A Heart Revealed (14 page)

Amber shook her head but could not speak, the fear and sorrow was too thick in her throat. She had told her mother she did not want to return to Somerset—too many people would have heard what happened. Too many people would come for gossip disguised as sympathy, and Amber felt such frailty within herself that she knew it would not take much for her to break into a thousand pieces. The faces at Carlton House haunted her.

“I have considered all other possibilities,” Lord Marchent continued, “and decided upon an estate in the North Country, away from society and connections that might seek you out. I think it will meet the need most comfortably.”

“In Nottingham?” Amber asked. Lord Marchent traveled to his Nottingham estate a few times a year; it was his largest holding of land and therefore quite profitable. He had often remarked that the family would live there if not for its distance from London. Amber had not been to Nottingham for several years and knew no one in that county. It could be a good escape; the estate was not nearly as large as Hampton Grove but would be comfortable for a single occupant not of a mind to entertain visitors.

“Not Nottingham,” Lord Marchent said, shaking his head. “This estate is near Romanby—just south of that village, in fact. I travel there but once a year to meet with the caretaker and solicitor. I have thought to sell it in the past, but it brings in profit enough to support itself so I have maintained it.”

Amber furrowed her brow. “Romanby?”

“Just south of Northallerton,” her father said. He removed his spectacles and massaged the bridge of his nose as though her questions were taxing his patience. “Yorkshire. You’ll be safe there and very comfortable as you convalesce. I have sent word to have the house readied for you in time for your arrival.”

Amber blinked in surprise and looked at her mother. “It’s all decided, then? I have no say?”

“You refused to return to Hampton Grove,” Lady Marchent reminded her. “Your father and I have discussed the options, and this is the best one available. You will be comfortable there, and no one will know of what happened here in London.”

“Am I to go alone?” Amber asked. She knew her father would not leave London until parliament finished their session, but surely her mother would not send her so far away alone. Yorkshire was at least a two-day journey.

“I shall come as soon as I can,” her mother said, looking into her lap and straightening a fold in the skirt of her morning gown. “I’m afraid that Darra and I cannot be in readiness to go with you now.”

“Darra is not to come,” Amber spat, filled with the fire she felt each time she thought of her sister’s betrayal. “She did this, Mama. She and her friend.”

Lady Marchent gave her a look of irritation. “Darra claims no part of it. Furthermore it was Darra’s idea to explain that the rinse you had already talked of had gone further awry than we dared to say, resulting in your horrific state. People have been accepting of such an explanation, and you have Darra to thank for the rescue. We need to remain in London so as to show our confidence in your eventual return once you are properly recovered. Should we all leave, it will seem a far greater scandal.”

“Your mother will come as soon as she is able,” Lord Marchent said, drawing the full attention of both women. “Your maid has agreed to attend you for the duration of time you spend away.”

A maid for her companion was hardly compensation for everything Amber would be leaving behind. “Yorkshire is so far away,” she said. “Could I not go to Nottingham instead? Then I shall only be a day’s journey from all of you, and I am not well enough known there that—”

Lord Marchent fixed her with a look that caused her to drop her gaze to the floor once more. “I have already sent word to have Step Cottage prepared for you. I shall not consider other arrangements.”

“Yes, my lord,” Amber murmured, still staring at the rug beneath her feet.

“Your maid is packing your trunks even now,” Lady Marchent said. “And your father has ordered the traveling carriage readied for your journey. Two groomsmen will attend you for a few days’ time upon arrival, procuring you a carriage and seeing to any other tasks of your comfort before they return with the coach. They shall be meeting with your father’s steward who, along with your father’s man of business in Northallerton, will see that your needs are met.”

Amber dared look up at her mother. “I am to leave
today
?”

“We need to regain a sense of normalcy and decorum about this house,” her father said. “There is no reason for delay now that I have finished all the correspondence that must attend you. This has not been a simple arrangement to make, and I should think you would express adequate gratitude for the difficulties we have gone to for your care.”

