Page 70 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
But I suppose we’ll have to, unless…Lavinia thought to herself, even as she hardly dared imagine such a possibility.
There was confusion as to the future. She and Archie….
Oh, but I don’t know if he’s just being kind. Could he really… could we, really?
There was no question of her own feelings toward the baron, even as a question remained as to his for her.
He was a closed book at times, and it was clear his thoughts were concerned largely with Gwendolene and discovering the truth as to what had happened to her. But now they were close—she felt certain of it. And when the truth was at last known, what then?
Perhaps he’ll ask me to stay. I’d like that. There’s nothing for me at Tall Chimneys, and even mother can’t possibly still think Lord Bath presents an attractive proposition.
For a while, Lavinia allowed herself to muse on her thoughts of a courtship with Archie. Her feelings for him had grown strong, his initial coldness giving way to glimmers of the man beneath. He was kind, considerate, and courageous… determined to gain justice for his sister.
Lavinia admired these qualities, and she could only hope his feelings for her might be the same. But that was where the question remained—there had been moments of intimacy between them, but as for anything more…
I just don’t know,she thought to herself, sighing as she paused to look down from the drive to where an ancient oak had fallen across the bend in a stream at the bottom of the bank below.
Its branches still bore leaves, but the trunk was entirely uprooted, its huge span creating a hollow where a deep pool had formed, drawn in from the stream. It was an extraordinary sight—just as so much on the Sarum Lacy estate had proved the power of nature, and its beauty.
Lavinia realized it must have been a thousand years old. She could imagine all the people who had sat beneath the branches—lovers, friends, enemies…
“Lavinia? Oh, it’s you, yes, I thought it was you. How lovely to see you,” a voice behind her said.
Lavinia turned, surprised to see Wilhelmina Tipping approaching her.
Lavinia had not thought of herself as someone whom Wilhelmina would speak to on such friendly terms. Their previous encounters had been civil at best, and Lavinia had no doubt as to what Wilhelmina thought of her; a maid, a servant, and someone who did not deserve the position she now possessed.
“Oh… Wilhelmina. I wasn’t expecting to see you,” Lavinia replied, for she could think of no reason why Wilhelmina should be making her way to Sarum Lacy House that morning.
“I’m on my way to call on Archie,” Wilhelmina replied.
She was wearing a purple dress, with a large fascinator on her head, dressed as though for a soiree, rather than a casual call. Her face was covered with a net veil, and though she smiled at Lavinia, there was something of a menace in her eyes…
“Oh… is he expecting you?” Lavinia asked.
Wilhelmina pursed her lips, her expression faltering for a moment, before returning to a smile.
“No, not exactly. But one doesn’t always need an invitation, does one? I wanted to give him these?” she said, holding up an elegantly wrapped box.
“Something sweet?” Lavinia asked, and Wilhelmina nodded.
“Yes… Marzipan. It’s his favorite. There’s a shop in Salisbury. They sell the most delectable Marzipan. I chose them myself,” Wilhelmina said.
Lavinia smiled and nodded. She felt awkward in Wilhelmina’s company. There was something about her she did not like, and not just her haughtiness. Behind her smile, Lavinia sensed something more, a resentment, perhaps, and a challenge, too. There was jealousy there, and the gift of the marzipan surely symbolized so much more…
“I’m sure he’ll be very pleased with them,” Lavinia replied, and Wilhelmina nodded.
“Are you going that way? I presume you are,” she said, and Lavinia had no choice but to tell her she was.
“I’ve just been to call on Penelope Havers,” Lavinia said, and Wilhelmina tutted and shook her head.
“She’s a foolish creature, and about the only woman who hasn’t… well, I don’t have any time for her. How did you find her? Still in mourning for Gwendolene, I suppose. The two of them fell out spectacularly. It’s up to her to put the past behind her. Gwendolene isn’t going to come back to forgive her,” Wilhelmina replied.
Lavinia sighed. She felt sorry for Penelope, but in a way, Wilhelmina was right. Penelope would live her whole life in mourning if she continued on the path of self-pity. Gwendolene was not coming back, as sad as it was to admit it, and Penelope could either wallow in self-pity or find a way to forgive herself.
“No, that’s true,” Lavinia replied.
“It’s certainly true. I feel just as sorry for Gwendolene, dying as she did. It’s a tragedy. But it’s not one for the rest of us to dwell on,” Wilhelmina continued.
