Honor's Players - By Holly Newman Page 0,26
your size right. Regardless, they should do until your baggage arrives in two or three days.”
Elizabeth had blushed when he turned to her, but at the last her eyes flew open again and her face drained of color. How dare he? How dare he treat her like a common trollop! Elizabeth started to open her mouth to issue a scathing remark when Mrs. Atheridge, standing in the doorway sourly watching them, broke in: “Well, come then, I ain’t got all day.” She turned to leave the room.
Elizabeth was torn in her course of action. She didn’t like the housekeeper and didn’t care for her insolent tongue, but she also was loath to stay with the Viscount. After biting her lower lip in frustration, she tossed her head and with a swish of skirts followed Mrs. Atheridge out of the room and up the stairs, forcing herself to block out the sound of the Viscount’s laughter.
The bedroom Mrs. Atheridge conducted her to was cold, yet appeared cleaner than other parts of the house. Still, the room bore a musty smell and the furniture a film of grime. That it was the master bedroom there could be no doubt by the look of the large canopied bed set on a raised dais. The head of the bed was on the same wall as the entrance door. The far wall was all curved windows with two doors leading out onto a narrow terrace. Looking out into the gloom beyond the terrace, she noted the tangled mess of the park below. Both side walls had doors leading, Elizabeth supposed, to dressing rooms for herself and St. Ryne. The room was hung with blue drapes and lighter blue wallpaper, scorched and discolored here and there. It had probably at one time been an attractive room.
She prowled the room restlessly as Mrs. Atheridge struggled to light a fire. She breathed a sigh of relief when she noted the chimney drawing cleanly. Mrs. Atheridge placed a pot of hot water on a hook in the fireplace and bowed her way out.
The warmth of the fire drew Elizabeth to it. She basked in its comforting glow a moment until with a start she realized she needed to change. After the morning episode, she did not dare speculate as to what the insane man below would do if she failed to change this time. Rip her dress from her body? Elizabeth blushed at the thought though there was an odd warmth surging through her that had nothing to do with the heat from the flames.
The first door she tried led to what was obviously St. Ryne’s dressing room. Elizabeth was surprised to see a narrow bed in the room but supposed it to have been used by those tending the house’s previous owner. She shut the door quickly, half afraid St. Ryne would enter and find her standing in the doorway. The second door gave on to her dressing room, or so she surmised on seeing her portmanteau standing by a large wardrobe. With a grimace she approached the cupboard, wondering what flights of fancy the clothing he chose would be. She imagined the low-cut gaudy gowns she had seen on courtesans at the theater and in the parks. Flinging open the doors, she braced herself for the peacock array.
Her jaw dropped in astonishment at the clothing that met her eyes. The peacock looked more like a pigeon. Dresses there were in the wardrobe—new ones too—but where Elizabeth had envisioned flashy reds with daring necklines hung gray, mauve, and dun-colored dresses. New, yes, but simple in design, almost austere. Dresses suited to a paid companion or governess. Elizabeth shook her head in bewilderment. Examining each carefully, she owned they did look her size, but not one of them could be described as anything other than plain and serviceable.
She pulled out a wool mauve gown. It was trimmed at collar and cuffs with a narrow banding of lace. It appeared to be the most decorative of the dresses. A smile curled her lips as she contemplated it while her trembling fingers worked to loosen the gown she wore. Donning the mauve dress, she walked over to the long looking glass in the corner of the room. Smiling still she pulled her hair severely away from her face and observed the look. Pleased, she whirled back to her portmanteau, tossing about the room the few items she had managed to stuff in on short notice. Deep inside she found a packet