An Enchanted Beginning Read online

  Lilly Thayer walked in holding a tray of mulled wine and sugar cakes and set them on a small table aside the sofa. She gave a quick curtsey. “Lady Maycott, Lady Maycott. I hope my nieces are seeing to your every need. I will return momentarily.”

  Abby waved toward the tray. “Please, try one. Aunt Lilly’s sugar cakes are renowned throughout Bristol.”

  Rachel stood up, holding her back. “Sugar cakes don’t appeal to my cravings. I think I’d like to walk a bit before the others arrive.”

  Abby spoke up. “Do not mind Rachel. She says the most random things. Twice before she had lost her memories. Now, I fear she has too many.” Abby giggled.

  Seanna leaned forward. "What happened?"

  Bethany interrupted. "Seanna, it is not polite to question one’s condition."

  "It is all right." Abby continued. "Several years ago, Rachel fell out of a tree. She had no memory of where she lived, how to make lace, or even how to dress herself properly. She conducted herself in the most unladylike fashion. It was all very strange. Once she snuck out of the house dressed as a boy. Another time, two men tried to abduct her, but Rachel would not have anything to do with it. She used her person and hit one of the men in the most sacred of places, making him fall to his knees.”

  Bethany glanced at her sister who stood and smiled. "I believe Lady Dohetry may be in need of an escort. I shall return momentarily."

  Abby glanced at Bethany.

  Bethany grinned and looked down at her hands. "My sister has also been known to sneak out of our home wearing men’s clothing, and, on occasion, to fight with a sword." She wasn’t about to admit to anyone that when Seanna came to rescue Bethany at the monastery, —costumed in men’s tatters—they exchanged clothing to get Bethany out unnoticed.

  "Oh." Abby became quiet and watched Lilly walk in with a vase of foxtails and set it on a table.

  Abby bit her lip, her eyes following Lilly around the room until she left. Then her eyes lit up and she straightened in her chair. “We thought it to be Master James at the time, but found it was his sister who hired the men. Lord Alexander rescued Rachel from the tyrants and returned her home.”

  Bethany covered her mouth in instant alarm. James’s sister not only abducted Bethany, but attempted to abduct the Lady Dohetry as well. She could not recall the sister’s name, though she knew she’d heard it several times those first few days after her rescue. But she distinctly remembered her face: those cold, dark eyes threatening her; the same menacing eyes as of her sister’s finance. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

  Abby leaned forward and whispered, “I am certain that was the day they fell in love."

  It was somewhat comforting that Lady Dohetry’s life turned out for the better. Yet she couldn’t fathom how of her own life could do the same.

  Rachel and Seanna returned, each with a smirk on her face.

  “What is it Rachel?” Abby asked.

  Rachel rubbed her large belly. “After the babe is born, Lady Seanna has promised to instruct me in the art of the sword.”

  Bethany and Abby gasped.

  “These past few days, I have had memories of the events told to me. I do not wish to be defenseless again.”

  Seanna leaned toward her. “Do not forget our agreement. I teach you to use a weapon, but you teach me how to defend myself as you described.”

  Bethany’s mouth dropped open. Of course, each would instruct the other. She couldn’t imagine how either had found a suitor. To find a man to marry, one must be a proper lady, learn to manage a house, be obedient. Yet, neither appeared to be interested in the docility obedience implied.

  A servant entered the room. “I present the Lady Goodwynn and her daughter.”

  Bethany glanced up and recognized the snide women from the shop. Suddenly, she became uncomfortable again. The afternoon would progress as she had initially feared.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jonathan tucked his shirt into his breeches. Mother wanted him looking his best for the ball. He did so only to appease her, lest he hear about it for a year. Social engagements such as these were more of a hindrance than a benefit, especially when he could achieve the same results over supper or a tankard of ale at The Bell—and without his mother opening their purse and incurring needless debt. But this is what she enjoyed, and it wouldn’t be prudent to deny her. Father would surely take her side.

  For that matter, father was difficult to persuade regarding many things, investments and trade in particular. And now it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen his father since the previous afternoon at The Bell. Jonathan wondered what he was up to that would take him away from supper.