Amber nodded her acceptance of his investment but could not speak. Her throat was dry with fear for what awaited her. She had never lived apart from her family, her siblings at least, and to do so at such a distance in a cottage she’d never seen before was shocking to accept. She could not help but feel as though she were being discarded as any other belonging no longer of use to its owner.

Lord Marchent continued, “Despite the intervention of your sister’s story to explain it, the horrific scene you created has most certainly come under the attention of London gossips. As long as you remain here, none of us can recover from the burden you have placed upon us.”

“You sound as though I did this with purpose,” she said, feeling a wave of strength, though she kept her hands tightly clenched in her lap and her eyes fixed on the rug. “As though I would bring this upon us of my own will.”

For the space of several breaths the room was silent, then Lord Marchent stood from his chair. “There is no space for blame in this.” She could hear the fatigue in his voice; oh, but her parents were a pair for one another with their disregard. The thought did not bring the emotion it once might. Perhaps she had spent her emotion and was left empty of any feeling at all.

Lord Marchent continued, “There are circumstances in life that happen regardless of our will. All we can do is react as best we can so as to have as little impact on the comfort of others as possible. That you have to endure such a thing is unfortunate indeed, but I should think you would not want your family to suffer along with you. I should think that as a woman of feeling and sound mind you should want to protect us from such derision, not ask that we share it with you.”

“The country will be a good place for you to be restored,” her mother offered. “And we shall all hope for your return to London next season.”

Amber shrank away from the thought. Could she expect that anyone would have forgotten her humiliation by next year? She could not imagine it so she focused on the restoration her mother had mentioned. That would be her reason in agreeing to this. She could do anything so long as it would help her find her true self once again. Besides, her father was right. She should trust that her parents wanted what was best for her and not create further difficulty by arguing selfish concerns.

“As your mother said, your maid is attending to your trunks and preparing to ready you for the journey.”

There seemed nothing else to say. “Yes, my lord.” She stood, curtsied stiffly, and left the room feeling apart from what was happening around her. All of this because she was no longer the perfect debutante, the perfect daughter? She had never before imagined that one aspect of a person could have such power as to change every detail of their existence.

When Amber returned to her bedchamber she found Suzanne doing exactly what Lord and Lady Marchent had said she would be doing—preparing Amber’s trunks for the journey north. Upon a closer inspection, she noted the maid’s red face and swollen eyes. “What is wrong?” she snapped. Suzanne wasn’t ill, was she? That would make the journey even more difficult.

Suzanne shook her head and continued folding Amber’s nightdress into the smaller trunk, the one that would attend her at the inns they would stay in along the way. Amber did not know if they would stop over for one night or two, but the thought of staying in an inn at all made her shiver in repulsion. She had heard tales that made her wish they could drive straight through the night, though she had never done that either. She had never had the need to cover such a distance.

“I thought you might want your yellow traveling dress today,” Suzanne said. “Which dresses should I set aside for the rest of the journey?” Her voice broke and she sniffled with the last part.

Amber realized that it was not illness causing her maid’s disposition. Rather, the woman was . . . sad?

“Did you not agree to attend me?” Amber asked, annoyed and strangely hurt by the idea, which made no sense at all. Suzanne was just a maid and Amber cared not for her opinion.

Suzanne continued pulling items from the wardrobe and laying them on the bed. Amber noted that none of her ball gowns or fancier pieces were being packed, but then she’d have no need for them in Yorkshire. Should she return next season—still a difficult prospect to consider—she would need a new wardrobe to fit the current fashions.

“I asked if you did not agree to attend me?” Amber said when Suzanne still did not answer, not disguising her irritation at having to repeat herself. “I’ve no mind to deal with a sullen maid amid already difficult circumstances.”

Suzanne looked up and her eyes flashed as her hands gripped the gown in her hands. “What choice do I have?” she said, her voice controlled but passionate. “I have been told that should I not attend you to Yorkshire I shall never find employ in this city again. I have lived in London all of my life; my family is here. Forgive me my
sullenness
, Miss, but ’tis not only your future being changed.”

