Philomena stepped into the corridor to allow Victoria to pass her at the door, a secretive smile on her lips. This gave Victoria pause for just a moment - - then she saw what the silly girl was smiling about. Oh heavens!

  “Truly, I had begun to think I might never see my beloved Victoria again! What on earth kept you?” Lady Elmira complained, her eyes trained on the lady’s maid as she quietly entered the room. She was sitting at her chair beside the window, posed in such a way that it must have been planned. She held a book in one delicate hand, just high enough that if she really were reading it like that - - she’d get an awful ache in her shoulder and elbow before long. Her other hand was pressed to her breast, as if at any moment she might faint from the effort of breathing.

  Philomena had dressed into an outfit that could only be described as a confection. Frothy lace peeked out from beneath the light pink sleeves of a linen dress on the verge of being consumed by bushels of bows. Beneath the front of the dress, the petticoats were possibly even frothier than the lace under her sleeves. It was a costume, and Victoria didn’t recognize it. She did, however, recognize the bulbous and patchy feathers Philomena wound into their mistress’s hair. Lady Elmira’s red mane itself had been brushed and curled into a grand puff. Combined with far too much powder, she looked as if she were sporting the next of a large, mythical bird on her head. It would be fine enough in any other dress, but that…

  “My lady, your outfit–” Victoria began, choosing her words carefully. Lady Elmira could be quite sensitive about her appearance. “--is it new?”

  “Do you like it?” Lady Elmira chirped, electing to answer the question with another one instead. She set her book aside so she could pluck happily at her skirts with both hands. The fading evening light from the window gave her an ethereal glow.

  She finally explained herself, “Philomena and I have been working on it for quite some time. During the hours when you have been occupied. It was mother’s. The bows were my little addition. I wanted to prepare for my debut next season…” Her bright smile faded just a touch.

  “I wasn’t aware you and Phille–” Victoria began, catching herself as she almost slipped into using her friend’s pet name, “--Philomena were on such friendly terms.”

  She clasped her hands in front of her waist, and really tried to size up her lady’s appearance with a more thoughtful look. It wouldn’t do to hurt the girl’s pride, given how happy the dress made her.

  “I think it makes you look a perfect angel. You are sure to attract all of the eligible bachelors in the ton if you aren’t careful,” Victoria finally said. No manner of silly dress could ever hide the glow of her lady’s smile. Lady Elmira could wear a sack, and still be the loveliest girl in all the county.

  The smile she received for her efforts was gratifying. Victoria was glad to see her happy. She’d already had enough melancholy tonight, under no circumstances would Victoria allow her lady’s mood to match her unhappy father’s.

  She may not dislike the baron, who was a good man most days - - but tonight was exceedingly uncomfortable. Embarrassing. He and everyone else in the manor deserved to be so much happier. Lady Elmira more than anyone else. Victoria needn’t remind herself even mentioning the events that night to anyone was undignified.

  “I am glad you like it,” Lady Elmira said, leaning forward just enough to concern her lady’s maid. The skirt must weigh quite a bit with all those ribbons. She’d hate for her lady to fall.

  “We’ll have to get you sorted soon, my lady. As lovely as you are, I shouldn’t take it would make for the best sleeping gown. May I help you dress for bed?” Victoria asked, approaching Lady Elmira swiftly, just in case she should fall.

  Lady Elmira sucked in her upper lip and pushed her bottom lip out in an unbecoming pout. It was a peculiar expression she’d mastered as a petulant child, and elevated into an artform as a young woman.

  “Very well,” Victoria relented, biting back a deep sigh. “You need not change just yet if you do not wish to. I have a few hours to sit with my lady. Let’s enjoy the evening together in your lovely new dress.” If that same dress just so happened to disappear within the depths of Lady Elmira’s wardrobe for all eternity, Victoria was sure it wouldn’t be missed terribly.

  “Let us have tea!” Lady Elmira exclaimed, clapping her hands together emphatically.

  “Perhaps something a little more mild, my lady. Tea does tend to keep you awake. I believe Mrs. Pragajh prepared some nice barley water this afternoon. How about we enjoy that with a few Bath Oliver biscuits and perhaps some cheese?”

  “I should prefer something sweet,” Lady Emira complained, “but I suppose those will do just fine.”

  Victoria smiled tenderly at her mistress, tempted to gently pat her feathered hair, but deciding against it. There wasn’t enough fresh water left in the kitchens to scrub her hands if they became covered in powder.

  She quickly departed to the kitchens to fetch the light meal for Lady Elmira. The corridor between the kitchen and the parlor was uncommonly well-lit. She took note of it as she carried a tray with a clay pitcher of barley water, mugs, a plate of biscuits and hard cheese, and a knife to cut it with. Perhaps Gordon had decided to show off as the baron’s new valet, and dug into his personal vanity supplies of fresh candles to brighten their evening affair.

  “Popinjay,” she mumbled under her breath. It most definitely was Gordon’s doing. She just knew it. She also knew good and well that once Lord Albert and his guest retired for the evening, those same night candles would be removed. The very fact that he’d somehow made time between supper and her departure to swap the candles out irritated her. As if he didn’t trust Victoria not to mention it in front of the viscount. Or Lord Albert.

