“You are right, Mrs. Cleary,” Beatrice answered, forcing a smile. “I must look at this as a good thing. I had kindness with my mother. Perhaps I shall find kindness with my new husband. Surely with effort, I could make him see me as an asset.”
“That is the spirit, my girl,” Mrs. Cleary praised.
Beatrice nodded but felt her worry spike again as she looked down at her clothing. It had been over decade since she had worn anything other than a maid’s uniform, but she had nothing else. Her father had not afforded her any another sorts of dresses.
As if reading her thoughts, Mrs. Cleary patted her hand and said, “I believe there is still a trunk of your mother’s dresses in the storage room down the hall. I am sure we can find you something more suitable to wear.”
Beatrice raised her arms and wrapped them tightly around Mrs. Cleary.
“I shall miss you, Mrs. Cleary,” Beatrice whispered emphatically as the two women embraced. “Thank you for your kindness.”
“You deserve it and then some, darling girl,” Mrs. Cleary whispered back. She gave Beatrice a final squeeze and then pulled her back, giving her a determined expression.
“Now, we must hurry. You heard your father. He will expect you to be ready when he comes to your door.”
With a nod, Beatrice followed Mrs. Cleary to the storage room, hoping to find at least one suitable dress to wear for her future husband.
CHAPTER TWO
“Could you… could you just tell me one thing,” Beatrice implored. “One thing about my new husband?”
She and Simeon had been in the carriage for over an hour, and he had yet to say a word to her. Aside from taking one long, strange look at her when he’d come to collect her from her attic room, he hadn’t so much as looked at her either.
Beatrice supposed he did not want to look at her because of her mother’s dress. She’d found her mother’s old favorite: a buttercup yellow silk ensemble with glittering beads around the bust and cupped shoulders. It was the stark opposite of her maid’s uniform which consisted of a black wool dress, a dingy grey muslin apron, and an ugly black lace headpiece.
She would have preferred time to bathe and do something a little more special with her chocolate brown hair, but since Simeon refused to give her a time to be ready, she’d just kept it in her usual bun and washed her face and hands in the washstand shared between her and the other maids. Mrs. Cleary hadoffered her a spritz of lavender mist to help offset the scent of cleaning products, but that was the best Beatrice could do.
When Simeon had come to collect her, she had hoped that her father would at least tell her something, but as the minutes turned into an hour and their carriage moved further out of London, Beatrice realized that there would be no information given to her unless she asked for it.
Simeon’s eyes shifted from the darkening scenery beyond the carriage window to Beatrice for only a few seconds. He looked her up and down, as if disappointed in her looks, and turned his gaze back to the setting sun.
“Could you at least tell me what he knows about me?” Beatrice timidly asked when Simeon remained silent.
Again, no answer.
Worry began to gnaw at Beatrice’s stomach as the carriage continued on toward the setting sun. They had passed through London and taken some country road, but now, it looked as if they were approaching another town that Beatrice did not recognize.
“Where are we meeting this gentleman?” she asked, feeling her nerves fray even more. “Fath- Lord Farhampton, please,” she urged, “Tell me something! Who is this gentleman I am to wed? Why did he not come to collect me himself? Where are we meeting at such late an hour?”
“Quiet!” Simeon snapped, causing Beatrice to flinch in her seat. “You have no right to anything; do you understand that? What I am doing for you is a pure kindness that you do not deserve.”
Beatrice gritted her teeth as she looked on at the man who was supposed to be her father.
“Aside from having blue eyes, what have I ever done to make you treat me so poorly?” she asked. “What monstrous travesty am I responsible for to make you hate me so?”
The words came out before Beatrice could stop them, but before she could brace herself for some harsh retort, the carriage stopped. Her relief that they had finally arrived was quickly overtaken by worry as she looked outside the window. She had expected them to be traveling to some sort of house or large estate. At the very last an extravagant apartment building. Instead, their carriage had stopped before what appeared to be some sort of private club or gaming hell.
Beatrice’s hands began to sweat, and her gut clenched as the driver opened the door for them.
“Get out,” Simeon grunted, nodding toward the driver.
Wrapping her arms tightly around her waist, Beatrice shook her head.
“Not until you tell me what we are doing here and what this place is,” she replied. “This is not the home of a gentleman!”
Simeon scoffed as his hand shot out with surprising speed.
“Who said I was marrying you to a gentleman?” he asked.