Page 16 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
“Very good, My Lady,” the butler said, but to everyone’s astonishment, including his own, Archie now rose to his feet.
“It’s all right, I’ll go and find her,” he said, and his mother looked at him in surprise.
“Will you?” she asked, and Archie nodded.
“Yes, just put the food on the plate, Hargreaves,” he said.
Archie had a sudden desire to make amends. Despite his stand-offish behavior, he was somewhat intrigued by Lavinia. She was not like other women Archie had known… those who had been born with a silver spoon in their mouth and knew nothing of the alternative.
He was curious about her, having noticed the bracelet she was wearing, a gold band embossed with the letter “T.” But he was too polite to ask her questions directly, and hoped perhaps, if he apologized, the two of them might make a fresh start, and his questions answered.
“There’s still pudding to come,” his mother said, but Archie’s mind was made up, and now he excused himself, taking the plate of food and leaving the dining room, and the two women, behind.
Out in the hallway, he found one of the maids sweeping the marble floor, and she told him Lavinia was in the drawing room.
“She’s lit the fire, My Lord,” the maid said, and it was Archie’s turn to look surprised, even as he realized it was not so surprising, given the incident with the wine.
Thanking the maid, he crossed the hallway and opened the door into the drawing room. Lavinia was there, kneeling in front of the fire, poking it with the poker, a log of wood in her other hand, her head cocked to one side, as though considering where best to place it.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Archie said, and Lavinia looked up and glared at him.
“I wasn’t about to disturb the servants. They have their dinner once the dining room is served,” she said.
Archie was somewhat taken aback. He did not know when the servants ate their dinner as he had never given it any thought.
“How do you know that?” he asked, still holding her plate of food in hand.
“It’s the same in any grand house. Once the upstairs are served, it’s reckoned there’s at least half an hour before anyone wants anything more in the dining room. That’s when the servants can sit down to their own dinner, then clear away afterwards, or serve the next few courses,” Lavinia said.
She said it in such a way as to appear obvious, but Archie knew nothing of such things. He could not remember the last time he had been in the servant’s hall. It seemed an impropriety to do so, and he could not imagine the servants would be very pleased if he appeared downstairs to disturb them.
“I see,” he said, as Lavinia rose to her feet.
“Is that for me?” she asked, and Archie glanced at the plate, having quite forgotten the purpose of his following her.
“Ah, yes. I thought you might still be hungry,” he said.
He had brought cutlery with him, but had forgotten a napkin, even as Lavinia rose to her feet and nodded.
“I only had two spoonful’s of soup,” she said, taking the plate from him and sitting down on one of the chairs by the fire.
Archie came to sit opposite her, watching as she devoured the plate of roast beef and vegetables. There were a dozen or more imperfections in her comportment, but he thought it better not to mention them, remembering what had happened before, and knowing it was not right to point out a person’s foibles, even as he had previously done so.
“I’m… sorry for my earlier behavior. I was short with you, and about… the bedroom,” Archie said.
On the day his sister had died, Archie had ordered the door of her bedroom to be locked. He had the key, kept safely in his pocket. Occasionally, he would go there, sitting at the side of the bed as tears welled up in his eyes.
He knew it was foolish to rouse his emotions in this way, just as it was to sit at his sister’s graveside in sad lament. But Archie needed something to cling to, and in sitting by the empty bed or at the grave, he felt closer to his sister than he could in mere thoughts and memories.
“Youwererather rude. I’m just not used to all this. But… I’m sorry, too. I know you’re grieving for your sister, and I meant it when I told you understand what it feels like. I might not have been close to my father, but he was still my father, and losing him wasn’t easy,” Lavinia said.
Archie nodded. He felt guilty for having dismissed her grief so readily. It was hardly right to assume how another was feeling, or to place one’s own feelings above another’s. He had seen the different ways grief could manifest itself in the example of his mother. She had been stoic over Gwendolene’s death, but there was no doubt as to the way she felt inside. She missed her just as much as Archie did, and it would have been wrong to say otherwise.
“Yes, I understand. It’s not been easy, you see,” he said, and Lavinia nodded.
“No, I’m sure it hasn’t. You loved your sister dearly, I can see that,” she said.
Archie was not used to talking about his sister. He thought about her a great deal; she was his first thought on waking, and his last thought on going to bed at night. But as for talking about her, it seemed strange. He and his mother rarely spoke of Gwendolene. It was too upsetting for them both, and yet with Lavinia—a perfect stranger—the prospect of doing so seemed easier.