Amber backed up a step. She’d never had a servant address her with so much feeling and did not know how to respond. As she thought on the words again, however, she felt a different manner of discomfort. “Who said you wouldn’t find employment if you did not attend me?”

Suzanne went back to her work, her cheeks pink but her mouth tightly shut.

“I asked you a question,” Amber said harshly.

Suzanne whipped her head up, once again full of passion Amber did not expect. “What does it matter? My fate is bound to yours, Miss, but I shall get none of the sympathy.”

“You think anyone is regarding me with sympathy?” Amber said in angry surprise. “I am a pariah. I have lost everything.”

“As have I,” Suzanne said boldly. “What am I to do in Yorkshire? There shan’t be fine clothes to attend to, fashions to style. You haven’t even any hair for me to care for, nor anywhere to go. I have already been set about as a chambermaid these last weeks, which is far below my training, and now I shall attend a woman without hair and without kindness in the wilds of the north country and leave behind me every person I’ve ever loved as well as any prospect of a greater position. I have lost as much as you.”

The concept of Suzanne having lost anything at all was overwhelming, and Amber sat on a chair at the small table brought up for her meals as she looked upon her maid . . . no, as she looked upon this
woman
. With Amber’s fall from grace, Suzanne had become an unintended casualty.

Suzanne had likely invested all the years of Amber’s life in rising to this point of attending the ladies of the
ton
. She surely expected to attend Amber long enough to transition into the full position of a lady’s maid. And now she was to be exiled. Amber thought of Suzanne’s words:
“Leave behind me every person I’ve ever loved.”
Amber had never thought of servants having a life outside of the house they worked for. But of course they would.

“Who do you leave behind, Suzanne?” Amber asked, her voice surprisingly soft even to her own ears.

Suzanne had gone back to packing, though she wiped her eyes a time or two. Amber waited for an answer. Finally, after several seconds, Suzanne took a breath. “I have two sisters in London, both with families of their own. My mother is in ill health and living with my youngest sister. We all assist her when we can. Eliza is expecting her fourth child in a few months’ time and has had quite a time of it.”

Another remark Suzanne had made came back to Amber’s mind.
“I shall attend a woman without hair and without kindness.”
Why Amber should be affected by a servant’s opinion of her she did not know, but realizing how Suzanne regarded her made her feel heavy inside.

Suzanne turned to the wardrobe and removed Amber’s stockings and underthings from the bottom drawer. Amber watched her smooth out each piece, fold it carefully, and tuck it into the trunk. Even with her anger and devastation at being forced to leave London she was attentive to her tasks, attentive to Amber.

“I am sorry, Suzanne,” Amber said, seized by an emotion she was unable to define. Her best attempt labeled it as regret for Suzanne’s circumstance and guilt for being the cause of it. Surely she had come about these feelings naturally at some time in her life, as there was a familiarity to them, but not recently to be sure, as they were foreign too. Suzanne looked at her with hesitation, and Amber took a breath. “It is not right that you should be affected by this after you have served me so well these last weeks. I shall talk to my mother and ask that she find you a position worthy of your station. She has many connections, and I will insist she ensure you a solid post.”

“Who would then attend you?” Suzanne asked, hesitant but eager too. “You can’t travel to Yorkshire alone.”

No, she couldn’t travel to Yorkshire alone. Amber looked at the rug beneath her feet as she sought a solution in her mind, then met her maid’s eyes. “The groomsmen attending me will be returning to London after I am settled. You could come with me to this estate and return with them to London. You will be gone but a week.”

“And leave you there alone?”

“I’m sure I can find a maid in Yorkshire,” Amber said, ignoring the fear springing up in her chest of having to show herself to someone new. “Or perhaps I am not in need of an abigail.” The idea of not having anyone to care for her person was frightening, but she attempted to keep from showing the emotion. The other servants could be kept at such a distance so as to not even know of her condition. “If you only pack the simpler dresses rather than those with the more elaborate fastenings about them, I could dress myself without assistance. As you said, I have nothing to ready myself for and no hair to be attended.”