  A knock at the door of his bedchambers interrupted his thoughts.

  “Enter,” he called out, fumbling with a leather belt.

  A young scullery maid peeked in through the doorway, clenching her hands against her chest, her head bowed. “My apologies, Lord Butler. Your mother seeks an audience.”

  Jonathan nodded and picked up his doublet. When he turned around, the girl was no longer there. He took three strides out the doorway, but he didn’t see her in the corridor. He took the stairs quickly and found his mother in the parlor.

  Her face lit up when she noticed him. “There you are, Jonathan. I need you to check on that boy and make certain he is dressed appropriately and wearing his shoes.”

  “That boy’s name is Avery.”

  She flicked her hand. “Yes, of course it is. If you could please check on him? Then you must finish dressing. The guests will be arriving shortly.”

  He looked down at his clothing. He would have finished dressing had she not summoned him to do this simple task which any servant in the manor house could have performed. He started toward the door.

  “And, Jonathan.”

  He froze.

  “Goodwynn’s daughter is of age and seeking a suitable husband. It would be a good match.”

  The last thing he wanted right now was marriage. They had just gotten their finances in order and he didn’t want a spendthrift as a wife. Besides, he secretly enjoyed being a bachelor. He could come and go as he pleased and didn’t need to have a woman, other than his mother, question him.

  He shook his head and headed out the front door. Avery stood at the bottom step, hair washed and brushed neatly, clean shirt tucked into breeches, new boots on his feet.

  Avery beamed with pride, then quickly bowed.

  “You look smart, Avery.”

  “Cook says, if a good job be had, I get sweets.”

  Jonathan laughed. “I suspect you will outshine the others. Be sure to eat your reward in moderation, lest you fall asleep with an aching stomach.”

  “I will.” Avery stiffened at the clip-clop of horses approaching.

  Jonathan knew he made the right decision to hire this young boy. He returned to his bedchamber to finish dressing.

  * * *

  If only she could feign illness this evening and let the others attend the ball—but Bethany knew it wasn’t possible. The moment the words left her lips, her father would summon a physic and Seanna would stick to her like a leech, fearful she’d fall sullen once again.

  Bethany didn’t want to be the cause of more looks and whispers. The women she’d first encountered at the shop were pleasant enough at the nuncheon when Bethany or Seanna spoke directly with them. But as more visitors arrived, conversations splintered, and Bethany caught many women giggling while casting looks her way. Seanna didn’t seem to notice though, —she was too busy conspiring with Rachel. This evening would be more of the same, albeit in a more festive setting.

  Seanna entered the room, disrupting her thoughts. “Ruth and I have come up with a most effective way to prepare for the ball. I shall dress in here. While Ruth assists me, I shall assist you.”

  Bethany gave a glint of a smile. “Of course.”

  Ruth followed behind holding a dress of baroque silk dyed Lincoln green, and laid it on the bed. Seanna favored this gown and looked beautiful wea
ring it.

  Seanna glanced around. “Have you not chosen?”

  “I am undecided.” A gown hadn’t been chosen because she didn’t want to attend.

  Ruth opened the cupboard and pulled out Bethany’s gowns. One by one, Ruth held them up while Seanna rated them in staggering detail. Bethany almost regretted not choosing one for herself.

  Ruth lifted a crimson dress Bethany had made especially for this trip.

  Seanna gasped and reached for the gown. “I had forgotten about this one. You must wear this to the ball.”

  Bethany nodded, tipped her head, and smiled. A month ago, the idea of wearing such a beautiful garment to her first ball in Bristol held excitement and bliss. The crimson color would draw attention to her; it was the reason she’d chosen the fabric. Now, a dirty brown sounded more appealing; she could sit by a wall and blend in. But she knew Seanna’s motives, and, of course, Seanna would choose the best gown.

  The long process of dressing began. She slipped on a clean linen chemise. Then Seanna secured a taffeta petticoat, then a stiff farthingale to give her garment shape. Seanna pulled the whalebone corset tight before adding a parlet, a kirtle, then, finally, the crimson gown.

