One Enchanted Evening (Marriage by Fairytale Book 2) Page 3

  “Just because that’s your station, it doesn’t mean you can’t take an evening off to enjoy yourself. You’re my friend. It’d be nice if we could both have a good time.”

  Marcy tried to think of how to answer as she secured the end of the braid. She couldn’t come right out and tell Patricia that she didn’t deserve to spend an evening having a good time. That would lead to some unpleasant questions, and Marcy didn’t want Patricia to think less of her.

  After Marcy left her old life, she didn’t think she’d ever have another friend. And yet, here she was with Patricia. Patricia had welcomed her into her life, and some of the loneliness Marcy had experienced had lifted. It was more than she could have ever asked for. And it was certainly more than she deserved. She didn’t dare push her luck by playing the part of a noblewoman.

  Since Patricia turned to look expectantly at her, Marcy finally said, “The purpose of the ball is for Lord Pruett to find a wealthy wife.”

  “That is the main purpose,” Patricia allowed, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t go and have fun. Just tell me what kind of gown and mask you’ll wear so I’ll know it’s you. I promise I won’t mention your name. No one needs to find out.”

  Again, Marcy wasn’t sure how to reply. Even if she dared to have an evening at a ball, she’d have to watch ladies dancing and talking to Lewis. She wasn’t sure she could stomach it. It wasn’t going to be easy watching him with the lady he married. Already, she was dreading it. Her plan was to be too busy with Susanna to spend any time around him or the lady. And if Patricia required something, she’d be as quick as possible so she didn’t have to see them.

  “What’s wrong, Marcy?” Patricia asked.

  Blinking her thoughts away, Marcy forced out, “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”

  “Lewis said you were up early. He said he couldn’t sleep and went down to the drawing room where you were cleaning.” Patricia focused on her. “I think something is troubling you.”

  Feeling uneasy, Marcy went to the armoire and pulled out a clean chemise for Patricia to sleep in. “It’s nothing that matters.” She hung the chemise on the hook by the mirror then motioned for Patricia to stand up. “I’ll help you undress.”

  Unfortunately, Patricia wasn’t going to let her get away with it. “Marcy, we’re friends. If you can confide in anyone, it should be me. I don’t speak a word of our conversations to anyone else. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course, I do. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” Marcy had wished she’d had the same kind of gentleness and kindness that came so easily to Patricia. But she wasn’t anything like her. The two were like night and day.

  “Then why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “Because…because…” After a moment of struggling to find the right words, she said, “Because it’s something you can’t help me with.”

  “That’s silly. How can you know that if you don’t tell me what it is?”

  “I know it because I’m a maid, and there are certain things a maid doesn’t do.”

  “Are you talking about going to the ball?”

  “No, I’m talking about Lord Pruett.” As soon as she blurted those words out, she wished she could take them back.

  “Lewis?” Patricia seemed confused for a moment, but then understanding lit up her eyes. “Oh! You fancy him.”

  Heat rose up in her cheeks. “He’s a titled gentleman. I’m a maid. It’d never work.”

  “Why not? I was a laundress before I married Lewis’ brother.”

  “That was a different situation. His brother was a recluse who never went to London. The only way he was going to get a wife was with the arrangement you two made. Lord Pruett will be at a ball surrounded by lots of ladies.” Lots of beautiful, charming, rich ladies. “He doesn’t need to marry a maid. Especially not when he needs money.”

  “First, you might as well call him Lewis when it’s just the two of us. Every time I hear ‘Lord Pruett’, I think of my first husband. And second, I know he says he needs to marry a wealthy lady, but money isn’t everything.”

  “It is to titled gentlemen who have their estates to protect.”

  “But Stephen’s good with money. He manages his investments very well. Lewis would be in a much better position right now if he hadn’t been reckless with his money. Hopefully, Lewis has learned to take Stephen’s advice.”

