Murder at Morrington Hall by Clara McKenna

Author:Clara McKenna
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2019-03-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Stella leaned forward and glanced in the dressing-table mirror, the carved tiger maple framing her face. Normally, her skin looked pale against the ivory lace of her gown, but now splotches of pink colored her cheeks. What was she last thinking of? Not the death of the vicar, the theft of Orson, the arrest of the footman, the rush of Epsom and her audience with the king, not even the strangers gathering below. So much had happened in such a short time. She covered her cheeks with her hands as she blushed again, remembering what she had been thinking about—Lyndy’s kiss.

What if she did marry Lyndy? Would she ever be anything but “the American”? Would she and her “strange ways” be merely tolerated by the Searlwyns, as it seemed she had always been by Daddy? Or was there hope? Lyndy seemed different, almost kind at times. The softness of Lyndy’s lips, the firm hold of his arms. She blushed again. And yet the arrogance, the impudence. . .

“What do you think, miss?” Ethel, Stella’s maid said, placing a string of pearls around her neck. Stella, wrapped up in her thoughts, started at the sound of the maid’s voice.

“I think I’ve decided not to go down.”

Lady Atherly had made good on her promise to hold a small gathering of friends and neighbors eager to meet and gawk at “the American.” Stella had never fared well at society events back home. That garden party at the Vanderbilts’ in Newport, that ball at the Astors’ in New York . . . She could envision the blunders, the comments, the disaster that awaited her downstairs. They expected her to smile and nod and make small talk about the weather. They might ask her to sing or play the piano. How disenchanted they would be. She’d meant her comment to be a joke, but maybe she’d stay upstairs, after all.

“But everyone will be so disappointed, miss. You being called delightful by His Majesty, and all.” Ethel pinned a few loose wisps of hair, then stepped back to check her work.

As the maid placed a comb, a swirl of tortoiseshell and pearls, in Stella’s hair, Stella smiled. The comb perfectly matched the hand-embroidered silk charmeuse dress Stella wore for tonight’s soiree. The maid was a natural. She was also friendly and kind and, dare Stella hope, a confidante? Stella could certainly use one right now.

Daddy hadn’t allowed Stella to bring Decker, her lady’s maid from home, with her. On the journey to England, she and Aunt Rachel had had to cope with each other’s help. Stella hadn’t minded. Daddy had hired Decker, and the woman had never been friendly, muttering as she wrangled with Stella’s thick hair. But here, Lady Atherly had insisted Stella find a proper English lady’s maid. Ethel, a housemaid, had been assigned the task temporarily. Stella liked Ethel: she was gentle, had a kind face, and seemed eager to please. The maid had a knack for doing Stella’s hair. If it were up to Stella, she’d let Ethel stay on permanently as her lady’s maid.

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