Page 46 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
“It’s certainly a very special place. I remember the first time I came to Sarum Lacy House; I had just the same feeling as you,” she said.
“Perhaps you’ll take me out to walk in the gardens with you, Archie,” Wilhelmina said, a look of hopeful expectation coming over her face.
“I’ve changed out of my outdoor clothes now. Besides, I’ve got business to attend to. The affairs of the estate don’t just see to themselves, you know,” Archie replied.
He had had enough of this—of false shows of friendliness, of curt formalities, of assumptions being made. Setting down his cup and saucer, he rose to his feet.
“Archie? Where are you going?” his mother said, looking at him sternly, but Archie had had enough.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do. Good day to you, Lady Tipping,” Archie said, and before anyone could object, he had left the room.
He smiled to himself as he closed his study door, knowing just what Wilhelmina would be thinking. She was jealous of Lavinia, even as she would never admit it. But Lavinia had somethingWilhelmina and her ilk would never have—the confidence to be herself.
With Lavinia, there were no airs and graces. She was as she was, and spoke as she felt. It was a refreshing change from the curt formalities of most women, who hid their true feelings behind a veneer, only to reveal them to others in vindictiveness and back-stabbing.
And why should I put up with that?Archie wondered, returning to the neglected pile of correspondence on his desk.
***
“Really, I don’t know what’s got into him,” the dowager said, as the door of the drawing room closed.
Lavinia stole a glance at Wilhelmina, whose expression was set in thunder.
“I… well, I won’t remain here any longer,” Wilhelmina said, setting down her empty teacup and rising to her feet.
Lavinia rose, too, as did her mother, the two of them exchanging glances as Archie’s mother continued to apologize for him.
“I’m sure he’s just… well, men can be strange creatures, can’t they?” she said, and Wilhelmina glared at her.
“He certainly can,” she said, and with a curt nod of her head, she left the drawing room, not even thanking the dowager for her hospitality.
As the door closed, Archie’s mother sighed.
“Wilhelmina Tipping always was a difficult creature. But never mind. I’m sure she’ll recover herself in due course,” the dowager said.
Lavinia felt confused. She did not know why Wilhelmina had come to Sarum Lacy House that morning, or why Archie had been so rude to her, though perhaps it was simply because she was a detestable woman. Lavinia smiled to herself at the thought, though she did not dare voice her opinion out loud. She had come to realize it was sometimes best to keep one’s thoughts to oneself—even if theyweretrue.
“What were you thinking of, Lavinia? Going out to walk with the baron unchaperoned,” her mother whispered, as the servants came in to clear away the tea things.
“I went out by myself for a walk. We met one another. It wasn’t planned,” Lavinia replied, and her mother tutted.
“There are ways of doing things, Lavinia. You can’t just… do as you please anymore,” she said, but Lavinia shook her head.
“And why not? Who makes these silly rules? Why must we all be so bound by convention. Nature isn’t,” she said, thinking of the flowers growing freely in the meadows, casting their beauty wherever they pleased.
She did not understand why everything she said and did was now bound by so many unwritten conventions. Rules pervaded every aspect of her life. She could not escape them, and while she was discovering new ones on a daily basis, it seemed she was breaking them, too, at every turn.
“Well… it’s just the way it is, Lavinia. You’re not a maid any longer. You have a different place in society,” she said, and Lavinia sighed.
There were times she would gladly have returned to her old life. She had known her place then, and she had known the rules. But this…
“Why did she come? Wilhelmina, I mean? What was she trying to do?” Lavinia asked, and her mother rolled her eyes.
“Oh, Lavinia—don’t you understand? She was sizing up the competition,” she replied, shaking her head, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
But Lavinia did not consider herself anyone’s competition, for she was yet to understand her own feelings—let alone compete with another’s.
“But… I’m not trying to…” she began, but her mother interrupted her.
