mirror and shook her head. “Daniel Callan and I are going to be married.”
“Married! How wonderful. Oh, we must tell Cecilia.” Beatrice hurried from the bedchamber into the sitting room where Cecilia was in front of a mirror fiddling with the curls that framed her face.
“Ceci! Darwell and Lord Jess’s valet are going to be married!”
Beatrice turned back to Darwell, who had followed her into the sitting room. Her expression was not what one would expect from a woman who had announced her engagement.
“Oh, that is wonderful news. The best.”
“I hope so, Miss Cecilia. It is not impulsive. We have known each other forever. I suppose as we grow older and see an end to our years of service it’s right to turn to each other for comfort in our later years.”
For the love of God, Beatrice thought, that sounds far more practical than romantic. She looked at Cecilia, who nodded.
“Do you love him, Darwell?” Cecilia asked, going straight to the point.
“What is love, Miss Cecilia? I think he is kind and patient. I have seen him care for men who are not worth half of what he is, if one is speaking of honor and honesty. We understand that the ton is made up of the same sort of people who are in all levels of society.”
It sounded to Beatrice as though Darwell had learned the same lessons that the marquis had: that the ton were like everyone else, just better dressed. Which only proved the point.
Darwell looked from one to the other. “And my world is much brighter when he is near. I can talk to him about every little thing. He listens to me, and that is a wonderful and rare thing in a man.”
“Darwell, that sounds like love to us,” Cecilia said as Beatrice nodded agreement.
“We are thinking that we will leave service and move to a city like Birmingham or Manchester where we can open a shop to assist men and women who wish to move up in society.”
“Like us!” Cecilia said.
“I mean no offense, miss.”
“Of course not. The countess knew we needed advice and you are the best.”
“How kind of you, but it does leave you without a maid for the Season.”
“Oh dear. You cannot wait a year or so?” Cecilia asked, sounding as if she already knew the answer.
“Miss, we are both approaching fifty years of age. You will understand when you are older. We feel there is no time to waste.”
“Then we will see you are established quickly, in Birmingham of course, and Ceci and I will be your first customers.”
“Thank you, Miss Beatrice. I was worried you would be more upset.”
“Oh, I am,” Cecilia assured her, with a self-deprecating smile that made Beatrice laugh.
“Sometimes you are too direct, Ceci.” She took Darwell’s hand and led her to the door. “Go tell your man, one who actually listens to you, that you have broken the news to us and we are happy for both of you.”
“Thank you, miss. Both of you.” Darwell left the room, but not before Beatrice saw her eyes fill with tears.
Beatrice turned to her sister. “You are not to start worrying about this. I have complete faith that the countess will find us another excellent lady’s maid before we go to London.”
“Hmmm” was the best that Cecilia could manage.
“Do you recall Mama saying that a husband who listens is the greatest gift a wife can receive?”
“Oh yes,” Cecilia said. “It would come up whenever Papa forgot a dinner invitation or asked Mama something she insisted she had told him a hundred times.”
“Do you remember how delighted she was that one time Papa actually took her advice? I don’t even know what the idea was but she was happy for days and when I asked her why she was in such good spirits her answer was, ‘Because he listened to me, really listened.’ ”
They stood together looking out the window. “I still miss her. Especially now.” Beatrice could not help but think that Mama would tell her the best way to go on, to deal with men like Lord Jess, to help Cecilia enjoy herself.
“I know you miss her. We all do.”
“Do you think having children, twins, weakened her so much that she died sooner?” It had taken her a whole year to ask that question, one that had haunted her from the day of Mama’s death.
“Oh no, Bitsy, I do not.” She squeezed her hand.
“How can you be so sure?” Beatrice wanted it so desperately to be true.