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Chapter27
The next week passed with excruciating slowness. I wanted to count the days until my cousin’s arrival, but we had not yet heard word from her, so I could only hope she was on her way now. She would need to be in order to make it to Chelton before the ball, for the event was set to take place in four days.
No word had yet reached Lady Edith about Miss Northcott and her whereabouts. She dispatched a handful of letters to various people who knew Miss Northcott before her mother died and she traveled to Chelton to live, but so far no one had yet responded.
James and I had found a peculiar sense of harmony over the previous week. I spent the days assisting his mother in preparing for the ball or attending to at-home visits, and he spent them riding or out with his brothers. And each night, we spoke to one another about our day and shared our facts. I was glad he had fought for me last week, that he had not accepted my decree that we were better off in our own bedchambers.
I wanted to know James’s mind, and we were accomplishing that with our nightly conversations. By the end of a year together, I would know more than three hundred things about him.
Lady Edith, however, had grown increasingly distant as the days wore on. She sat across from me now at the breakfast table, papers spread between us containing all of the details regarding the ball. The dinner guests, ball guests, both the dinner and supper menus, the dance order, and the house guests had all been combed through with excruciating detail. We’d now moved on to the decor, and Lady Edith had a list of flowers, candles, and mirrors to rival the great parties of the ton in London.
“We’ll need torches in the courtyard, and we can move the potted shrubs and trees to that area to give it more of an earthy appearance.”
“What of the white flowers?” I asked. It had been a strong theme Lady Edith was clutching tightly.
“Roses on the fountain. We can tuck them into the sculpture. Perhaps Athena can appear to be holding a bouquet.”
“And flowers in the fountain,” I added. “Floating in the water with the stems snipped off.”
“Perhaps. If we have any spare roses.”
My spine straightened. This was my ball, was it not? I had determined not long ago that I’d taken the wrong approach with my mother-in-law, but each time I attempted to hold any power at all, she closed the door on my idea immediately. It was a terrible juxtaposition, for if I wanted her to find me capable, I needed to prove it. Only, she would not allow me that opportunity. I needed to take the authority that was mine by rights in order to show her that I could be trusted. That I was worthy.
“I would like floating roses in the fountain,” I said again, this time stronger. I found it symbolic in a way she would not understand, because I would not share the story with her of the day James and I had fallen into the fountain in the garden. He had tucked a white rose behind my ear and made me feel special. If this ball was meant to celebrate our marriage, that seemed a very subtle, private way to pay homage to our union.
“Perhaps,” she repeated.
My pulse raced, blood rushing past my ears with alarming speed. “There have been many things about this ball that I have ceded to you, Lady Edith. I am asking for this one, small thing. I am exceedingly grateful for all you’ve done, and I do not wish to cause any strife. But I do expect, as the mistress of Chelton, to have some authority over my own ball.”
Lady Edith’s cheeks colored, and her lips pinched. She picked up the quill and dipped it in the ink before marking a notation about flowers in the fountain. But it was a hollow win. Somehow the success of my endeavor did not make me feel any better. The discord between us tainted all of our time together.
She kept her focus on the paper as she spoke. “Do you also expect, as the mistress of Chelton, to escape each ball we attend and hide away with a book? Or will you accept all the responsibilities of this role along with the benefits?”
If words could slap, I was certain hers would have left a mark. “I have tried to explain that large gatherings—particularly those with strangers—will send me into a fit of nerves when I find attention is drawn to me. It is not a choice, Lady Edith. I do not wish to be so overcome.”
“What you describe as a fit of nerves, others see as a woman who does not wish to be there.”
“It is the truth of things,” I said calmly.
“Which reflects poorly on our—”
“Good name? Yes. I do believe I am quite aware of how important that good name is.”
Lady Edith opened her mouth in umbrage, but Forester came to the door and cut our conversation to a close. “You’ve a visitor, madam.”
It was exceedingly frustrating that I could not tell who he was speaking to between the two of us.
Lady Edith, evidently, felt the same. “Which of us has a visitor?”
He looked between us then, uncertainty clouding his aged eyes. “It is Mrs. Moulton.”
Lady Edith sucked in a quick breath. “Show her into the drawing room straight away.”
Forester delivered a curt bow and turned to do her bidding. Lady Edith closed her eyes for a moment. When she directed them at me again, they were clouded with concern. “Can we resume our plans at another time? I must question Mrs. Moulton.”
Still Miss Northcott’s headmistress’s name rang a bell of familiarity, though I could not place it. Perhaps that was due to my aunt writing about the town she passed through by the name of Melton . . . though that was quite some time ago, and not, what I believed, to be owed this familiarity. It was unimportant, though it bothered me that I could not place it.
I nodded to my mother-in-law. “You hope she can provide insight into Miss Northcott’s whereabouts.”
