A Lady of Notoriety. Diane Gaston
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came downstairs for dinner.’ He spoke with a confidence a maid would not question. ‘I realise I am early, but if you direct me to the dining room, I would be grateful.’
‘It is early for dinner, sir,’ she said. ‘Would you like to wait in the drawing room? Mrs Asher said we are to announce dinner to her in the drawing room.’
‘The drawing room it is, then.’ Hugh smiled. ‘Can you show me where it is?’
‘Oh!’ The maid sounded as if she’d just figured out a big puzzle. ‘You cannot see and you haven’t been there yet! I remember Mrs Asher saying you were taken directly upstairs.’
He heard her approach him.
She touched his arm. ‘Come with me.’ She led him to the right and through the threshold of the drawing room. ‘I think Mrs Asher will be here soon. She and Monette are talking about our new dresses, you see, so I expect she will come here after that.’
‘I expect so,’ he replied.
‘Begging your pardon, sir, I should be about my duties.’ She said this with a surprising sense of pride.
‘Thank you for your help, Mary.’ He did not wish her to leave quite yet. ‘I have just one question.’
‘Yes, sir?’ She sounded very young. And inexperienced. Otherwise she would not talk so much.
‘How long have you worked for Mrs Asher?’ Because the lady had not informed him of the presence of a housemaid.
‘Oh, this is my first day, sir. For me and my sister, Ann. So I must not dawdle.’ She paused. ‘May I go, sir?’
‘By all means.’ Were the extra maids hired because of him? ‘Thank you again, Mary.’
She gave a nervous little laugh and he heard the door close.
Once again he was in a strange room with no sense of his bearings.
But he was getting used to it. He turned around and listened carefully for the hiss of the fire and the heat of it on his skin. He memorised the location of the fireplace and the location of the doorway. Somewhere in between there would be chairs and other seating. He trod carefully until he found one. When he was still, he also heard the ticking of a clock. Good. He’d keep track of time that way.
The half-hour, then three-quarters chimes sounded.
Shortly after, the door opened and Hugh smelled roses.
‘My goodness.’ It was Mrs Asher. ‘Mr Westleigh, you gave me a start!’
He stood. ‘My apologies.’
‘What are you doing here?’ She did not sound very pleased.
‘Carter said dinner was at eight. Since I am not confined to bed, I saw no reason to trouble your servants to wait on me.’
She came closer. ‘But Carter did not tell me—’
‘I did not consult with him.’
She sounded confused. ‘Then how did you get here? From upstairs, I mean.’
He straightened. ‘The way of all men, I suppose. I walked.’
‘By yourself?’
‘Well, I made it to the hall by myself,’ he said. ‘Mary helped me to the drawing room.’
‘Mary?’ She sounded confused again. ‘Oh. Mary. The new maid. That was kind of her.’ She paused before saying, ‘Do sit, Mr Westleigh.’
He lowered himself back into the chair.
She was a puzzle to him. She’d taken the trouble to bring him into her home to care for him, yet at the same time she seemed displeased at his presence. She was a woman who concealed things, that was certain.
He heard her move about the room.
‘Would you like a glass of claret before dinner?’ Good manners crept back into her voice.
‘I would dearly like a glass of claret.’ He missed wine. He missed brandy even more. He wondered if she would have brandy for after dinner.
He heard her open a cabinet and then heard the sound of pouring liquid. She handed the glass to him.
The scent of the claret was pleasure enough. Fruity and spicy, he savoured the aroma before taking a sip. Drinking from a wine glass proved to be quite easy. And the smooth, earthy flavour was a comfort to his sore throat. He felt like gulping.
He heard her sit. ‘I understand you just hired Mary and another maid. If that was because of me, you must permit me to bear the expense.’ Might as well speak plainly. She might like to conceal, but he favoured being above board.
‘The expense is nothing.’ She indeed made it sound as if it was a trifle. ‘And I did not hire them because of you, not precisely. They needed the work and I thought it would make it easier on everyone to have more help.’
‘I should still like to compensate you for the trouble I am causing you.’
‘Please say no more about money.’ She spoke the word as if it left a bad taste on her tongue. ‘I detest talk of money. I have well enough money to be a good hostess, you know. You are here to recuperate and that is what you shall do. The cost of it means nothing to me.’
Why was she so tense?
He tried some humour. ‘Are you a wealthy widow, then?’
She was silent for a moment before answering in a serious tone, ‘Yes. I am a wealthy widow.’
They drank their claret in such silence Hugh could hear the ticking of the clock and each small rustle of her skirts, but it did not take long for Carter to come to the door to announce dinner.
‘Dinner is served, m’l— Oh!’ He cut himself off. ‘Mr Westleigh! You are here.’
‘Mr Westleigh will eat dinner in the dining room with me, Carter.’ Mrs Asher made it sound as if nothing was amiss. She must be practised in hiding emotions from servants.
‘Very good, ma’am,’ Carter said. ‘I shall run ahead and set his place.’
Hugh heard Mrs Asher stand, and rose himself, offering her his arm—or hoping he was not merely posturing to the air.
Her fingers curled around his upper arm. ‘I’ll show you to the dining room.’
He smiled. ‘That is a good thing, else I might wander the house bumping into walls.’
‘You were very clever making it to the drawing room.’ She did not sound annoyed.
Perhaps this was a truce of sorts.
She led him out the door. ‘We are crossing the hall. The dining room is on the other side, a mirror to this room. The cottage really has a very simple plan.’
So, coming down the steps, the drawing room was to the left; the dining room to the right. ‘What other rooms are on this floor?’
‘A library behind the drawing room,’ she began.
He cut her off with a laugh. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll make much use of that.’
Her step faltered. ‘Behind the dining room is an ante-room with cupboards for dishes and cutlery and such. From that room there are stairs down to the kitchen and housekeeper’s rooms.’
He was able to visualise it. It did not seem like a large home for a wealthy widow, though.
They crossed the threshold to the dining room and she walked with him to what must have been the head of the table.
He heard the chair being pulled out. She released his arm and sat.
Carter came to his side. ‘Your chair is here, sir.’ He helped him to a seat adjacent to hers.
‘Our meal will be rather