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“And she was the woman who was supposedly found in your room.”
“What do you intend to do?”
I hesitated. I needed my mother. I needed another’s wisdom to lead me. Lady Edith was testing me—not teaching me. I wanted Mama, but maybe I could settle for Jane.
“I intend to tell the housekeeper I need more time. I cannot dismiss the wrong girl. It feels reckless to make a decision before we understand what truly happened.”
“You could dismiss them both.”
“But one of them is innocent.”
Benedict raised an eyebrow. “Are you so certain?”
“The only thing I am currently certain of is my lack of qualifications to be the mistress of Chelton.” I drew in a breath, already regretting the directness of my words. Benedict looked as though he meant to argue, but I waved away his efforts. “It will all turn out well. I suppose I need to grow used to these new responsibilities. I will see you at dinner.”
I flashed him a smile and turned for the house before he could waylay me. The long walk down the gravel drive would be good for my constitution.
It was unclear whether Lady Edith was refusing her assistance because she wanted to see me fail or because she was genuinely curious to see how I would handle this matter of the maids. The warm afternoon sun shone down on me, and I watched James and his mother reach the house well before I neared it.
James had a talent for making me feel my company was desirable in certain situations, and I could not fault him for hoping to share with me the things he enjoyed doing. I did not press him to read with me in the library, though, and I was glad he’d ceased asking me to ride with him. It was a blessed thing he would be attending the ball on Tuesday, for he already understood why I could not dance. Surely he would help me contrive a reasonable excuse so I would not offend the host and hostess who Lady Edith so esteemed.
When I made it to the house, I immediately went to the drawing room and helped myself to the paper and ink at the writing table set against the wall. My hand stalled before my quill pen touched the paper, and it occurred to me that unless Jane had read the newspapers, she would not know I was a married woman. How was I to adequately explain to my dearest friend what I’d done? The last time she had spoken the name Mr. Bradwell, it was to entice me to write to Henry while I returned his book. Jane had been a supporter of that match.
I had much to explain. I dipped my quill again and wrote the briefest of explanations. It would be much easier to tell her what occurred face to face, and I hoped she would agree to come. I finished my letter and sanded the paper before folding and sealing it closed.
Lady Edith walked into the room, the color somewhat returned to her cheeks, but her frown in place. “I intend to lie down until dinner. I expect that the matter with the maids will be dealt with before I awake.”
The only sound that followed this edict was the clipping of her heels down the wood planked corridor punctuating her exit. My eyes drifted shut, and I pressed my fingers to my temples. It seemed I would not be granted the opportunity to wait for Jane’s wisdom after all.
I did not know what I hated more: that my mother-in-law viewed me as a wanton hussy who convinced James to marry me, or that she believed me wholly inept.
* * *
Whenever I needed to discern the right thing to do, in any situation, my mother had always taught me to listen to the innate feelings inside my heart. But as I stood in Mrs. Prescott’s sitting room, my heart was telling me nothing. No whispers quietly revealed whether or not I had come to the correct conclusion, no flutterings of confirmation soothed my spirit. Janet sat penitently on the chair, and Molly had fled the moment she was told to return to her tasks in the kitchen.
My reasoning was perhaps flawed, but I did not believe Molly would contrive to get Janet dismissed by placing herself in danger of that same thing—especially not when her family relied on her earnings. Surely Janet was angry that Molly had stolen her beau and schemed to get her dismissed so Janet might have his affections returned to her.
I was not sure if I’d made the right call, but it was done. I could not change it now. Mrs. Prescott seemed pleased enough by my decision, which, for some reason, did not give me any further affirmation that I had chosen the right girl.
“If that is all?” I asked Mrs. Prescott, and she gave me a nod. I spun away from the dim sitting room, feeling the frown on my lips drain down and fill my entire being with displeasure.
I found James walking my direction when I reached the corridor that held our bedchambers, and he appeared freshly bathed and free of the dirt from working on the rut in the road. He must have quickly sensed my discouragement, because his smile shifted into concern the nearer I drew to him.
“Felicity, what happened?”
“I dismissed the maid. I’m unsure if I made the correct choice, and I do not like that I had so much control over this poor girl’s future with very little information.” I stopped and shook my head. “What if I was wrong?”
His mouth opened slightly, but he had nothing to say. He ran a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “You did not need to—”
“Yes, I did,” I snapped. “Your mother allowed me no more time.”
He chuckled awkwardly. “Surely if she knew you were unsure, she would have agreed to discuss the matter further.”
“That would have been impossible, for we cannot discuss further something we had not discussed at all. This was naught but a test which I failed, miserably, as I have many of her other tests.” I scoffed lightly, shaking my head. “I am unworthy of you, James. I am unworthy of Chelton. Your mother does not deem me fit to lead or fit to be your wife, and I should not be given authority over these poor maids and their futures.”
“Felicity, you cannot mean that,” James said, appalled. Though whether he was so disturbed by my outburst or the notion that his mother could think so ill of me, I did not know.
My eyes closed, and I drew in a sustaining breath. “This is not your—”
The words shriveled on my tongue, and I raised my gaze to meet his troubled one. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault I was in this predicament, but it was. He had agreed to marry me, he brought me to this house, and he knew the sort of life I was going to be forced into after he watched me faint in a ballroom and learned of my flaws.
He reached for my hand, and I took a step back, evading his touch. “I need a moment. I will . . . I will most likely see you at dinner.”
James nodded, his concern only seeming to grow. “Of course.”
Ever the gentleman, he stepped back and allowed me to pass, uninhibited, into my room. Alone.
