Page 31
“So that is how you met my father.” Then she experienced a flash of inspiration. Harriet was still awestruck at how perfectly the woman had dressed herself. Even with Evaline’s help, she dreaded dressing in the mornings or changing her clothes. It was … serendipitous!
“You should take a position as a lady’s maid. Your skills are exemplary.”
Belinda’s eyebrows flew up to meet her hairline in utter amazement at Harriet’s bold declaration. “That is a lovely idea. It would certainly solve my current predicament. The only thing is, who would hire me?”
Harriet lifted her chin, casting her fears aside to reach a decision. It would certainly send a message to her father. She was rejecting his corruption. She was standing on her own two feet. His reign of influence was over. “I would.”
Belinda blinked. “You?”
“Yes. You could be my lady’s maid.”
A brittle laugh escaped Belinda. “Are you mocking me?”
“I am not.” Harriet stepped closer. “You would have a respectable position. A roof over your head. Safety. And I will advance you a loan to put legal pressure on my father. You should hold him accountable.”
Belinda’s mouth parted in disbelief. “You are serious.”
“Entirely.”
Belinda shook her head. “I will not take your money.”
“What is this? Pride?” Harriet’s voice sharpened. “Pride did not stop Lowe’s hand, Belinda. Pride will not protect you when you are destitute.”
Belinda turned away, silent.
“We both know my father’s promises were worth less than the paper they were written on,” Harriet pressed. “But you do not have to let him desert you like this. You deserve more than this.”
Belinda’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “A lady’s maid,” she repeated softly. “After everything.”
“Would it be so terrible?” Harriet asked gently. “You were a lady’s maid before Bertram Hargreaves noticed you. Before he drew you in with his false promises. I am offering you a chance to step back into that role, with dignity. It is just me and Lady Wood, and we are far less demanding than two silly chits coming out for their first Season.”
Belinda turned slowly, searching Harriet’s face. “And you think society would accept it? That I could simply become your maid after all these years?”
Harriet smiled, a flash of the impudent woman she had been when she still ruled London’s ballrooms before setting such things aside. But this time for something that mattered. This time to do good. “I am very pleased with my new lady’s maid, Miss Bélise Coupier. Elegant. Discreet. A woman of impeccable taste.”
Belinda stared at her.
“I shall tell them you are French. Parisian, perhaps. Newly arrived in England. Who will question it? Society turns a blind eye when it chooses. Why, Lord Fenwick has his mistress living openly as his children’s governess. Everyone knows it, yet no one speaks of it.”
Belinda’s lips curved despite herself. “Bélise Coupier?”
Harriet gave a little shrug of nonchalance. “A touch dramatic? Perhaps. But French names are all the rage, and high society is far more forgiving when scandal hides behind a fashionable accent. Besides, it suits you.”
Belinda cast her eyes about the small room, her hazel eyes lingering in the shadows. The faint redness on her cheek, though partially concealed with careful powder, remained a silent testament to Lord Lowe’s temper. She drew her shoulders back with practiced poise, though Harriet noted how tightly her fingers pressed together.
“And what of Bertram?” Belinda asked at last, her voice even, but Harriet could hear the worried undertone.
Harriet smiled: cool, confident.
“Something tells me that knowing his only daughter has hired his former mistress will keep him silent. It would be far too embarrassing for him to point it out. No, it is likely he will stifle any whispers, lest his own credibility suffer. He would not want his peers to think he cannot control his own kin.” Harriet stepped forward, lowering her voice. “Belinda, take this chance. Let us both turn the page.”
Silence stretched between them. The sounds of the street below, along with the distant clatter of carriage wheels, filtered through the thin windows. At her home, Belinda would have her own room in a prestigious house. Peace. Quiet. Prospects. Perhaps even wrest her settlement from Bertram’s icy fingers.
Harriet held her tongue, knowing the nature of human desires well enough to let her sit with the offer. Finally, Belinda’s lips moved in the faintest ghost of a smile, and Harriet saw the woman relax as if she had put down a great burden.
“Very well, Lady Slight. Let us see if society will believe in Miss Bélise Coupier.”
Harriet exhaled, the tightness in her chest easing. For the first time in a long while, she felt as though she had done something right. This was another secret, yes, but one that might lead to redemption rather than regret.
