“Oh, miss,” Muriel breathed, face glowing with approval, “you look lovely!”
The creamy-white gown flowed down Leah’s hips, cascading in soft falls of muslin to the floor. Leah looked down, past the demurely square neckline with just a hint of cleavage, past the empire waist to the lace-trimmed hem. Taking a deep breath, which was hard because of the whalebone and lace corset that Lady Chesterfield had insisted she wear instead of the modern Lycra and plastic one she’d brought with her, she smiled at the maid.
“Thank you so much, Muriel. Jamie told me so much about you, and it’s so good to finally meet you.” Leah hugged the girl, who stiffened in shock, but then relaxed into an awkward pat on Leah’s back.
It was just so great to be out of the hell of servants’
quarters that Leah kept hugging Muriel anyway.
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self-conscious smoothing of her apron. “Now, Lady Chesterfield wishes for you to present yourself down-stairs. Her sister, Miss Stapleton, will be joining you for tea.”
“Great,” Leah said. It’d be nice to meet Lady Chesterfield’s family if they were as great as she was. From the moment, Leah had stepped into the house, she’d felt like an honored guest. It was a wonderful change from scrubbing fireplaces and emptying chamber pots.
Muriel led Leah down the hallway toward the stairs.
As she passed family portraits, smaller than those in the duke’s home but no less impressive, she wondered about Avery. She’d overheard Mrs. Harper talking about the duke’s journey. Had Avery gone with him? It would be so much easier if she could just send him a quick text to check on him. Sighing to herself, she descended the stairs and entered the drawing room. She’d spent the last few days convincing herself Avery’s kiss was a fluke. She had a different destiny to chase…and Avery’s broad shoulders and warm hands weren’t part of it.
“Ah, here she is.” Lady Chesterfield rose in a flurry of rose-colored lace and feathers. Leah was beginning to wonder about all the poor little birds that were running around in the buff because of her patroness.
“Dearest Leah, this is Miss Alexandra Stapleton, my eldest sister.” Lady Chesterfield gestured to a woman dressed all in drab brown, who rose with a sour expression.
Leah bobbed a curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
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employment. You cannot present her into society. It would mean your ruination.”
“Oh, rubbish.” Lady Chesterfield plopped down on the cushions. Leah followed, grimacing inwardly while maintaining her polite smile.
“She is a quick study and infinitely clever. She shall take the ton by storm, you mark my words. And none shall doubt her origin once we’ve spread the tale of her relation to my dear Chesterfield.” Lady Chesterfield fluffed her feathered collar.
Leah toed a discarded fluff beneath the coffee table, wishing she were a thousand miles— or a hundred fifty years— away. What if she failed? What if everyone found out that only last week she was nothing more than a dishwashing dust-clad domestic? She stiffened her spine and laced her fingers together in her lap primly.
Miss Stapleton sniffed. “How can a mere servant, with no position or breeding, possibly masquerade as one of her betters?”
Whoa, nobody discredited Leah’s acting skill. If they wanted to disparage the way she dressed? Fine. The extra weight she’d picked up after the shit with Kevin?
Fair game. But her passion for acting was sacrosanct, and she’d be damned if she let a comment like that go without a fight.
“Alexandra, you must give Miss Ramsey a chance to prove herself. She is, well…” Lady Chesterfield took a sip of tea. “She is from a land much more advanced than ours. Also, she is an experienced actress.”
“An actress!”
Lady Chesterfield could have said Leah had shoveled shit for a living and gotten a less horrified response than that.
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Miss Stapleton splayed a hand across her nonexistent breasts. “Amelia, how could you sully your home with a woman of her stamp?”