. Her grandfather had spoken of it on numerous occasions since her arrival at Tall Chimneys. The question of her marriage…
“I know you do, grandfather,” she said.
“And once you’re married. It’ll be easier. Navigating the whims and wills of society can’t be easy, Lavinia. But you’ve already proved yourself, and I’m sure it won’t be long before an eligible suitor presents himself,” her grandfather said, signaling to the butler to pour him another cup of coffee.
If Lavinia was yet to get used to the ways of her new life, she was certainly still to get used to the idea of a marriage being arranged for her. In service, she had given the matter little thought, presuming marriage would occur for her when the right time—and the right man—came. But in the world of the aristocracy, things were very different.
Introductions were made, arrangements were pressed, and marriage was more a matter of making the right match than falling in love. Lavinia’s grandfather had first mentioned the matter a week or so after she and her mother had arrived at Tall Chimneys.
Lavinia had not given it much thought, but her grandfather had been persistent. He had introduced her to several potential suitors, all of whom Lavinia had found wanting. She disliked them all, and when one in particular had persisted, she had shied away.
“But not Lord Bath,” Lavinia said, and her grandfather raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t see what’s wrong with Lord Bath, Lavinia. He’s a perfectly good and decent man,” he replied, but Lavinia shook her head.
She had first met the Earl of Bath at a ball in London, just a few weeks after her unexpected elevation. She had been nervous, not knowing what to do or what to say, and dreading the moment she would be expected to dance.
Lord Bath had appeared charming at first, though Lavinia had soon come to realize he was the sort of man who liked to find himself in a position of power. He had purposefully sought herout, having, it seemed, heard the remarkable story of what her grandfather had done for her.
