Page 19 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
Lavinia nodded, playing her cards, and trying to concentrate on the game in hand. But try as she might, she could not stop thinking about the baron, about the touch of his lips against theback of her hand, and about the way he had made her feel as they had gazed into one another’s eyes.
“It’s your turn again, Lavinia,” her mother said, and Lavinia nodded.
“I think I’m getting the hang of this game,” she said, hoping cards were not the only thing she was mastering in her elevation from pauper to Lady…
Chapter 7
“You don’t belong here… not among us. Why don’t you go back to the scullery?” one of the women said, laughing, as her companions jeered alongside her.
Lavinia felt the tears rising in her eyes. She was at a ball. A grand occasion, where fashionably dressed men and women paraded past her. But she was all alone, an outcast, looking around her in desperation as others looked on and laughed.
“The scullery maid in her new dress. Won’t you fetch the refreshments, dear? I’ve got some embroidery for you to do,” another woman said, peering at Lavinia through a pair of opera glasses.
Music was playing—a string quartet—and Lavinia found herself in the middle of a great crowd of people, jostling her back and forth as the music continued to play.
“Please, I don’t understand,” she exclaimed, and all of them laughed as one.
“You’ll never understand. This isn’t your place. You belong in the scullery with the other servants. Mutton dressed as lamb, that’s what you are,” a man with a powdered face and ill-fitting white wig said, leering at her.
“No, it is my place, I simply have to learn…” Lavinia said.
“You can’t learn this. You’re either born to it or not,” another woman said, and Lavinia felt tears welling up in her eyes.
All of them were pointing at her, laughing at her, and now, she looked down at her dress. But it was no longer the pretty blue dress she had arrived in, with its lace frills and open neck. She was wearing rags; the ragged clothes of a scullery maid, with ill-fitting shoes on her feet, her toes poking through the ends.
“No, but it can’t be…” she exclaimed, as a crowd surged around her.
“You don’t belong here, go back to the scullery…” one of them said.
Lavinia awoke with a start. She had been dreaming, but her dream had felt terrifyingly real. It was early, judging by it still being dark outside, and Lavinia rolled over, yawning, as she tried to put the events of the dream out of her mind. But despite it being “just a dream,” what it had meant had felt all too real.
She did feel like an outcast in society, and she knew there were those who did not think she belonged “above stairs.” There had been whisperings, and she thought, too, of the condescendingbehavior of Lord Bath, who had assumed so much about her, even as he knew nothing of her at all.
I won’t always feel like this,she thought, and closing her eyes, tried to go back to sleep… knowing those feelings of inadequacy would persist, and fearing as to the next wrong move she would make.
***
Lavinia was still not used to sleeping until whenever she wished. She would wake up at the crack of dawn, and for a moment, she would think it was time to get up and light the fire, fetch water from the pump, and prepare the breakfast trays. But all these things were now someone else’s job, and instead, Lavinia lay in bed, watching the gradual rising of the sun through the half open curtains.
The bed had been exceptionally comfortable, and she had slept deeply, after the uncomfortable events of her dream had passed. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes, knowing she had to wait for Daisy or one of the other maids to bring her a cup of tea and help her get dressed. This was the order of things, or so her grandfather might say.
What a horrible dream it was,Lavinia thought to herself, even as she reminded herself she was far away from the wagging tongues of the ton.
Sarum Lacy House felt like another world, cut off from everything. It, too, was like a dream, and Lavinia was looking forward to exploring the gardens and estate. The dowager had talked of woodlands filled with wildflowers, and grassy paths stretching for miles along meandering streams.
Lavinia would take a book from the library, and find a secluded spot in the garden to read, or walk through the woods and by the streams, lost in her own thoughts. If there was one thing she was glad of in her new life, it was time to think. She enjoyed her own company, and to have the time to think about those things she had once been too busy to contemplate, was a joy.
“Good morning, Miss Stuart. I trust you slept well,” Daisy said, as she entered Lavinia’s bedroom at the precise striking of the clock on the mantelpiece.
It was eight O’clock, and Daisy informed Lavinia breakfast would be served at ten in the dining room.
“Her Ladyship likes to walk before breakfast. She’s an early riser,” Daisy said, as she busied herself with helping Lavinia to get up.
Lavinia, too, liked the idea of an early morning walk, but she was curious, too, as to the baron. What was his early morning routine? Did he walk in the grounds or spend his time in his study? He seemed dedicated to his duty, but Lavinia wonderedhow much his sister’s death had drawn him away from the practicalities of his title, causing him to retreat from the world, and from his responsibilities.
“And the baron?” Lavinia asked.
Daisy shook her head.