  Marcy wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She shouldn’t have said anything. She hadn’t intended to ever tell anyone her secret infatuation with Lewis. She shouldn’t even think of him as Lewis. Doing so was much too personal, and yet, she couldn’t seem to help it.

  Patricia got up from the chair and faced her. “Why do you hesitate to go to the ball and talk to him? You’re such a nice person. I think you two would make a splendid match.”

  “No, no we wouldn’t.” Marcy gestured to her evening gown. “I’ll help you out of this now.”

  Before Marcy could bend down to lift the gown, Patricia stopped her. “Lewis took me to marry his brother even though I had no money or impressive family connections. He never once thought less of me because of those things. Surely, if you two were to meet at the ball and talk—have a long and good talk—then he would realize how good you’d be for him.”

  Marcy really wished Patricia wouldn’t talk like this. She was talking as if Lewis could ever love her, and that was harder to take than knowing she didn’t deserve him. She swallowed the lump in her throat. What was she supposed to tell her? The truth? She couldn’t explain why she had no right to be with Lewis. Some sins ran too deep. Light had no communion with darkness.

  “At least think about it,” Patricia said. “You’ll never know what will happen if you don’t go.” When Marcy didn’t reply, she sighed. “All right. You may help me undress.”

  Lowering her gaze so that Patricia wouldn’t see her tears, Marcy lifted the hem of her gown and helped her out of it. When Patricia was in her chemise for the night, Marcy brought Susanna to her. It was Patricia’s habit to rock the girl to sleep for the night.

  “If you need anything else, ring for me,” Marcy said.

  “I’m sure I won’t, but I will if I do.”

  Marcy wished Patricia pleasant dreams and went to her room. She opened her journal and made another mark for the day. 1,929. She closed the book then stared at the wall for a long time before she finally went to sleep.

  ***

  Exhausted, Lewis trudged up the steps of his townhouse. It was a good thing his father had purchased it. If he hadn’t, Lewis would probably be forced to stay in the country estate. He went into the vacant townhouse. He took a deep breath and released it. He needed a wife, and he needed one soon.

  He decided to do without dinner and went straight to his bedchamber, feeling as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. It was hard to mingle with gentlemen when the goal was to make money. He’d much rather play games and enjoy himself. But he had spent the day listening to a couple of gentlemen discuss investments. While he understood things like profits and losses, the rest of the terms they threw at him made very little sense.

  Stephen made it seem so easy. He understood the terms. He not only understood them, but he managed to make a good amount of money from it. Lewis played messenger between Stephen and those gentlemen. He would deliver the missives Stephen wrote to the gentlemen, the gentlemen would do what Stephen wanted, and when the money came in, Lewis would collect it and take it to Stephen.

  Lewis had taken the time to read over some of the missives, and they were just as confusing as when the gentlemen talked to him. In the past, he’d managed to make a profit simply by taking some of the allowance his brother granted him and telling the gentlemen to do the same thing with it that they did with Stephen’s money. His mistake—his horrible mistake—was in doing something different. He should have known his instincts were bad when it came to investing. He didn’t have the same knack for this that Stephen did.

  Too
tired to undress, he collapsed on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. All of his life, he had assumed his family had enough money to see him through his entire life. He had no idea how much his brother had hidden from him in an effort to protect him from the truth.

  Or perhaps it’d been pride that had prevented his brother from warning him about it. His brother hadn’t expected to die without an heir. The heir would have taken over the estate, and the heir would have had to take measures to save it. His brother hadn’t intended for Lewis to ever find out.

  Lewis rubbed his eyes. He had no choice. He had to get married if he wanted money fast. After this experience, he was going to take the money his wife brought into the marriage and invest it exactly the same way that Stephen did. Then he would never lose everything ever again.

  He closed his eyes and released his breath. He was going to have to go to the ball in search of a bride. He had no other choice. The sooner he came to grips with that realization, the better. He wasn’t sure how a wife was going to change things. He could only hope his instincts were better at picking one out than they were when it came to picking his own investments.

