“Step three is getting Henry to agree to the marriage,” Algernon confessed. “You see… he does not yet know that he is to be married.”
Beatrice stood in shock long after Algernon said his goodbye and left her to rest. She was trying her best to wrap her mind around everything that had happened in the last several hours, but it was if she could not quite grasp such a reality. That morning had been so normal. She had woken up in the attic, dressed in her maid uniform, and went to work. She took the berating of her stepmother and stepsister in silence as she completed her chores. She kept her head down as her father shot her dirty looks. She kept her tears to herself as she mourned her mother and the life she once had.
Now, it was time for something new. Even if getting to this point was terrifying, the era for change had approached, and Beatrice wanted it.
“Pardon, my lady?”
Beatrice jolted from her shock and looked up. She met the pretty face of a young maid, who gave her a tentative smile before curtsying.
“Forgive me for startling you, my lady,” the maid offered. “I did knock first.”
Beatrice shook her head and moved toward the maid to help her stand up straight. After the life she had lived, it did not feel right to her to have someone else bow to her.
“That is quite all right,” Beatrice replied. “I did not hear you. I thought the Duke said it was too late for servants to be available?”
“Normally, yes, but His Grace roused me and asked me to make sure that you were comfortably settled,” the maid replied. Pity flashed through the maid’s soft brown eyes as she gave Beatrice another tentative smile. “His Grace suggested that you might have had quite the awful day and might need some assistance settling down.”
Beatrice let out a dry laugh and nodded.
“You could say that,” she acknowledged. “Yes, I suppose His Grace would be correct. Please, may I ask your name?”
“Mira, my lady,” the maid answered. She moved to curtsey again, and again, Beatrice stopped her.
“Please, do not do that,” Beatrice insisted.
“As you wish, my lady,” Mira replied softly. “I am heating water for a bath for you, and there are some leftovers in the larder that I could bring up for you to nibble on. Some lamb and parsnips and other fixings. Or I could make you something fresh?”
Beatrice’s stomach grumbled loudly at Mira’s words, and it was only then she realized she hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before.
“Whatever you bring me shall be suitable,” Beatrice replied, placing a hand over her empty stomach, “And a bath sounds positively lovely. Do you need help bringing up the tub?”
Mira laughed softly as she shook her head.
“Oh, no, my Lady, you have your own bathing suite just through that door over there. The tub remains there, and we keep a reserve of water for heating in there as well, so we may prepare you a bath whenever you wish.”
Beatrice’s brows rose in surprise. She had never heard of such a thing. At her father’s house, she and other maids were constantly having to bring the heavy tub from Verity’s room to Elpseth’s to her father’s. Then, of course, there was the arduous task of heating and bringing multiple buckets of water.
“You have nothing to worry about while you are here, my lady,” Mira insisted, as if sensing Beatrice’s discomfort. “His Grace has made it clear that you are his guest. Please, relax. I shall fetch your vittles, and when you are finished eating, I shall help you into your bath.”
Though still uncomfortable with the sudden shift of her life, Beatrice nodded. As she waited for Mira to return with her dinner, she walked over to the vanity and delicately traced her fingers along the ivory brushes and combs. They were far fancier than the basic wooden one she had brought from home, but she was thankful they were not silver like Verity’s or Elspeth’s.
After studying them a moment longer, Beatrice sat down, loosed her hair from its remaining pins, and tentatively picked up the finely made brush. Her eyes rose to the mirror then she began to brush her hair. The soft bristles parted her tendrils gently, and she smiled at the lack of discomfort. As she brushed, Beatrice took in her reflection. She looked the same as yesterday she wagered. Yet as she took in the delicate curve of her brows, the small slope of her nose, the planes of her cheeks, and the plumpness of her lips, she felt as if she was looking at a completely different person.
Then she realized something—she was different. She was no longer a servant. No longer one of the lost. Her life had changed, and she was determined to leave the past behind her.
Beatrice ate the cold mutton and parsnips with a quickness once Mira returned with them, and when she was finished with her plate, Mira had filled her bath. Despite Mira’s insistence to help her disrobe, Beatrice dismissed the maid and undressed herself. Standing naked before the fireplace, Beatrice balled up the dress and threw it into the flames. Yes, it might have been her mother’s, but it also represented a night that she would never want to remember. A night that she would never be able to forget.
She stepped into the warm water and sank down into the tub as she kept her eyes on the burning dress. It was only when the last of the fabric turned black and curled in on itself that she drew her head under the water and let herself be fully submerged by its heat. When she drew up from the water and took her breath, Beatrice vowed to shed her past completely.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Is the dress suitable? The fabric— Is it comfortable enough? I do not know the least bit about dresses and entrusted my housekeeper to?—”
Though she barely knew Algernon, Beatrice reached toward his hand and gave it a warm squeeze. It was funny how the tables had turned since the night before, and now, it wasshethat was comforting him.
“It is fine, Your Grace,” she assured him with a gentle tone. “The fabric is lovely. Your housekeeper did a wonderful job picking it out.”
She meant it too. It was a soft champagne silk with blue and purple flowers dyed into it. It had been a bit baggy at first, but with Mira’s gift for sewing, it now draped perfectly around Beatrice’s figure.