  Had she lingered even for a moment to observe the parlor door, she’d have noticed the viscount himself watching her. Victoria was so singularly focused on returning to her mistress, she might as well have been wearing horse blinders.

  A shadow danced behind her, passing through the bright lights of the corridor until they grew much fainter as she approached Lady Elmira’s bedchamber. Some of the remaining stubs left near her door had sputtered out, allowing the shadow to simply melt away.

  She paused only briefly. For just a moment, Victoria thought to turn and look behind her. The pitcher slid across her tray and she rushed to prevent it from falling. Distracted by the near disaster, she quickly pushed open the bedchamber door and walked into Lady Elmira’s room.

  “Victoria!” Her mistress cheered, throwing her hands up in childish glee. The lady’s maid merely smiled and approached to place her tray on the small table beside the window so that Lady Elmira could easily reach it.

  “Do you want me to slice some Cheshire for you? Mrs. Pragajh just had it restocked in the larder, and I thought a nice treat would do us both some good tonight.” As Victoria spoke, she was already preparing several slices with smart cuts of the knife. It wasn’t entirely proper to dine with one’s mistress, but Lady Elmira was a different breed (as with all things). Convincing her to eat so much as a crumb could be difficult if she didn’t have company to enjoy it in.

  “Thank you,” Lady Elmira said very politely. Almost too politely, in fact. Victoria hesitated in handing over a biscuit and slice of cheese, frowning.

  “You know, Victoria, one need not be a princess to find true love.”

  “My lady, I hardly think you should confess such things to me for the mere gesture of a late night snack,” Victoria replied softly. She wiped her hands on her skirts, dusting away the crumbs so she could grip the pitcher with clean fingers and pour a generous serving of barley water into Lady Elmira’s mug.

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  Her mistress’s smile grew wide and mischievous, “you do far much more than feed me, my sweet Victoria. Alas!” She clapped a hand over her breast, while the other greedily brought the biscuit and cheese to her lips. “I have long accepted that you should marry and break my heart before long,” Lady Elmira continued. She took a small bite of her biscuit, dramatically rolling her eyes in delight.

  Victoria poured her own barley water and replaced the pitcher on the tray. “My lady, I am truly honored that you think so much of me. Now, what flight of fancy are you taking this evening? Have you fallen for Mister Grady?” Her eyebrows shot up, matching Lady Elmira’s dramatic attitude with one of her own.

  “That old man?” Lady Elmira nearly sputtered.

  “Thirty-seven is not so ancient, my lady. Your father, the baron, is older than that,” Victoria pointed out. She took a long sip of barley water, enjoying the earthy fragrance and taste.

  Lady Elmira stubbornly pursed her lips, reaching for another biscuit, “I was referring to you, Victoria. I think it’s time you found that great love which guides all men and women to their truest joy and peace.”

  “You’ve been reading trash again, haven’t you?”

  “My brother’s letters are not trash, Victoria!”

  “The broadsheets and gossip columns he likes to slip into those missives are, in fact, trash. He, of all people, should know not to fill your head with nonsense.”

  Lady Elmira turned her head to look out the window, “well, whatever the case, I wasn’t reading anything. I was talking to Philomena.”

  “That’s worse,” Victoria teased. Her beloved friend and mistress seemed to be conspiring about more than dresses behind her back.

  “Victoria, I just want you to be happy. That’s all I wanted to say. I want us all to be happy, and I’ve noticed of late that you have been…” Lady Elmira trailed off. Some of the cheerful mood was slipping away. Victoria simply would not allow that.

  “My lady,” she began, softening her tone as she placed her mug on the table. “If I am sad, it is merely the weather. I am happy, generally. I am even more happy when I know that I can serve you well and care for you.” Victoria held out a hand to take one of Lady Elmira’s, which was happily given. She squeezed it gently, meaningfully.

  “Love is not something we are all meant to have. Neither is it the resolution to all things in life. Perhaps I will find it. Most definitely, you will. If I can wake up every morning to a good meal, and go to bed every night knowing that those I care for are cared for - - I should always be happy.”

  Lady Elmira took as deep a breath as her dress would allow, and let it out. “I’ll find you and Philomena a pair of very handsome and very rich husbands by summer’s end. I promise.”

  “And I’ll find every one of your brother’s silly letters by tomorrow morning. I promise.”

  “Victoria!”

  “Have another biscuit, my lady,” Victoria urged, dropping the subject.

  After some time, Victoria managed to wrestle Lady Elmira’s confectionary monstrosity from her body. It took a combination of strength and scissors. Philomena had stitched the blasted thing together around the back. All well and good if she actually knew how to use her needle and thread properly. She did not.

  Once that was done, she helped her mistress into her nightgown and tucked her into bed to while away their remaining evening hours together. Lady Elmira wished to stay up later than she should, and once more Victoria acquiesced against her better judgment.