  As much as he tried not to worry about his ability to choose a good wife, he couldn’t help it. And he didn’t fall asleep until it was well past midnight.

  Chapter Four

  It was Wednesday afternoon when Patricia brought Marcy a mask. Marcy, who’d been placing Patricia’s clean gowns in the armoire, didn’t hide her surprise as she accepted the white mask with gold trim.

  “What is this?” Marcy asked.

  “It’s your mask for the ball,” Patricia replied, looking very pleased with herself. “I made it to match the gown I’m going to lend you. We’re about the same size. I think you’d fit it.”

  “You made this mask just for me?”

  “I couldn’t resist. Please don’t be upset. It’s just that we are such good friends, and I want what’s best for you. Lewis is a good gentleman. You two would be perfect together. Two sweet and wonderful people should spend their lives with each other. It’s only right.”

  Marcy shook her head. “I have no money. And even if I did, I’m a maid.”

  “I know all of that, but sometimes a person who is outside a situation can see things clearly. Lewis doesn’t really want money. I know that’s what he thinks he wants, but he really wants a lady who will complete him. He’s too proud to say anything, but he’s lonely. Money is a poor substitute for love.”

  “This is kind of you. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. But…” How could she explain it in a way that wouldn’t reveal just how terrible the match would be?

  “I know what’s bothering you. You’re afraid. But you can’t let fear hold you back. You only have one life to live, Marcy. Do you really want to be my lady’s maid for the rest of it?”

  “Have I ever given you a reason to think I’m not content to be your lady’s maid?”

  “No. Just the opposite. You’ve always been very kind to me. That’s why I want to see you happy with Lewis.” When Marcy didn’t reply, she added, “What have you got to lose? Go to the ball. Talk to Lewis. Have a dance with him. If it turns out that he’s not interested, you can go back to being my lady’s maid.”

  Marcy released her breath. What could she say to that? She could tell Patricia the truth, but she didn’t want Patricia to know the truth. Patricia wouldn’t like her if she knew the truth. The ball was on Saturday. She only had three more days of Patricia telling her to go to the ball. When she didn’t go and Sunday came, Patricia would stop talking about it. Then they could go back to normal because, by then, Lewis would have picked his future wife.

  “Thank you,” Marcy finally told her, deciding not to promise to go to the ball. If she promised that, then she’d be lying because she had no intention of showing up. But by simply thanking her, she wasn’t lying.

  Patricia clapped her hands in excitement then turned her attention to Susanna.

  Marcy looked at the mask. It was nice of Patricia to make it for her. The mask was pretty. It would go with any gown. Marcy swallowed the lump in her throat and set the mask aside so she could finish putting Patricia’s clothes away.

  When she was done, she left Patricia alone and went downstairs to put the mask in her room. Then she went to the kitchen to see if any of the other servants needed help. Now that Susanna was older, Patricia didn’t need her help so much during the day. She could have used the free time for herself, she supposed, but she liked to keep busy. Keeping busy meant she didn’t have to dwell on the past. It kept her focused on the future.

  As it turned out, the butler wasn’t feeling well, so he asked if she would be willing to serve tea and biscuits to Mr. Bachman and his guest. At first, Marcy thought the guest might be Lewis, and her heart leapt with excitement at the thought of seeing him. But when she reached the drawing room, she saw that it was the vicar who had decided to visit.

  Pushing aside her disappointment, she carried the refreshments to the two gentlemen.

  “Where’s the butler?” Mr. Bachman asked her.

  “He wasn’t feeling well, so he asked if I would bring these in,” she replied. “Would you like me to pour tea into the cups?”

  Since he nodded, she did as instructed, suddenly realizing there were three cups. Perhaps Patricia intended to come down.

  “Maybe it’s not typical for a vicar to come by and see how a couple he married is doing, but I couldn’t help but wonder how you and your wife are faring,” the vicar told Mr. Bachman.

