“Most likely in her room, sleeping the day away, if I had to guess. She may have recovered from the fever, but she has not had any success with getting rid of the exhaustion that came with her illness. There is a melancholy air about her, as well.”
Lady Gainsbourne took a long sip of her tea, then set it aside and moved to sit beside the Duchess, patting her hand.
“How long has she been in this state?”
“Ever since the twins showed her that awful piece about Lady Duncan’s Ball inThe Society Reporter.”
“I saw it.” Lady Gainsbourne winced, shaking her head. “Whoever wrote it must really wish to hurt Eugenia, or mayhap your family in general.”
“I don’t understand it at all.” The mantel clock ticked, seeming overly loud in the quiet room, and the Duchess sighed, shaking her head. Her temples throbbed as she reached up and gently massaged them, trying to ease the ache building there. “Eugenia is such a sweet girl. She is kind and generous to a fault. She has never once tried to use the rank and wealth she was born into as a reason to look down on anyone. As a matter of fact, she is all but blind to class differences, and treats everyone with equal kindness regardless of their rank. I know I am her mother, and perhaps I am biased in her favour, but I genuinely don’t understand. How could anyone hate her enough to want to ruin her this way?”
The question hung in the air, begging for the answer that neither of them had.
“It has to be jealousy.” Lady Gainsbourne leaned forward and retrieved her teacup, taking a sip before she continued. “You are all kind and generous by nature, but truly think about it. Try to put yourself in her competitors’ shoes. Eugenia is a beautiful, kind, generous, Duke’s daughter with a massive dowry and every possible opportunity open to her. Girls with lesser looks and lower stations, but who have hard hearts and high ambitions, might very well dislike Eugenia as much for her kindness as for her beauty or her station.”
“That’s so unfair!” Matilda’s fierce declaration from the quiet corner of the parlour where she’d been working on a piece of embroidery surprised everyone in the room, because she was generally a quiet girl, more often than not. “Eugenia cannot help it. She did not choose her looks, or the station she was borninto, or our family’s wealth. I suppose she could choose not to be kind, but that would go against her nature. It’s all ridiculous and bitterly unfair that someone might hate Eugenia for the life she was born into.”
“As bitterly unfair as it may be, that doesn’t change the truth that it is in some people’s nature to be jealous and petty and tear others down because they cannot stand to see anyone happy when they cannot find happiness in themselves.” Lady Gainsbourne clicked her tongue and shook her head. “It is a shame that it has affected poor Eugenia so deeply.”
Edward set aside the newspaper he’d been reading and cleared his throat.
“Has anyone been able to draw her out of her room and engage her, or perhaps find something else to occupy her thoughts?”
“No.”
Matilda heaved a mournful sigh. The Duchess nodded her agreement with Matilda’s declaration.
“We have all tried, but nothing seems to be working.”
Georgiana who, up to this point, had been quietly observing the room while she sipped her tea, cleared her throat and leaned forward, in an effort to get everyone’s attention.
“I have an idea, if you’re open to hearing it?”
“Of course, my dear! Please, share it.”
The Duchess nodded enthusiastically, setting her own tea aside in order to fix her undivided attention on her daughter-in-law. Georgiana smoothed a hand over her stomach for a momentbefore she spoke, as if to settle a swarm of nervous butterflies fluttering there.
“We should send for Susan. She and Eugenia became fast friends this past season. Besides, after all of the rumours that Lady Henrietta started, if anyone knows what it’s like to be at the mercy of society, it’s Susan. Perhaps she will be able to coax Eugenia out of wallowing in this gloom that has overcome her.”
“I think that is a wonderful idea!” The Duchess clapped her hands and beamed at her daughter-in-law. “Please write to your sister at once and let her know that Thistlewayte Hall is ready to receive her at her earliest convenience.”
Georgiana rose and curtsied, smiling broadly first at Edward, then at her mother-in-law.
“It will be my pleasure.”
With that, Georgiana hurried from the room, leaving the family to their discussions while she went to write to Susan and summon her, along with the delightful Lord Seabury, to Thistlewayte Hall.
ASHEWOOD HALL
The sounds of shouting dropped Marco from the embrace of a delightful dream of dancing with his love, the sweet and refreshing Lady Eugenia, to panicked shouts of fear. It took a moment for Marco to shake off the tendrils of sleep and become awake enough to cast off his blankets and rise. Wondering what was happening, for it was still completely dark, he put on his bedshoes and banyan and went to his window. What he saw stole the last vestiges of sleep from his mind and he became immediately wide awake and filled with a bone-deep mixture of anger and terror.
There was an orange glow coming from the direction of his stables.
“No!” Marco ran out of his room without even dressing. He bolted downstairs, taking the servants’ stairs since they were closer to the stables, and exited through the door on the west side of the house. Without stopping to talk to any of the roused servants who were watching from the doorway, he ran down the path to the stables, knowing that lives could very well depend on his speed. Marco skidded to a sharp stop as he felt the heat of the fire hit him. There were grooms and stableboys running around and horses crying out in fear. The scene was utter and complete chaos. “This way.” Marco waved over one stableboy who was struggling with a terrified mare. Marco assisted the young boy until he could get the mare to the fenced-in pasture just a short way down the lane, where he was relieved to see most of his other horses milling about. It seemed that the grooms had been able to turn most of the horses directly into the pasture, via the fenced run which connected it with the stables, but a few horses had been trapped at the other end of the building, and had, perforce, to be led out onto the courtyard area, then walked past the blazing stables to the pasture’s gate on the lane. Marco helped to secure those few and looked on in horror as his stable was completely engulfed in flames. He saw his Stablemaster, Mr. Fairchild, coming towards him and asked, “Is everyone alright? Have you accounted for both men and horses?”
“Aye my Lord, I’ve counted, and all are safe. We were awoken by the horses whinnying in fright, and kicking at the stable walls.There was a small fire near the end door, which was quickly put out. But them we realised that there was smoke coming from the feed room. We began to get the horses out, sending them down the run into the pasture, when the outside walls beside the feed room went up in flames all of a sudden, with no plausible reason in sight. We managed to get the last few horses and men out the doors to the courtyard and started dousing the new outbreak of fire with water from the troughs and the well. Not that we were succeeding – the fire had such a strong hold by then. That is when I saw you coming across from the house. All horses and men have been safely removed from danger, but the stables, the feed we had stored there, and the tack are a total loss my Lord. I’m very sorry. But at least we managed to prevent the fire from reaching the carriage house.”
Fairchild had his hat in his hand and his head held down in shame. Marco took a deep breath, pushing his own sorrow away, and reached out to pat the shoulder of his stable master.
