WoA2.23Smashwords (3 page)

“He has told me that we may call him Eck--”

“That’s very well, dear.” She handed me the gloves, “Have you lost your way, Mr. Eckhardt?”

“I was simply admiring your beautiful home and got distracted by some of the more... interesting pieces.” He was staring at me, and I became uncomfortable.

“Will you follow us into the drawing room, then?” she asked and led us out. I turned to look at the painting of my mother and father. It was the first time that I had not given them the childish curtsy and for some reason, I felt nervous for it.

As we walked toward the drawing room, Eckhardt asked many questions about Rhineholt House, which I proudly answered.

“The structure was built by Charles Rhineholt, whom my Uncle was named for,” I said.

“It is all Elizabethan?” Eckhardt asked, and I was happy to find he was very interested in the subject.

“Of course, and Charles Rhineholt would not have a single imperfection. He was very particular as the home was a gift to his son for his wedding. They say he was a torturous old man who had parts of the house redesigned so many times that his architect went mad and threw himself from the East tower.”

“Tamsin, I’m sure that’s just a story they tell in the servants’ hall. Must you insist on telling that nonsense to every visitor?” My Aunt asked. I was captivated by Rhineholt, and I knew the history inside out. This was not a tale that was whispered among the servants, it was written in the house records that my Uncle kept in the library.

“It is a rather intriguing story,” Eckhardt said, walking behind me. I turned my head to see him smiling at me and faced forward immediately.

Arriving in the drawing room, we saw that everyone else had arrived. Aunt Emmaline asked forgiveness on account of my gloves. Although I was acquainted with many of our guests, I became truly nervous when my Aunt presented me with great ceremony. My legs shook, and I was glad of the bulky skirt that hid them from sight.

Doctor Haskins was an older man and his wife was plain, even next to my Aunt. He asked after my health, which appeared to be his traditional first topic of conversation. Then there was Eckhardt and his father who was simply an older version of his son and a thin, timid-looking woman who was introduced as Eckhardt’s mother. They were German, but I had not detected much of an accent when I first met the man in the Long Hall. My Uncle stood with Eckhardt’s parents talking of London.

“Tamsin will be seeing London for the first time, shortly. We plan to spend a while there before she departs for school in Stuttgart,” Uncle Charles said, I noticed a look exchanged between the Eckhardt men.

“How interesting, we come from near Stuttgart, ourselves,” Eckhardt’s mother said.

“I have not been farther than the village through the woods. This year will hold many adventures for me, it seems,” I replied.

“You will be delighted with Stuttgart, it is very beautiful. The Black Forest is simply enchanting,” Eckhardt said.

“I do so look forward to seeing it for myself,” I replied.

“Tamsin, we mustn’t forget to welcome the other guests,” Aunt Emmaline said, taking my arm. I noticed a nod from Eckhardt to which I smiled in return.

I followed my Aunt to where Lord and Lady Hilbourne stood with their eldest son, whom I recognized and cringed. Lady Hilbourne walked right up to me and took both of my hands, kissing my cheek. I was taken aback.

“Apologies for my forwardness, your mother and I, we were very close and... you just look so much like her, now.” I had not seen the Hilbournes in some time.

“You must call me Celia! I will not have any objection!” she said looking sideways at my Aunt, who I knew did not like that idea.

Lord Hilbourne took my hand, commenting on how much I’d grown since last he saw me, and told me that I should call him Reginald from then on. Next I was passed over to Julian for the standard ‘
Good evening
’, and I could not hide the fact that I still found him utterly loathsome. He was almost five years my senior, with unruly dark hair that was carelessly rustled into a stylish mess. His expressive grey eyes seemed to be constantly amused and his thin sideburns expertly framed his strong jaw line and only added to the look of arrogance. His cravat was not as extravagant as Eckhardt’s, but he still managed to look elegant in dark blue and silver and his smile suggested a certain amount of belief that the world was simply putting on a show for him.

