Page 88 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“But your foot—”

Susan waved the objection away. “I stupidly tripped coming down a narrow flight of stairs at my lodgings. My landlady helped me bandage it and called the surgeon. He says it is not broken, but I’m to rest it for at least a month.”

“And here you are traipsing across the countryside clear to Wiltshire. Come into the church and sit down.” Violet took her arm, but Susan winced and stood her ground.

“I’ve been sitting for nigh on ten hours, miss. I could do with a stretch.” The penetrating way she looked Violet over, head to heels, made her suddenly feel like a small child being inspected before going to Sunday service. “I see my work is cut out for me. I’ve brought your blue silk with the darker stripe. Do you remember it?”

Completely awed by her maid’s efficient, no-nonsense manner, Violet nodded.

“Then let us return to the inn and I will turn you out for your wedding as though we were in London and this St. George’s.” Gingerly, Susan eased her weight from her injured ankle and leaned more heavily on her stick. “Lord Trevor, you, Lord Dalbury, Mr. Matthews, and Saunders take Lord Dalbury’s carriage. I’ll take yours and accompany Miss Carlton back to the inn and get her ready. If you wish to stay, we will return within the hour.

“What do you say, Duncan?” Tris looked eagerly toward his friend “Shall we head for The Swan, grab a pint, and discuss this duel tomorrow?”

“I’d rather confront Mr. Harper now, if possible,” Mr. Matthews said, moving toward the marquess’s carriage. “How far to his residence?”

“Harper’s Grange is only about two and a half miles farther on. You could make it there and back in an hour or so.” Tris grinned at them all. “I suspect the meeting will be of short duration.”

“I believe, as I have time now before the wedding, I will do just that.” With a bow, Matthews opened the carriage door, then turned back. “Your terms, all joking aside?”

All humor left Tris’s face and he grunted. “The terms stand as they did the last time he was challenged to a duel. He apologizes to Miss Carlton privately and upon pain of exposure never speaks to her or of her ever again. Otherwise, I shall meet him in the morning.”

A cold chill sent a shiver through Violet, like a goose stepping on her grave. This duel suddenly seemed very real and menacing.

“Come, miss. I shall have the satisfaction of seeing you turned out a treat before you wed his lordship.” Smiling, Susan put an arm around her shoulders and drew her toward Tris’s carriage.

At the reassuring touch, Violet found her fluttering stomach calming. Stokes handed them into the carriage then leaped onto the seat and started the swift trip to The Black Horse.

Once there, Susan’s fussing over her clothes and hair proved more soothing to her than she would have imagined. If she closed her eyes, she could almost believe they were back at Lammas House, preparing for dinner with Tris. After tonight, she would always prepare for dinner with him, for he would be hers alone.

Her husband.

She could scarcely take it in. A strange feeling of unreality assailed her, as though she stood outside herself, watching as Susan twisted her hair, pinning it into an elegant coil. It was actually her, however. Her wedding day.

“You’re going to need to hire a real lady’s maid, Miss,” Susan said, sliding another pin into the back of her coiffure.

“I have a lady’s maid, Susan.” The woman looking back from the mirror seemed scared and unsure, eyes wide, brows drooping, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “You.”

“Me!” So startled she almost dropped the pin she clutched, Susan stared back at Violet in the mirror, her hand still poised over the already exquisite arrangement. “I can’t be maid to you once you marry Lord Trevor. I was maid to every one of his mistresses for the past seven years.”

“Including me.” Violet smiled grimly at her reflection. “Nothing has changed, save I will be true mistress of his house. I see no reason why you cannot continue.”

“But it wouldn’t be proper, Miss Carlton.” Susan stepped back, hands on hips, glaring.

Fortunately, Violet had seen that look before. She twisted in her chair until she faced the woman she would not do without. “To the devil with propriety. I’ve never been a titled lady before, yet in an hour I will be Lady Trevor. You may have been a maid to women who were not accepted in polite society, but that counts for nothing. You have done nothing of which to be ashamed. I know you will be splendid as my lady’s maid, and I dare anyone to try and dissuade me from that, including you.”

“But miss—”

“Either you accept my proposal or I will take down my hair, remove this gown and put on the gray one you hate so much and be married in that with a thick braid down my back.” Head held high to feign an assurance she didn’t quite feel, Violet rose and faced Susan. She wouldn’t lose her friend or her best chance at presenting herself flawlessly before society.

“That’s what you call blackmail, miss.” Susan’s pouting lips sang a song of victory to Violet.

“Shall I change then?” Mischievously, Violet let her hand drop to the bodice of the blue changeable silk, shot through with darker stripes of blue and now embellished with crystals over bodice and sleeves. Cut low at the breast, it was a truly elegant garment that could be used for any formal occasion. Violet grasped the stomacher, tugging it from its pouch at the front.

“No, miss!” Darting forward, Susan stayed her hand. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay with you until you get a proper maid.”

“Not good enough.” Violet jerked the stiffened fabric upward, almost dislodging it.

“Stop! You’ll ruin it.” She clenched her hands and swore under her breath. “All right. I will remain as your lady’s maid until you no longer require my services.”