“Yes, and I think it’s a good idea. It has certainly kept everyone busy enough. The servants have been set to work and are too busy to gossip about what happened yesterday. It has also given the guests something else to focus on. Everyone is excited. They are getting dressed for the occasion as we speak.”
Nate smoothed his blue waistcoat with both hands. “Will I need to put on a cravat?”
“I should think so,” Bridget said.
He massaged his forehead. “Help me understand. Since when does Lydia Eamont order tea parties on demand? Wouldn’t Lady Eamont be the one to request such an event? What is it for? It must be costing us a fortune.” Nate dropped his hands by his sides and watched as the housemaids arranged white, gold-rimmed plates and silverware on the tables.
“It’s not cheap. That’s true, but as I said, I think it is good for morale. I’ve put all the servants to work. Even the guests’ staff are helping. As to what it’s for, you shall have to wait and see.”
She glanced at Nate. He still looked puzzled, but she wasn’t about to tell him what she’d overheard in the garden. This tea party was her one chance to keep everyone outside while she slipped indoors to check the rooms, and until Nate started being honest with her, she knew she could not trust him again.
*
Bridget chose ablack empire dress, complete with a black sash, and a black, veiled hat for the tea. After dressing, she took Bijou under herarm and went to cajole her aunt into coming downstairs.
“Aunt Marianne, do say you will come to the tea. It’s such a lovely day, and we all need some cheering up.”
“I don’t quite appreciate my status as a dependent on poor Mr. Squires being the topic of conversation at every meal. That’s why I prefer to eat in my room,” Aunt Marianne said stiffly.
“What if I can guarantee that the guests will be so preoccupied with other news that they won’t have time to think about us or our status in this house?”
“Do you mean the death? I’m not quite up for hearing about that woman and her creeping about upstairs either. I’m sorry she fell, but when I think about what she was doing prowling around at that hour…” Aunt Marianne’s expression soured, and she declined to finish her statement.
“Not that either, Aunt. Everyone’s attention will be turned to something else entirely. They will quite forget about us and poor Madam Bouffant, I promise.”
Aunt Marianne frowned. “Why, what do you know? Tell me?”
“It’s not my news to tell. If you want to know, you will have to come downstairs.” She held out her arm for her aunt to take. “Cook has made the most delicious little jam tarts, baked apples, almond biscuits, and your favorite plum cake.”
“Oh, very well.” Aunt Marianne pursed her lips but accepted Bridget’s arm.
*
The tables lookedexquisite, and Bridget felt a rush of pride at seeing the pleased look on her guests’ faces. Silver tea trays, flowers, fresh fruit, and an array of cakes, biscuits, and puddings filled the length of the table. And it wasn’t long before the guests started to indulge in the food as they gazed at the magnificent Lake Windermere. Everyoneseemed mesmerized by the blue sky, the stunning mountains, and the crystal-clear lake as they sipped their tea and ate plum cake, lemon biscuits, and trifle. Even little Bijou partook in the feast, lapping milk from a bowl Bridget had placed under the table and enjoying the crumbs and scraps she fed him. The setting was near-perfect.
Until Lydia Eamont, wearing a pastel yellow, empire-waisted gown with a white sash, picked up her silver teaspoon and clanged it against her teacup. Her brown eyes sparkled as she looked proudly around the table, ready to make her big announcement.
Bridget held her breath. Was she going to do it?
“Mama, Papa—everyone—I—we—Lord Dodsworth and I have an announcement to make.” She turned to Dodsworth, her face radiant. He went as pale as a white dove and looked as though he might faint.
“What?” he whispered. “Now? You cannot be serious.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, dear, now is as good a time as any.”
“Lydia,” Lady Eamont’s sharp voice cut across the table, “what is going on?”
Lydia cleared her throat. “Mama, Papa, Lord Dodsworth has asked me to be his wife.”
Bridget expected the guests to erupt in surprise. Instead, a deathly silence followed her announcement, but that only lasted for mere seconds.
“Good Lord!” Jefferson said. “What on earth is she talking about? Has she gone completely mad?” He looked at Dodsworth.
“I’m not mad,” Lydia said. “Dodsworth asked me to marry him yesterday afternoon when we were alone in the garden.” She emphasized the wordaloneand then glared at Dodsworth. “Tell them.”
Dodsworth swallowed and his face grew even paler, as though all the blood had been drained from him. “It’s true,” he said, his voice raspy as though it had been difficult to get the words out. “Lydia and I are to be…” he swallowed, and then choked out, “married.”
“Mama!” Adelia Eamont rose from the table and threw down hernapkin. “What is the meaning of this? Why should you keep this a secret from me? You said I would be the one to marry.”