One summer, Hilda took Leonard and Julian Hilbourne as her charges while Celia and Reginald spent a year on their plantation in India. The journey alone took several months and when they left, their sons were away at school, but on their summer between sessions, they would need someone to look after them. My Aunt and Uncle volunteered Hilda, who was given extra wage to keep an eye on us all.

Leonard was a chubby, light haired boy about three years my senior, who I did not care for. He took to calling me ‘
Rusty
,' a name I despised, which was coined by his older brother on their arrival at Rhineholt. I would often hide from them in hopes that I could escape the torture, but Bernadine always seemed to know where I was and would give me away. When they both left in the early fall, it was quiet, but I almost missed their presence because Rhineholt was so lonely again. I did not miss Julian pulling on my braids at all.

Julian went to learn the trade business on their family’s estate in India the same year that Leonard enlisted to go and fight against Napoleon in France. The battle of Waterloo happened quickly after his enlistment, and when he was injured his family sent him to their London House. Although my Aunt would not often discuss the war with me, she would share messages and letters that she received from distant cousins and Celia. The most recent letter told of Leonard’s coming arrival in London, which would now be very soon.

Julian took my hand and kissed it, a tradition I found thoroughly disgusting. I snatched my hand back as quickly as it was taken.

“I see we are still where we left off,” he said, smiling down at me. He was much taller than I remembered, though that is to be expected when eight years pass. His hair was also darker, and he seemed to have taken some sun from his time in India, but his eyes were still the same grey they were when he was a boy. I turned away from him, but Aunt Emmaline noticed and gave me a nudge of the elbow.

I forced a smile. “How lovely to see you again
Mister
Hilbourne.”

“Are we to be so formal, now?” he asked as a conversation began between my Aunt and Lord and Lady Hilbourne, “We do go so far back, after all.”

I changed the subject. "You are just back from India?"

“I am,” he responded proudly. "I'm sure you would find it an intriguing place, it is like nowhere
you've
ever been, I can assure you. India is somewhat of an adventure and far different from civilized old England." There was an amused lilt in his voice. He was implying that I was too young and well-protected to have ever been anywhere outside of the country, let alone the walls of Rhineholt. It frustrated me that he was very nearly right.

"Oh? Is that so? I imagine you fit in quite well with the
uncivilized
," I said with a raised eyebrow.

He had an unmistakably sly smile on his lips as he spoke his reply.

"Well, I certainly do get along with the locals." I was relieved that Eckhardt came up to us then.

“I don’t believe that we have met,” He said to Julian, and they introduced themselves to one another. Had Aunt Emmaline noticed I was not doing my duties as hostess, I would surely have been scolded.

The butler announced dinner. As everyone began to shuffle toward the dining room, Eckhardt took my arm, and I saw that Julian was amused by this. Luckily, Celia was next to me at dinner, and I was less nervous because she made me feel so at ease.

Celia was beautiful, with light brown hair and dark eyes, and although she was older than my Aunt, she appeared to look much younger. She explained that she was half French and half German, though I could not detect more than the German accent. She told me of the time she spent at the convent school in Germany with my mother. Her family was from Stuttgart and lived near the school. My mother had often spent holidays and summers at their home. She also said that she believed the Eckhardts lived near there, as well, though she was not really familiar with them.

Baron Eckhardt sat on Celia’s other side along with his wife, but he was quiet and said little to me. Mrs. Eckhardt was chillingly silent through the entire meal. Mr. Eckhardt spoke more to my Uncle who was at the head of the table on Mrs. Eckhardt’s other side. My Aunt sat opposite my Uncle, and this left Julian sitting between Aunt Emmaline and Eckhardt which I was certain made for a dull evening. I giggled at one point when he gave me a look of desperation after a lengthy conversation with my Aunt about the weather. He was lucky to not be stuck talking to Doctor Haskins about his remedies for his wife’s ailments.

Once we all finished the meal, my Uncle asked that we go to the Long Hall.

“Our Tamsin seems to have a talent for music, and I’m certain she would be happy to entertain you all.”

