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“I think it was remarkably amusing. Look at poor Lady Hayes now, her ankle seems to have miraculously recovered, does it not?” Sebastian gestured back to the lady who was hopping up and down on both feet, terrified that a spider might be under her gown. “See?”
“Ah…” Benedict acknowledged it all with a nod. “I trust you are recovered, my lady?” His words made Lady Hayes freeze with her sister at her side, both attempting innocent looks that no longer worked.
“I am pleased to see your recovery was so fast. If you would excuse us.” Sebastian bowed his head and took his brother’s shoulder, steering him away once again. “How I wish you had come fox hunting, Benedict. As amusing as this all is, I could have done without it.”
“You are better than any chaperone, I’ll give you that, Seb. In fact, I hope you will continue with your duties tomorrow evening.”
“Tomorrow evening? What is happening then?”
“A ball, at Lord Melbury’s house.”
“A ball!?” Sebastian scoffed. “You know I am not a fan of them –”
“Yes, I know. Who would go to a ball when the enjoyment of riding their horse wildly is to be had? Did you knock people over on your way here like skittles? The way you ride, I would not be surprised,” Benedict added wryly.
“They jumped out of the way, for the most part,” Sebastian continued the jest, much to his brother’s delight.
“Say you will come tomorrow night, please.”
“To a ball?”
“Please. Besides, without you to watch over me, I might just fall for the charms of a pretty woman who is out to marry my title.” Benedict’s astute words had Sebastian falling still and offering a glare.
“You have played me.”
“It has worked though, has it not? Say you will come, brother?”
Do I have a choice?
Chapter 3
“Can Mary spare the time?”
“I am afraid not,” Violet said as she stood behind Penelope and gathered her hair together. “It seems the one maid we have has been forced to join the many others that are already attending to our cousin.” Violet turned her gaze on Penelope in the vanity mirror above the table where she sat, seeing the nervous way that Penelope chewed her lip. “Have no fear, I’ll do a good job.”
“I do not doubt it,” Penelope said, though her voice lacked enthusiasm. Violet knew how much her sister longed for the assistance of the one maid they had at times.
In the quiet room, Violet began to pin Penelope’s hair, preparing her for the ball. She took extra care tonight, placing pearls attached to pins into the curls at the rear of her sister’s head, to ensure attention would be drawn to the fairness of Penelope’s hair.
“Quite beautiful,” Violet said after she stood back and surveyed her work.
“Thank you, but I fear I –” Penelope broke off as she held a hand to her mouth, making that sound that was now so familiar to Violet.
Casting a worried glance toward the door, Violet reached beneath her bed and fetched an empty copper chamber pot, before bringing it to Penelope and placing it on her lap.
“Th-thank you.” Penelope stammered, clearly trying to hold in her sickness as she bent over the chamber pot.
“Well, if I have to grab your curls and hold your hair back again, I’ll ruin all my good work,” Violet said softly as she dropped down to her knees in front of her sister. To her delight, she saw her jest pleased her sister, and a small smile appeared, even if it only lasted for a few seconds. “There, how are you feeling now?”
“A little better.” Penelope still stayed bent over the bowl though, clearly reluctant to leave it just yet. “It’s not getting any better, is it?”
Violet held her sister’s gaze, wishing with everything she had that she could say it was.
Yet it is not.
It had been a challenge indeed these last couple of weeks to hide Penelope’s state. The sickness had at first been played off as a passing illness, but now they were forced to hide it, out of fear that if her uncle or aunt, or Louise, saw Penelope was sick so much, they might call a physician.
He could know exactly what causes Pen’s sickness. What then if he were to tell our uncle and aunt?
