That was the most stunning realization.She hadn’t wanted him to leave.
A short tap at the door startled her, and Jane entered with a welcome tray of tea and warm scones. “Oh, you’re awake, my lady. I wasn’t certain whether you would be returning to Hope House today after your late night.”
You mean early morning…
“Of course I’m going to Hope House,” she said, struggling to sit up. Someone had to make certain Viola Lockhart had not instigated a self-defeating mutiny. “I’m escorting the young ladies to Amersham today for tea. I should like to depart within the hour.”
“Excellent, ma’am. What of this evening’s benefit Lady Harlowe is hosting?”
“I should return in plenty of time for Mr. Whitmore to accompany me.” The words seemed awkward on her tongue. “I shall have to look my best.” Especially if they hoped to pull off this faux attraction. Faux? Ha. The lie unraveled the instant it entered her head.
A small giggle escaped her maid, but Rose ignored it as she hurried from the bed, the sense of urgency rippling through her. She wished to reach Hope House before Gabriella and Rebecca since Rose hadn’t had the opportunity to explain Viola Lockhart’s sudden appearance.
One and a half hours later, Rose entered Hope House to the scent of fresh bread and beeswax. But the pleasantness was nearly drowned out by the unmistakable sound of a young lady in a temper.
“Porridge! I do not eat porridge. Do you know who I am?”
Rose paused in the entry hall, her gloved hand still on the doorknob. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. Good heavens, Viola had been there less than twelve hours. Rose sincerely prayed she didn’t regret her impulsive actions from the night before.
Mrs. Kier’s calm voice floated back in reply, pitched in that Scottish lilt born of a practicality Rose had come to admire. “Aye, I ken fine who ye are, lass, and ye’ll find no finer fare than what’s set before ye. If porridge is good enough for the Duchess of Ryleigh and the duke’s sister when they come a-callin’, ’tis good enough for ye.”
A sharp intake of breath followed, indignant and wounded all at once.
Rose’s cheeks flamed. Time to straighten out that ungrateful chit. She raced down the hall with a hand flattened on the door of the dining hall just as other voices drifted over her from the adjoining kitchen.
“She’s horrid.” It was one of Mrs. Kier’s daughters, Rose realized, trying to whisper but failing—Maisie. “She acts as if she’s lady of the ’ouse, she does.”
“Hush, bairn,” Mrs. Kier soothed gently. “I told ye last night. She’s frightened, and fear makes folk lash out cruel-like. Pay it no heed.”
Rose’s spine stiffened. Fear or not, she would not have Viola tearing strips from the women who had opened their doors to her. Gathering her skirts, she strode toward the kitchen passage, the heated voices growing louder with each step.
She pushed through the door and found Viola seated at the long dining table, arms crossed, chin lifted in defiance. Before her, sat a steaming bowl of porridge, untouched.
“Miss Lockhart,” Rose said crisply, still clutching her bonnet and gloves. Her voice carried across the small room like the crack of a whip. “You were warned last night about speaking so disdainfully in this house.”
Viola blinked, her bravado faltering. “I-I only meant—”
“You meant,” Rose cut in, stepping farther into the room, “to insult the very people who saw to your comfort after finding yourself cold and starving in Whitefriars. Mrs. Kier and her household are owed gratitude, not scorn.”
Crimson stained Viola’s cheeks, but her lips pressed tight.
“Please wait for me in the drawing room.”
Stunned silence filled the dining hall and not so much as a spoon tinked against a cup.
“Now,” Rose snapped.
Her chair scraped the wood planks, and Viola dashed from the room.
Rose took a steadying breath and gauged the widened eyes of Kadida, Gilly, Vella, Mable, Inez, and Lena. “Good morning, ladies. Did Mrs. Kier relay our plans for today?”
Slow nods bobbed quietly around the table.
“The dresses are complete?” she asked, addressing Vella.
Vella beamed. “They are indeed, Lady Stanford.”
“Excellent. I should like to depart within the hour. Enjoy your breakfast, ladies.” Rose spun on a clipped heel and marched down the hall, her steps echoing against the walls. She entered the drawing room and dropped her bonnet and gloves on the nearest chair.