Uncle Charles smiled at me, and I turned red because I had never played for anyone but my Aunt and Uncle, and Hilda... and the portraits, of course. Everyone stood, and Julian rushed to my side, taking my arm and escorting me with his nose in the air, a mischievous imitation of Eckhardt, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Dear God, the incessant rambling during that dinner. How
do
you put up with it all day long?” He was referring to Aunt Emmaline and as right as he was, she was still my Aunt. I scowled at him.

“Apologies! I see that you are loyal to your Aunt. What do you think of that Eckhardt?
Quite
the bore, don’t you agree?”

“I would not know, I did not have the opportunity to speak with him for as long as I wanted to,” I said.

“You are still giving me the cold shoulder, then?” he asked.

“You have made it difficult for me to do otherwise,” I said as we arrived to the Long Hall. I was finally able to get away from him.

Celia played a tune on the spinnet first, which lightened the mood and made me less apprehensive about playing for everyone. Sitting on the velvet bench, my mother and father’s portrait was looking right down on me as I began to play. I became calm again, forgetting that there was anyone else in the room. The Telemann piece was finished before I knew it and there was applause. I looked up at the portrait of my mother and father before giving a curtsy to my audience.

Aunt Emmaline stumbled through a piece and then Celia played again before we parted ways with the gentlemen to go to the drawing room.

I never understood the tradition of separating the men from the women after dinner, but I was relieved to be alone with the ladies. When we arrived in the drawing room, Mrs. Eckhardt had just barely sat down when she stood back up.

“It was such a long ride from London and I’m quite exhausted. I do hope you will all excuse me?” Mrs. Eckhardt seemed uncomfortable surrounded by people she hardly knew and perhaps it was more the reason she decided to end her evening then.

“Of course not!” Aunt Emmaline stood and walked with her to the door.

“These halls can be difficult to navigate this time of night. Shall I call for a maid to take you to your room?” I asked. Mrs. Eckhardt looked behind her into the dimly lit hallway and when she turned back with a timid expression and a brief nod, I rang the bell for the maid. The wait for Franny took some time, but it may have felt longer for Mrs. Eckhardt offered little conversation. She seemed very happy when she was guided from the room by the rather flamboyant maid.

When we were alone, Celia and my Aunt decided I would be chaperoned by Lady Hilbourne on my journey to Germany. Not only would it be helpful to my Aunt, who had many engagements in London during the time of my travel, but Celia had plans to visit her mother around that month.

Celia told us that she would be leaving the following afternoon to meet her son, Leo, in the village. He would be arriving by carriage from London.

“He has not been back since the war and what kind of mother would I be if I did not go to greet him? I do have the morning and I was hoping that you might ride with me around the Rhineholt grounds before we depart?” she asked me. I looked at Aunt Emmaline and she nodded her approval.

When Hilda took me riding, she would fall far behind me, so it would feel as though I had a little time to myself, but it was not the same freedom as when I played songs in the Long Hall. Uncle Charles gave me a docile white mare called Truffle for Christmas the same year that he got Aunt Emmaline a beautiful golden horse called Perseus. My Aunt was once thrown from her horse, and it was thought to be the reason she was barren. It took her a year to fully heal from the accident. When my Uncle gave her the horse as a gift, she refused to ride him. Before long, my riding skill was far better than my governess’s, so I began to exercise Perseus while Hilda took Truffle. Since I was a better horsewoman, Hilda happily rode the sweet, fat creature whose mane was always in her eyes.

In my room, after the guests had retired, I began to unbutton the gown and take down my hair when there was a knock at the door and my Aunt entered. She took over letting down my hair before saying anything to me. When she had brushed and braided it all into one long tail, she sat down on the bed.

“Dear, what did you think of Mr. Eckhardt?” she asked. I was not sure how to answer the question. I spent so little time with him that evening and was not sure what I was supposed to be judging him on.

“He seemed awfully dull,” I said and she sighed at my response.

“The Eckhardts are well known in Germany. They have a large estate and there is, of course, the title...” she said. I was still not certain what she was getting at.