  “Victoria,” Lady Elmira called her name as the lady’s maid took her place in the chair by the window, adjusting the mountain of pillows behind her just so.

  “Yes, my lady?” She replied, supposing she wanted more barley water, or perhaps read from one of her favorite novels. She was only partially right.

  “Fetch the letter on my writing desk. I should like you to read it to me,” Lady Elmira gestured towards the small table to the far left of her room which was rarely visited. She only corresponded with one person. Her brother.

  “Haven’t you already read it yourself?” Victoria asked, dubiously. This felt like an invasion of privacy. At least on the part of Lady Elmira’s unwitting sibling. She hadn’t actually intended to take any of her mistress’s letters from her.

  Lady Elmira smiled, and gave a tiny nod. “Yes, I have, but I have questions I thought you could answer for me. It’s easier if you know the whole of the piece, you understand?”

  Standing, Victoria walked over to the writing desk to snatch up the waiting letter. It was stuffed into the envelope, crumbles of the broken seal crumpled over the desk itself. She would clean that up before she retired for the evening.

  “I am afraid I do not, but if my lady wishes then I shall read it for you.” She removed the letter and left the envelope on the desk, walking back to her seat by the window and sitting down.

  “My dearest sister,” Victoria began to read aloud, eyes scanning over the letter in her hands, “come December, I shall visit for a spell. Do you recall Edmund? Lord Belgrave, the trying fellow you are so fond of.”

  She lowered the paper to her lap, already uncertain about continuing.

  “Do go on, Victoria,” Lady Elmira urged, flapping a hand at her impatiently. The evening hours had passed quickly.

  Victoria was tempted to sigh, but raised the letter to continue reading, “you wrote so many poems to me about him when you were younger. I wish you to know that they are still a secret between us. However much he may beg to know you better, he shant know of your affections until you wish it made known.”

  Somehow the more she read, the more Victoria felt there was an ulterior motive to this request to read to her, and wanted to say as much.

  “My lady, you wrote poems about a man you hardly know to your brother?” Victoria asked, astonished. She’d never even known her mistress had such affections for anyone.

  Lady Elmira shook her head, laughing. “He was shamelessly exaggerating. I wrote a remark that the man had nice eyes. Once. In passing.” She waved her hand once again, even more impatient, “go on! Read the rest! You have such a lovely voice.”

  Victoria gave her mistress a patient, but tired smile. “May lady, this feels rather intrusive. Why would you want me to know what your brother writes to you?”

  “Please.” Lady Elmira urged. Then she made her familiar pouting expression. There was no denying her.

  Feeling thoroughly emotionally blackmailed, Victoria continued reading, “should this winter season bring me the delight of a new brother and a wedded sister, I shall celebrate forthwith. That is to say, Edmund will be joining me on my visit. Father will have received a letter as well telling him as much. Lastly, how is Victoria doing? Does she still hum when she dusts? Inform Grady I should like the whole house dusted when I visit. Yours, forever and always, the perfect devoted brother who would sacrifice the world to see you happy, Lord Richard Sommer.”

  Embarrassed, exhausted, and relieved to be done with the letter, Victoria placed it upon the small side table by the window. She didn’t miss the expectant stare from her mistress. It was theatrical in its intensity.

  She stood up and smoothed out the front of her skirt as best she could, making it a point to focus her gaze on her feet. This was the challenge of balancing the precarious line between being a friend and a servant. Honesty had its limits. Patience, too, had its limits.

  “My lady, any questions you may have about this letter escape me,” she began, “and I think it is best for us both to retire. We can discuss this tomorrow morning.”

  Lady Elmira leaned forward, opening her mouth to protest. Victoria held up a hand to stop her.

  “Elmira,” she said her name without her title, the line between them sharpening and thinning with that one dangerous gesture, “you know that asking me to read that letter was wrong. I should say, commanding I do so, even. I care for you and your family. Truly. You will never know the difference between us. Affections between your brother and a lady are romantic. I am not a lady. I am a maid. I am beneath you.” Tears stung at her eyes as she spoke. Her chest tightened, pain coiling as she struggled to keep her breaths even. Calm. Collected. She strode towards the door. Her face was turned just so that Lady Elmira could not see it.

  “Vickey–”

  “My lady,” Victoria whispered. Her voice cracked, betraying her pain. She left the room, knowing the candles would have to burn themselves out. Lady Elmira would not be able to reach the sconces.

  It felt like an empty gesture. Something that would be dismissed tomorrow with a hint of irritation on the part of her mistress. Yet what more could she do? Bursting into tears right in front of Lady Elmira would do neither of them any good. Once she closed the door, Victoria pressed her forehead against the wood to steady herself. She counted her breaths. She focused on holding back everything. Calming herself. Letting it go. So much easier said than done.

  Seconds crawled. Minutes followed, even slower. When the burn behind her eyes and the hammering of her heart in her chest stilled enough for her to feel like she could walk away, Victoria turned around. She was not alone.

  “Lord Grace!” Victoria exclaimed, nearly shouted in surprise. Her cheeks flushed. How much had he seen?