That thought almost swept her back into panic. She could face thefamily ? this was all their fault, after all ? but not strangers who wouldlook and see only a homely, poorly dressed female, not a rebelliousspirit.
If she had possessed a stunning, fashionable gown and a jewel box shewould have used them then and be damned to egalitarian principles.
The maid went to work on her hair. “What pretty hair you have, miss,”said Redcliff as she started to brush through the mass of chestnutcurls.
Beth knew it. It was unfortunate hair for a schoolmistress who had toconvince pupils and parents on a daily basis that she was of soberdisposition. That was why she kept it short and hidden beneath caps.
When the maid was satisfied with her work, Beth said, “You will find acap to match this gown in a box in the gray trunk.” In the mirror she sawthe protest tremble on the woman’s lips. The maid was too well trained tovoice it, however, and found the cap.
Unfortunately for Beth’s intentions, the cap was her prettiest, andthis time she could hardly strip it of its decoration ? rows of ruchedribbons and two silk roses designed to nestle on her left temple.Moreover, as this cap was designed to fit on the back of her head, it wasquite impossible to hide all her glossy curls.
If only, she thought, this outfit were not so becoming. The bland colorsuited her pale skin, giving it delicacy and bringing out a hint of colorin her cheeks and lips. The curls on her forehead softened the smooth ovalof her face and those blasted roses drew attention to her eyes, which,while nothing out of the ordinary, were clear and surmounted by smoothdark brows.
She had chosen the outfit to be becoming, though, and succeeded all toowell. She went about a little in Cheltenham with her aunt and had nodesire to appear an antidote. In fact, she remembered with a rueful smile,when this outfit had been commissioned a few months ago she hadentertained mild hopes of the interest of a local curate. He had turnedout to be a rather stupid man.
Beth gave up the fruitless contemplation of her appearance. Themarquess was doubtless acquainted with all the great beauties of the land.He was hardly likely to be overwhelmed by Beth Armitage in her SundayBest.
The maid looked at the clock. “It is time for you to go down,miss.”
Beth started. “I ? I confess I have no idea of how to find ‘down,’Redcliff. Or where I am supposed to be.”
The maid looked mildly surprised and rang a small silver bell whichstood on a table. A footman came smartly into the room.
“Miss Armitage is ready to go down, Thomas,” said the maid.
The footman gave a little bow and stepped outside again. Redcliff stoodby the door to close it when Beth had left. Beth left.
The footman set off at a stately pace and Beth followed, feeling alittle like a lap dog being taken for a walk. The young man was tall andwell-built. Beth had heard that sometimes footmen were chosen for theirhandsome appearance and supposed that to be the case here. Again, theypassed other footmen just standing like statues; in their yellow liveriesand powdered hair there was no easy way to tell them apart.
She followed her guide along corridors and down a different staircase,just as magnificent as the one she had come up. She could not deny theelegance and beauty of her surroundings, but how ridiculous, she toldherself staunchly, to have this enormous building and all these servantsfor just three people.
They approached gilded double doors with panels painted with climbingroses. Beth’s footman and another stationed there swung them open withsmooth efficiency so she could sweep into the room without breaking step.I am likely to lose the use of my hands entirely, Beth thought, as sheprepared to meet her persecutors.
She had expected to be overwhelmed by personal ostentation to match thehouse and was prepared to sneer. She found instead that the room sheentered was small and not particularly grand, and the family was dressedlike any people of good birth and comfortable circumstances.
The duke and the marquess were in elegant day dress, the duchess in acharming but simple blue-striped silk with only a delicate sapphirependant and earrings for ornamentation. She was a tall, slender lady withthe same handsome features as her son. The sweetly curved lips moved intoa warm smile as she came forward.
“My dear Miss Armitage, welcome to Belcraven.” Her voice carried thedelicious flavor of her native France. “Thank you so much for coming.” Itwas a statement quite suitable for the hearing of the footman standing bythe wall, but Beth knew it said more. The duchess did not resent herarrival. The woman obviously accepted her husband’s plan and there was tobe no help from her quarter.
“I found it an opportunity quite impossible to resist, Your Grace,”said Beth dryly.
A twinkle of amusement and some disarming sympathy sparkled in theduchess’s blue eyes. “Yes,” she said. “The de Vaux men are irresistible,are they not, my dear? Tell me now, am I permitted to call youElizabeth?”
In the circumstances it was impossible to refuse. Next Beth had to facethe duke.
“I echo my dear wife’s sentiments, Elizabeth. It is a delight to haveyou here.” He smiled at her benignly as if he had never forced her intothis. Beth clenched her teeth on unwise words. Offending the duke wouldachieve nothing.
Beth was directed to a seat on a sofa where the duchess joined her. Theduke sat opposite while the marquess stoked the fireplace, watching Bethsardonically. The footman served wine and the duchess asked Beth about thejourney. For half an hour Beth found herself skillfully drawn intoconversation and entertained by amusing and relevant anecdotes. It wasterribly hard not to like this charming lady with her French accent andwarm smile.
The duke played his part in the conversation, and Beth noticed how theduchess even drew the marquess in with charming implacability. No ploddingtopics here, no awkward silences. Beth could not help but be impressed bytheir proficiency.
In due course the meal was announced, and the duke offered Beth his armwhile the marquess escorted his mother. It was only one short corridor tothe dining room, but it was a moment of privacy.
“Now that you have met the marquess, Elizabeth,” asked the duke, “areyou more reconciled to your fate?”
“I am as reconciled as he. Your Grace.”
The duke met her cool look with a touch of surprise. “That is a pity,Miss Armitage. He is a man, and proud. I can rule him, but he does nottake it gently.”
