Page 64 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
“No, thank you, Daisy. I don’t need a chaperone to visit another woman. It’s all so ridiculous, isn’t it? My mother wouldn’t have cared about a chaperone when I was a maid, the other maids were always stepping out with this man or that. But suddenly, I can’t set foot outside the house, or so much as look at a man without being escorted,” Lavinia replied.
Daisy smiled.
“You live in a very different world now, Miss Stuart,” she said, and Lavinia groaned.
“Yes, and don’t I know it?” she replied.
There were times when she longed for the freedoms of her previous life, though Lavinia knew she had exchanged freedom for privilege. The life of a maid was hard, and Lavinia was alwaysmindful of how she treated Daisy, and any servant with whom she had dealings.
“But you don’t miss it, do you? Getting up at an ungodly hour each morning, rushing from job to job with no time to yourself? His Lordship treats us well, but we’re still servants. It’s a hard life. I envy you yours,” Daisy said.
Her words might be taken as insolence by a woman who had known only the privileged life Lavinia now enjoyed. But Lavinia well understood what she meant.
“Yes… I’m sorry, Daisy. It’s a false nostalgia for the past, isn’t it? I really am very lucky. It was all so unexpected, I suppose. I don’t really feel like I belong here. Is that a terribly foolish thing to say? Any moment, I expect someone to tell me I shouldn’t be here. Have them take my privileges away and send me forth, back to the life I knew,” Lavinia replied.
Shedidfeel insecure, and the behavior of others toward her—the likes of Wilhelmina and Lord Bath—did nothing for her confidence.
“And if they did, you’d still be the same woman, Miss Stuart. You understand what it means to come from nothing. Most women like you don’t. They’re born with a silver spoon in their mouths, and that’s how they die. But you’re not like that, Miss Stuart—never forget it,” Daisy said.
“But I sometimes wonder if I’m good enough,” Lavinia replied.
Daisy would think she was talking about the practicalities of her new life, but what Lavinia really meant was the question of being good enough for Archie. She had thought about it a great deal, and as they had grown closer, Lavinia had feared there would come a moment when he would back away. Perhaps hewouldmarry Wilhelmina, or some other aristocratic woman, and Lavinia would be left with nothing.
“Oh… you’re good enough, Miss Stuart. And let me tell you—all the servants here think so, too. You’re a breath of fresh air compared to the likes of Wilhelmina and Penelope,” she said.
At the mention of Penelope, Lavinia pricked up her ears. Until now, Penelope Havers had been something of an unknown quantity. She had been Gwendolene’s best friend, and yet it seemed the illness had caused a rift between them; one they had not been able to reconcile.
“What’s she like? Penelope Havers, I mean,” Lavinia said.
The maid blushed.
“I’m sorry, Miss Stuart. I shouldn’t speak ill of my betters,” she said, but Lavinia shook her head.
“She’s not your better, Daisy. She’s a woman just like you. I should know,” Lavinia said, for she had no intention of separating others by rank and class.
Daisy pondered for a moment.
“Well… she and Miss Gwendolene were the closest of friends. If Penelope wasn’t here, then Miss Gwendolene would be at the lodge. They’d see one another every day. But something came between them in those last few months. I wondered if perhaps Penelope… Miss Havers… was fearful for her own mortality. Some people are like that. Death scares them, and when they’re confronted by it, they wonder if they’re next,” she said, shaking her head.
Lavinia nodded. She was curious to meet Penelope, though Daisy’s description of her added nothing to any suspicion. But the question of who had killed Gwendolene remained, and right now, anyone was a suspect.
“I’m going to visit her. Archie’s mother… the dowager… suggested it. Apparently, she and her betrothed are having some difficulties. It rumored the betrothal won’t last,” Lavinia said.
Daisy shook her head and sighed.
“It’s so sad when that happens. But if it’s not meant to be…” she said, and Lavinia nodded.
“Some things are meant to be, some things aren’t,” she said, and as she left the house that morning, before anyone else had risen, she pondered her own words, wondering if she and Archie were meant to be.
***
“Has Lavinia already gone out?” Archie asked, finding his mother and Octavia at breakfast when he came down that morning.
His mother looked up from her toast and marmalade and nodded.
“Yes, she’s gone to see Penelope. I asked her to call. I feel so sorry for Penelope. She and Michael… can’t you do something?” his mother asked, as Archie sat down at the breakfast table.
Archie’s own sympathies for Penelope were limited. She had, in his opinion, largely failed in her duties as a friend in the last weeks of Gwendolene’s life. He had seen the upset in his sister’s face at Penelope’s apparent indifference to her illness. She had stopped visiting, and had not even written to Gwendolene, whohad confided in Archie as to her disbelief that a friendship of a lifetime had counted for nothing at the end.
