*
The day was well started when Lydia opened her eyes and groaned. She ached all over, no exaggeration, no melodrama. Lydia truly did ache all over.
“Good morning, miss. I’ve been nursing a bath for you to step into as soon as yer wantin’ it.”
Lydia lifted her head and blinked at the person with the unnecessarily cheerful tone. “Pardon?” she said with intelligence.
Glancing around, she took in what her tired eyes had bypassed the night before. She was ensconced in a comfortable room, cozy despite its generous size. The color palette was a restful shade of green, accented with creams in furnishings and crisp white bed linens. Or rather, the bed linens were white—they were now also painted with various blobs and smears, exactly the same hue as dirt, blood, and grass. Lydia cringed and hoped the stains could be boiled away.
“A bath, miss? Or I can bring you some breakfast first, if you prefer.”
“No, a bath would be lovely. Thank you…?”
“Jill, miss. And I brought you a gown from Mrs. Dunbar-Ross. It come from Paris—that’s in France, you know. Shame you fell off your horse and ruined your own lovely gown … and then a wine stain … and being as how you decided to stay over with no plan to do so, previouslike,” the cheery Jill continued in a rush. “You didn’t have a change of clothes. Just one of those things, miss. Just one of those things,” she repeated.
Lydia smiled, recognizing the tale that would now be bandied about as the truth about her visit in Pepney. She fought to sit up and, after having done so, was surprised that it did not make matters worse—though neither did it make matters better. The aches would likely accompany her everywhere for a day or two.
After the long bath, which involved a great deal of scrubbing, Lydia enjoyed a welcome breakfast and finally felt ready to face the morning. Jill helped her don the Paris gown, fastening the delicate buttons down the back while Lydia stood before the full-length mirror. Staring with surprise—the pleasant kind—Lydia wondered at the style and fit of the pale lilac dress. The waist was a little lower than she was used to, the sleeves smocked delicately to the elbows, and the skirts gathered into an artful pleat on each hip. More of an afternoon dress than a day dress, the style was elegant and inspired, but most important: it fit like a glove.
This was as great a wonder as any, for Shelley and she were not of a size. Lydia was decidedly taller and had expected to be showing an uncomfortable amount of ankle in a borrowed gown. But, no … she turned to the side to take in the full effect. No, the length was perfect. She wondered what Robert would think about the transformation—from vagabond to lady. Would he notice how well the color set off her eyes?
“Don’t you look comely, miss. Mrs. Dunbar-Ross knew what she was about.”
“Yes, well, umm. Thank you.” Lydia straightened, embarrassed about being caught preening. “My other clothes, is there anything salvageable among them?”
“’Fraid not, miss. They was quite done for.”
Lydia nodded but sighed inwardly. She had quite liked that spencer; it had matched the ribbon on her bonnet.… Oh, yes, the bonnet was gone, too. Well, it hardly mattered, after all.
When presentable, Lydia found her way to the ground floor in search of her friends, especially her newest friend. There was no doubt that her attachment to her lawyer’s clerk was the product of a shared experience, a shared nerve-racking experience. Relying on each other had brought them closer than would ever be expected on such a short acquaintance, but rather than feel a sense of discomfort, Lydia was … well, excited—in a calm, dignified way, of course—with the thought of seeing Robert.
It came as a bit of a shock to find Shelley and Cora alone in the dining room enjoying their luncheon. The sun had already reached its zenith and was now on its way across the western half of the sky.
“Why did you not wake me?” Lydia asked as she approached the table and then blinked in amazement.
Cora, too, was dressed in more elegance than was required at this time of day. Her gown was a subtle shade of blue silk accented with sapphire trimmings. The style and fit were excessively flattering. Cora had a fuller figure than Shelley, and the bodice of a borrowed gown should have been challenging the seams. But it wasn’t.
Lydia grinned, realizing the answer. Shelley had thought of her friends while she was on her wedding trip. She had bought these beautiful dresses specifically for them in Paris.
“Might it have something to do with your arrival last night in a completely exhausted state?” Shelley replied. “Let me see, oh, yes, wasn’t there something about an unexpected visit to a farm?”
“No, I don’t believe so. I spent the day in Bath, didn’t I? And then joined you for an exemplary meal last eve. Though I must ask, how did I fall from my horse when I was seated inside a carriage?”
“Whatever do you mean, Lydia dear? Are you forgetting that you left your carriage in Bath and rented a horse by the name of Fanny?”
“I exchanged a comfortable, though small, coach for a bay mare?”
“Yes, indeed, you wanted a breath of fresh air … and your solicitor’s clerk felt an unquenchable need for exercise. He walked beside you—you and Cora … on the mare.”
Lydia laughed, thankful that the whole was over. Well, not entirely. They still had to catch the culprits and see justice done—but at least she need not be concerned about ruination.
Pulling out a chair across from Cora, Lydia waved away the offer of food from Trenton. She had only just finished her morning repast. “Speaking of my solicitor’s clerk, where might Mr. Newton be?” Her question was met with an exchange of glances between Cora and Shelley, grins, and a vast amount of silence.
“Now, girls. Don’t start.”
“You seemed quite taken with Mr. Newton, Lydia.” Shelley stated in a deliberately casual tone. Cora watched with what seemed to be excessive interest, absentmindedly nibbling on her baked sole.
“Naturally.”
“Yes, naturally, as he is a handsome young man who has heroic tendencies … and thinks very highly of you.”
“No. I meant, naturally I am taken with a person with whom I spent a great deal of company while evading danger. I would be taken with an ancient mariner or bedraggled hag in like circumstances.”
Cora and Shelley exchanged glances yet again. “What do you think?” Cora asked Shelley. “It sounds like humbug to me.”
Shelley nodded. “I think a bedraggled hag might not have warranted this much interest.”