  Seanna tied the sleeves in place. “Bethany, you look simply beautiful. Come. Let us join the others.”

  Slowly, she followed Seanna from the room and down the long staircase. Their father and James quickly stood as they entered the parlor.

  “Lord Maycott, who is this beautiful woman who graces us with her presence? I did not realize you had yet another daughter.” James turned to Seanna. “I have not made your acquaintance, I fear.”

  Seanna smacked James lightly on the arm.

  “I hardly recognized you without your tatters.” He revealed a long, thin box he’d hidden behind his back. “Will you forgive me?”

  “A present?” Seanna took the box from his hands and opened it. From inside the velvet lining, she pulled out a small dagger with a golden, jeweled sheath, and gasped. “It is simply perfect.”

  Bethany stifled a giggle when she caught her father rolling his eyes.

  “Lady Bethany.” James took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You are radiant this eve.”

  “You are generous with your compliment.” Her first impulse was to yank her hand out of his, but she refrained and kept her composure. They were, after all, guests in his home.

  Father touched her arm. “Shall we?”

  Bethany smiled and took her father’s arm. “Yes.”

  She let her father escort her out of the parlor and glanced over her shoulder. Seanna was preoccupied, attempting to attach her gift to the little golden, hooped belt around her waist as James tried to guide her from the room.

  * * *

  Jonathan could hear the musicians playing from his chambers. He purposefully delayed his arrival to participate in the reception line and greet their guests, especially after his mother had revealed her intentions the past few days. Though she did not speak her mind outrightly, he was certain she expected him to choose a future wife this eve.

  Three servants had delivered summons to him within the last hour. Each time, he responded with an excuse and promised to be there momentarily. But he couldn’t bring himself to be subject to such formality. He’d much rather make a quick appearance and disappearance, as he’d done so many times before.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, straightened his doublet, and sighed. It was time. He made his way to the grand staircase—and then made an abrupt halt. By taking the first step, he was accepting his fate, succumbing to his mother’s wishes. Instead, he turned around and found the servants’ passage to the kitchens.

  A servant passed by holding a tray of tiny pastries filled with beef marrow. His stomach growled. He plucked a couple from the tray and felt his hand lightly tapped by the cook.

  Cook waved her finger at him. “Ye knows better, m’ lord.”

  “Mistress Mable, it is difficult resisting your tasty creations.” He winked at her.

  Mable crossed her arms and tried to keep a straight face. She’d worked in the kitchens since he could remember and had always gotten after him for sneaking food.

  Her face finally broke into a smile. “Now, git to da party an keep yer ma happy.”

  He popped the pastries into his mouth and scurried to the doorway. When he looked back, Mable stood, arms still crossed, flicking her hand at him to leave. Jonathan smiled.

  The dining hall brimmed with refreshments on sidelong tables next to the walls. A handful of guests filled small plates and seated themselves at the center table. Servants interspersed, ready to remove dirty plates or offer beverages, or a basin for washing hands.

  His mother had outdone herself again this year: dozens of sparkling chandeliers lit with bee’s wax candles hung from the ceiling. Roses, scabiosas, lilacs, and other assorted flowers from the garden filled the large vases and dangled from trestles. Colorful embroidered silks covered the furniture. Even the servants looked sharp in their matching jackets. Guests were still being announced and his father and mother greeted each one of them. He began to wonder exactly how many invitations his mother had sent out. It appeared the entire city of Bristol and its outlying villages were in attendance.

  He searched for James. If he were to keep an eye on James’s future wife and her sister, he needed to know who they were and obtain a formal introduction. He almost regretted letting his mother’s comments dissuade him from the reception line. What if James decided not to attend? Then he’d have to go so far as to partake in conversation, make inquiries.

  Jonathan surveyed each room quickly enough to keep a guest from stalling him, careful to keep out of his mother’s sight. Suddenly, he heard a voice call out from the entry way, “The Earl Maycott and his daughters, The Lady Bethany Maycott and The Lady Seanna Maycott.”

