“I’ll tell you, but you won’t like the answer.” She smiled, seemingly enjoying Bridget’s discomfort.
“Oh, well, never mind. You don’t have to—I mean, it’s none of my business.”
“I have recently acquired a generous patron who is quite besotted with me.” She lifted her chin with pride.
“Do you mean Lord Frederick?”
The corners of her lips curved upwards in a sly smile. “A lady never kisses and tells,” she said, “but, no, not Frederick. The young ones are too cheap and not as easily flattered as the older, married gents.”
Bridget’s forehead creased as she wondered how many “patrons” Madam Bouffant favored at the same time, and whether or not she was capable of discretion.
“Don’t look so worried,mon cheri, as I have already told you, I am an accomplished actress and have played many parts in my time. No one will discover the truth,” she said as if she’d read Bridget’s thoughts. “This will be a wonderful adventure.”
Bridget left Madam Bouffant’s suite with mixed feelings. She’d taken control of the situation, but she wasn’t quite sure she’d be able to keep things from blowing up in her face. Lord Frederick’s thoughtlessness could have—and might still—jeopardize Villa De Lacey’s reputation before it had even begun to establish one.
Chapter Seven
Bridget arrived outsidein time to see an elaborate burgundy coach followed by a second smaller carriage ascending the pathway toward Villa De Lacey.
“I am sorry to have taken so long, Aunt.”
“Oh, never mind me. What have you done about that awful woman?”
“We’ve come to an understanding.” Bridget glanced at her aunt. “She has agreed to go by the name Madam Bouffant and tell the other guests that she is a widow who traveled from Paris to visit the Lake District after being inspired by Mr. Wordsworth’s guidebook. She speaks fluent French, and she’s an actress. No one will discover the truth.”
“No one will believe that story,” Aunt Marianne snorted. “A lady would never travel from France on her own. At the very least, she’d come with a lady’s maid.”
Bridget sighed. She hadn’t thought of that. “I suppose we shall have to say that her lady’s maid became ill and had to return home, so Eliza is acting as her lady’s maid while she is here.”
“Eliza is our lady’s maid.”
Bridget shrugged. “I shall make do on my own, if necessary. The most important thing is that our guests are not made to feel uncomfortable by Lord Frederick’s thoughtlessness. This is a family inn, after all.”
“I cannot believe you put that woman in your father’s room. It’s adisgrace to his memory.”
“I had no choice. I’m simply doing the best I can to help us survive.”
Aunt Marianne pursed her lips as though she’d held something distasteful in her mouth. Bridget sighed. Her aunt looked tired. While all this activity was helping Bridget cope with her loss, she worried that it was too much for her aunt. “Why don’t you give me that list and go upstairs and take a rest? I can stay here and greet the guests.”
“I cannot leave you alone.” Aunt Marianne shook her head. “Mr. Squires should be here, helping us greet our guests. But I suppose he is upstairs enjoying your father’s brandy while we are relegated to servants in our own home,” she said bitterly.
“Don’t say such things and upset yourself so, Aunt. You know that Mr. Squires cannot play the role of innkeeper. His reputation would be ruined, and his brother would withdraw his allowance, which he will need until the inn is able to support itself. I am the hostess; therefore, I am the one who should be greeting the guests. I enjoy doing it, truly. Now, please go and get some rest. There are plenty of servants available to help me if I’m in need.”
“Those silly little village fools we hired? They are not capable of much.”
“They will learn, and in the meantime, you can send Eliza outside to help me.”
“Very well.” Aunt Marianne handed the list to Bridget. “I suppose a little rest before dinner will do me good.”
Bridget smiled and kissed her aunt. “I do miss Papa so much, Aunt. You mustn’t think all this hullaballoo changes that. It’s only a distraction, that’s all. And I know he would have wanted us to remain in the house.”
“I’m sure you’re right, my dear.” Aunt Marianne patted Bridget reassuringly on the arm and then went back inside.
Guilt niggled at Bridget as she watched her aunt depart. Not onlyhad her aunt lost the brother she’d adored, but she’d lost the peacefulness of her home. And although Bridget’s heart ached for want of her papa, the rebirth of Villa De Lacey excited her. Despite her agonizing loss, she’d never felt more alive.
*
“Lady Darby,” thedriver of the crested black coach announced before opening the carriage door.
