Henrietta let out an unladylike groan. “It was awful.”
“Why was that?”
“Lord Featherstone spent the entire time talking about himself,” Henrietta shared. “I didn’t even bother to try to get a word in edgewise.”
“Perhaps he was nervous,” Abigail proposed.
“That was most assuredly not it,” Henrietta said. “That man is the cockiest person I have ever met.”
“That is most unfortunate.”
“Regrettably, Marjorie appears smitten by Lord Featherstone.” Henrietta sat down at the dressing table.
Abigail walked over and removed the pins from her hair. Then, she reached for a brush and started brushing out her long tresses.
Henrietta met her lady’s maid’s gaze in the mirror. “I can’t seem to fathom why my sister is attracted to Lord Featherstone.”
“He is an earl,” Abigail pointed out as she set the brush down.
“A boorish earl,” Henrietta muttered.
As Abigail started creating an elaborate hairstyle, she said, “It would be an advantageous marriage for your sister.”
“I don’t believe she would be happy with Lord Featherstone.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I doubt he would be faithful to her.”
“You don’t know that for certain,” Abigail said, stepping back from the chair. “He might change his roguish ways for your sister.”
“Pardon me if I find that a little farfetched.”
Abigail walked over to the bed and picked up the dress. “You must trust your sister’s judgement when it comes to matters of the heart.”
Rising, Henrietta joked, “You are being entirely too sensible at the moment.”
“It may have something to do with the fact that I have a different perspective than you do,” Abigail said. “I doubt I will ever be in a position to marry.”
“How can you be certain of that?”
“I’m afraid I do not fit in with the other servants in the household,” Abigail admitted.
“Are they mean to you?”
Abigail shook her head. “Heavens, no,” she replied. “But they tend to leave me be.”
“Would you like me to say something to the housekeeper?”
“No, you must promise me that you won’t say anything,” Abigail said. “Sometimes people complain about their lots in life, with no intention of their issues being resolved. This is one of those times.”
Henrietta walked over to her lady’s maid. “I want you to be happy here. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Abigail smiled. “Your hair would be terribly disheveled, and you would be forced to dress yourself.”
“Heaven forbid,” Henrietta gasped, feigning outrage.
“We should dress you before the dinner bell rings,” Abigail said. “Lady Finsbury does not appreciate it when you are late.”