  Jonathan’s eyes darted toward the doorway. He had no issue spotting them, especially the one in the crimson. She was breathtaking, with light brown hair, big brown eyes, round face and delicate nose. Lilly Thayer and James Bryant were announced next. Mistress Thayer must be their chaperone. He wondered which sister the women in crimson was.

  Now that he knew whom he needed to keep an eye on, he returned to the dining hall to take his fill and ease his grumbling stomach. The women would be fine, at least for a short time. With a small plate of food, he sat down at the table.

  He hadn’t taken three bites when James sat down next to him. “You were missed in the reception line.”

  “I could not abide my mother’s interference in finding me a bride. Surely, she would have pulled aside a dozen and lined them up like a peddler’s wares. Pray tell, of the two Maycott sisters, which is your bride to be?”

  “Lady Seanna. She wears the green gown.”

  Jonathan’s eyes widened. If James’s bride wore the green, then her sister was…he stopped himself. He was not in search of a bride. “I will begin my assignment momentarily.” He motioned to his plate. “But first…”

  James slapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “Eat your fill. Your watch includes my future wife.”

  Jonathan lifted a brow. Surely, the duty he was asked to perform would not be difficult. He placed a piece of cheese into his mouth and watched James walk toward the threshold, when suddenly he stopped, turned, and walked back to Jonathan.

  James pointed toward the kitchen entrance. “I think I will find my way back inside…later.”

  He watched James disappear into the kitchen. From the other room the servant called out, “Lord Alexander Dohetry.”

  Jonathan began to wonder whom he needed to keep an eye on more – Bethany and Seanna, or Alexander and James. Surely, the women would cause less of a scandal.

  * * *

  The moment she was announced, Bethany swore the looks and whispers had begun. She tried to maintain composure, and let her sister find a place for them.

  While Seanna scanned the room, Bethany glanced above the mantel of the fireplace where a rather l
arge portrait of the Lady Butler hung. She tilted her head. Lady Butler looked young and happy. There was a glow about her. It appeared the artist captured the best of Lady Butler. She felt someone touch her elbow.

  Lady Butler whispered in her ear. “It is spectacular, is it not?”

  Bethany nodded her head.

  “This is, by all accounts, the last portrait painted by Anon. You have heard of Anon, have you not?”

  She remembered the conversation with Rachel and Abby. Anon was Rachel’s husband, Lord Dohetry. “Yes, I believe I have.” Because he had been found out, Bethany wondered if Lord Dohetry had stopped painting since he’d married Rachel.

  More guests arrived, and the Lady Butler hurried back to the reception line, promising to return.

  She located her sister a few feet away, standing with Mistress Thayer. With her chin, Seanna motioned toward a couple of empty chairs across the room.

  While they crossed the room, Mistress Thayer stopped and introduced them to the women she knew. The women were fairly good at keeping their emotions in check, but Bethany caught the initial widening of the eyes or the quick shake of the head as they realized who she was. How she had received an invitation to the ball was beyond her.

  As for Seanna—all those years of Bethany’s chastising her sister to act a proper lady had finally paid off. Her sister engaged in proper conversation with ease. At this, Bethany could genuinely smile. Still, it took longer than she’d liked to reach their destination, and by then she was tired of smiling and pretending.

  Bethany took a seat on the hard, oak chair placed against the wall and set her hands gently upon her lap. She couldn’t exactly hide, but this would do nicely for now.

  Seanna whispered in her ear. “Pay them no mind. The stares are meant for me.”

  She glanced up. Two women across the room quickly averted their eyes, then spoke to each other. The old Seanna would not have refrained from charging toward them, blade drawn. Bethany almost giggled at the image. At the same time, she doubted the stares were for Seanna. Seanna was to marry the son of an Earl, or as virtually every person in this room believed James Bryant to be, the nephew of an Earl. She knew James planned to keep his lineage a secret, at least until his father obtained final approval from the Queen. But Earl or nephew of an Earl, James Bryant had made Seanna his fiancée; Bethany, on the other hand, was not so much spoken for as spoken of.