Page 27 of Mistress of Misfortune

Thorne had not guessed that to be her intention. “I thought you were a governess.”

“My former employer has assured that I will never work as one again,” she said frankly. “That comes with a great deal of very unpleasant intrigue, horror, and other matters I do not wish to discuss in detail.”

He nodded. “I will not press you.”

“His wishes do not remove my need of employment, and a place to live. I frequently looked after my father’s household when my mother grew ill, and have worked in many large houses, so I am quite familiar with the duties. By now you are well-acquainted with my character and diligence, but if you have any questions, I am happy to answer them.” She waited for him to respond, and then said, “Very well. I will accept the position for room, board, and the standard wage of twenty guineas per month, and an answer to one question.”

“I have no quarrel with the amount.” After watching her manage the books from the hidden library, he had no doubt she would keep the household running smoothly. All of the men liked her, and Harshad had already befriended her. “What is your question?”

She regarded him steadily. “Did you make advances on Meredith in the tower?”

Thorne considered denying it, but saw the knowing gleam in Lucetta’s eye. “Yes. I kissed her, and there was some other, ah, contact. It did not go too far.”

“As housekeeper I can continue to serve as Meredith’s chaperone—a role at which I warn you, I will be more diligent—and assist her with the catalog work.” Lucetta made a dismissive gesture. “My own tattered reputation cannot be made worse, I assure you. Carlton has seen to that. Since I have already spent the night, and we have not fallen deliriously in love, you should be safe from your family curse.”

“I beg your pardon.” Fascinated now, he set aside his snifter. “My family what?”

Lucetta pressed her hand to her brow before she regarded him. “Forgive me, but I thought you knew of the legend about the Thornes. It is said that the men of your family are destined to fall in love with a lady who spends the night beneath this roof.”

“How novel.” He chuckled. “That does not seem to me a very great curse. Rather more a convenient one.”

“The curse has to do with the lady, not the master,” she said. “Once she is wed to a Thorne, the wife is doomed. Every mistress of Dredthorne is said to have gone mad, disappeared, or died within a year.” She held up her hand. “I doubt its veracity, but the Thorne curse is one of the village’s more enduring tales.”

“It is not true.” Thorne sobered as he thought of his parents. “My mother never stepped foot in this house. She met my father in London, and followed him during his naval career, which took them all over England and the Continent. They endured twenty-four years in an unhappy marriage, but they died together in an accident. I believe my father’s parents also resided elsewhere, and enjoyed long, uncursed lives.”

“Like most legends, this one was likely invented by a group of jealous spinsters and bored wives seething over their scandal broth.” At his puzzled look Lucetta added, “Over their tea.” She glanced up as the old clock chimed the half-hour, and then rose to her feet. “I must go to my room and unpack before dinner is served. Should I take the guest chamber again, or the housekeeper’s room?”

“You may use the guest room.” As her face fell Thorne gestured toward the ceiling. “Once the workmen have finished on the third floor, you will have the housekeeper’s chamber. It comes with a sitting room, I believe.”

“Thank you, sir.” Lucetta bobbed in a brief, neat curtsey.

“One more thing, Miss Branwen,” he said, using the more formal address. “What happened in the tower will not be repeated.”

She nodded. “I will make sure of that, Colonel.”

* * *

On the afternoonbefore the assembly Lady Starling surprised Meredith with the gift of a new gown.

“I had planned to save it for Christmas,” her mother said as she placed the jade-colored cloud of silk on her bed, “but I want you to look your very best tonight, my dear. You do not need wear that sling with it, do you? It will ruin the look, and remind everyone of your misfortunes.”

“No, Mama, my arm is quite healed now.” Meredith hardly knew what to say. “How in Heaven’s name can we afford such a dress?”

“Do not concern yourself with matters of money,” Lady Starling snapped. When she saw Meredith’s expression she made an impatient gesture. “It is of no consequence. Now, I will send Annie to help with your hair after dinner.” She opened the armoire. “Do you have a decent pair of slippers that will match?”

By the time her father sent for the carriage Meredith felt completely bewildered by her mother’s attentions. Her hair, now piled in a clever arrangement of artful braids and curls set with Lady Starling’s favorite pearl pins, resembled a gleaming crown. The gown, while a little loose around the waist, matched her eyes perfectly. Her cheeks had been pinched until they glowed, and the cherry juice she had been coaxed to sip had tinted her lips a deeper pink. Her mother had even lent her a single strand of small, creamy pearls to wear around her neck, and her favorite pair of white slippers.

Lord Starling drove them to Lady Hardiwick’s himself, where they were met by Percival and Lavinia, who seemed to be waiting for them.

“By Jove, Meredith, you outshine the stars tonight,” her cousin said as he helped her down from the carriage. “Careful now. Does she not look beautiful, Mama?”

“Very pretty,” her aunt muttered, glaring oddly at Lady Starling. “Shall we go in, or are we to loiter here until my niece visits some new disaster on us all?”

Being reminded of her bad luck made Meredith want to climb back into the carriage, but by then Percival had tucked her arm through his, and was leading her into the Hardiwick’s enormous country house.

Lamps and candles abounded on the walls, chandeliers and foyer tables, making Meredith especially nervous as she walked down the receiving line. If she caught her new dress on fire again her mother would never forgive her, and likely forbid her from ever leaving the house again.

“Chin up, Cousin,” Percival said, patting her forearm. “This will be an evening to remember, I swear it.”