  “We’re doing very well,” Mr. Bachman replied. “She had a girl.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes. We named the girl Susanna. She’s a good-natured baby, too. I don’t think many are as quiet as she is.” As Marcy handed him his cup, he added, “Marcy here helps my wife. Marcy’s not only her lady’s maid, but she’s her friend as well.”

  The vicar smiled at her as she gave him another cup. “That’s nice. So everything is going well.” His gaze went back to Mr. Bachman. “Just as you said.”

  “It is. I’m a fortunate gentleman.”

  Marcy poured tea into the third cup then left the drawing room.

  A knock at the front door caught her attention. Since the footman was nowhere in sight, she decided to answer it. To her surprise, and selfish delight, Lewis stood right in front of her.

  She cleared her throat and curtsied. “Good afternoon, my lord.” She stepped aside and let him cross the threshold. “Mr. Bachman and Vicar Roskin are here,” she continued as he removed his hat.

  His eyes widened, and he took a couple of steps back over the threshold so that he was outside the manor. “Is there a single lady with them?” he whispered.

  Noting the apprehension in his expression, she hurried to assure him, “No. It’s just the two of them.”

  He shot an uncertain look into the entryway. “Mr. Bachman is expecting me.” He paused then turned those wonderful eyes back to her. “Do you know if he’s also expecting a lady to come by?”

  “I haven’t heard anything about a lady coming by.” To be fair, she hadn’t realized he was coming, either. It wasn’t her business. She might be Patricia’s friend, but she was also a maid. She wasn’t privy to who was coming or going. But, since he seemed worried, she added, “Mr. and Mrs. Bachman have been busy planning for the ball. I don’t think the vicar is here to marry anyone.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back into the entryway. “This whole thing is coming up too fast. I’m not ready for it.”

  She offered him a smile she hoped would ease his nerves. “I’m sure everything will be fine. There will be lots of people there. Mrs. Bachman said at least a hundred will be in attendance. If you have trouble talking to one person, all you need to do is excuse yourself and find someone else to talk to.” She shut the door. “The gentlemen are in the drawing room. Would you like me to lead you there?”

  He glanced at the hall that would take him to the drawing room but didn’t make a move towar
d it. Instead, he shifted from one foot to another and then turned his attention back to her.

  “Can I ask you something that you’ll probably think is ridiculous?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  She couldn’t imagine that he’d say anything ridiculous. At least, it wouldn’t be anything she’d find ridiculous. He could tell her he had the ability to fly back to London, and she’d think it was wonderful simply because he had said it.

  “I’m sure whatever you have to ask isn’t ridiculous,” she said.

  “That’s very nice of you to say, but it is.” He glanced around again, an action which let her know just how nervous he really was. He took a deep breath, released it, and then focused on her. “All right. Here it is. What is the best way to talk to a lady at a ball? I mean, more than the common pleasantries of ‘how do you do’ or ‘may I have this dance’. What kinds of things do ladies want gentlemen to tell them?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  “Is it?”

  She nodded. It was a very good question. She’d often imagined what she’d say to him if they ever sat down and had a conversation, and for the life of her, she could never figure out what he’d like to talk about.

  “I think everyone worries about what they can say to someone they wish to establish a romantic relationship with,” she said.

  “Yes, it is. I can say anything that’s on my mind to Mrs. Bachman, but she’s always been like a sister to me. There’s never once been a romantic thought between us. But this Saturday, I’m going to have to talk to many ladies, and any one of them could be my future wife. Mr. and Mrs. Bachman think the masks will make it easier for me to talk to them, but I don’t think they’re right. As we get closer to the ball, I notice that I’m getting more and more nervous. I’m afraid I’ll end up looking like a fool.”

  The poor man. He had no idea how attractive, or how incredibly sweet, he was. Everything in her wanted to ask him to pick her. But it would be wrong. He deserved someone as good as he was.