“The gentlemen are awaiting your presence in the drawing room, ladies.” Payne shared a pointed look with Minerva. “I believe there is someone there who His Lordship is eager for you all to meet.”
She had liked the wily old butler the moment she met him, and since the second they had arrived at Standish House, he had been an absolute godsend. He helped her navigate this enormous and confusing house while preparing her for whatever lesson Hugh and Lord Bellingham were intent on teaching her, and he had an uncanny knack of being close by at times when the correct etiquette was beyond her, subtly giving her cues and then blending into the background. For some reason she wasn’t going to question, Payne wanted her to succeed. Thanks to him, she was able to paste on the façade of confidence. Enough to give her siblings confidence in what she had dragged them into, too.
Payne seemed to have a particular talent for appeasing Diana, who had almost entirely behaved herself for five whole days since the embarrassing setdown she had given Hugh upon catching them innocently holding hands—not that it had felt particularly innocent at the time. It had felt … worryingly delightful. And while she did her best to glue herself to Minerva’s side, Diana also took the lessons seriously and was taking it all in stride.
Vee, on the other hand, was a worry to both of them. She had not settled well into the grandeur of Hugh’s house nor was she coping with the new demands made upon her to become a Landridge. But she was only seventeen. Barely. Seventeen was such a difficult age. Neither a child nor a woman, yet struggling to be independent and to have her voice heard.
“Do you need some time, Miss Minerva, to prepare your sisters?”
Clearly Payne knew she hadn’t broached the subject of their fake mother yet. She hadn’t dared. “Yes, please, Payne. Tell His Lordship we will be with them shortly.”
Alone in the enormous dining room, Minerva took a deep breath and smiled brightly. “I think we are all doing brilliantly. Isn’t this fun?”
“It beats real work.” Diana’s fingers unconsciously touched the lace on the cuff of her new blue day dress. A dress she had been thoroughly overwhelmed by this morning when the first batch of their pretend wardrobe had arrived fresh from the modiste. Wool, in deference to the season, but of a gauge so fine and soft it might as well have been linen in the way it fell in soft folds to the floor. Like Minerva’s boldly striped confection, Diana’s snugly fitted bodice bore a scooped neckline, which did wonders for their figures. Vee’s was similar, in a gentle pastel color, but high necked. The new spectacles perched on her nose were much more becoming than the ugly ones Minerva had struggled to pay for. “The grass apparently is greener and the food is to die for.”
“I don’t care about the stupid grass! We don’t belong here. I’d rather be home.” Vee had uttered the same thing since the first night.
“We’ll be home soon, darling … a few weeks at most … but we’ll be returning significantly richer than we’ve ever been. Just think of all the books you’ll be able to buy?”
“I suppose…”
“There is no ‘suppose’ about it! In the meantime, I am thoroughly enjoying being someone else for a change. This reminds me of the little shows we used to put on for Papa. Do you remember?”
“I suppose it does.” Vee’s expression brightened. Any mention of the past always cheered her, not that their selfish father had ever watched one for longer than five minutes before disappearing again to drink at the Dog and Duck or play cards somewhere—or spend the night with whatever light-skirted woman he happened to be sniffing around at the time.
“You were always so good in those. I’d make masks out of paper and Diana would always manage to drape the sheets to look like whatever costume we needed and we’d rehearse for hours. Just like we are now. Except now we have all the props and scenery, and guess what—there will be more characters.”
“There will? Who?”
“Because Hugh’s Minerva has a mother, he’s hired a genuine actress to play her.” Something she had only confided thus far to Diana, knowing Vee wouldn’t cope well with too much at once. “Isn’t that fun?”
“I take it that is who we are meeting now?” Diana, for once, beamed at Vee, trying her best to support Minerva. “How exciting! I wonder what she’ll be like?”
“I don’t want to meet her.” Her younger sister’s face was appalled. “We had a mother. She died. Calling anyone else ‘Mama’ would be disrespectful to her memory.”
Not that Vee had any true memories of the real woman. She had been two when their mother had died. Minerva had been barely nine, so even her memories had faded over time. She could just remember their mother’s face but not her voice, odd recollections recalled in stark relief, but so many were hazy because she had lived more years without her now than with. She remembered a fragile woman worn down by life. One who cried a great deal and bickered constantly with her husband. One who claimed to have been a gentleman’s daughter, too.
“It’s just pretend, Vee … not at all disrespectful. She is the fictional Miss Venus Landridge’s mother, not yours. You are playing a part. I’ve told you the story Lord Hugh made up. Our pretend father recently died…” She had made the mistake of omitting the word “pretend” yesterday, and her sister had immediately burst into tears. “Leaving just us and our pretend widowed mother. He could hardly convince his mother we would all be here unchaperoned, when she expects us to have a mother. You are a stickler for propriety, Vee.… You know that would be the case.”
“I won’t do it!”
“You never batted an eyelid when I told you our pretend father was dead.”
“That’s because I knew I would never have to mention him by name if I chose to. I could nod and look sad, which I am, but I would never have to call another man ‘Papa’!”
“Then perhaps we manage to navigate all this without you ever having to call this woman ‘Mama’?” Not ideal, but as it was unlikely Vee would be capable of much more than sitting in Hugh’s mother’s presence without looking like an overwhelmed child, it was a way forward.
“That’s an excellent idea!” Diana wrapped her arm around Vee’s shoulders. “Only speak when directly spoken to and never say the word ‘Mama’! Come on, Vee … you can do this. We’ve come this far and Minerva is right. Without Lord Fareham’s money, we could be destitute within the year.”
“I’d rather be destitute than call a stranger ‘Mother’!”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Vee!” Diana’s newfound patience was short-lived. “Stop being a baby! Sometimes, a person just has to strap on their stiff upper lip and grin and bear things!” Exasperated, she settled her eyes on Minerva, the message in them clear.
Stop mollycoddling her!
“Vee, I promised Lord Fareham I would give him at least a week, during which he would have our full compliance. Please do this one thing, Vee—simply because I need you to.”
“I won’t!”
Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught Diana’s look of complete frustration at the pair of them, and her temper flared, both at Vee’s continued belligerence and her own inability to discipline her properly.
“Oh yes you will!” As much as Minerva had never wanted to be a parent to her sister, let alone a strict one, it was obvious Vee needed one today. For all their sakes. “Because as much as you might prefer destitution, I can assure you, your only two remaining family members do not! And until our feckless father returns—if he ever returns—I am burdened with being the head of this family and therefore, whether you like it or not, what I say goes!”
“He’s not feckless!”
“Then where is he, Vee?”
Minerva didn’t wait to see if her words hit the mark and flounced out of the dining room expecting her sisters to follow, pausing once she arrived at the door to the drawing room to turn around. During that short walk, remorse at her flash of temper had begun to replace the anger. Behind Diana stood Vee, clearly on the verge of tears, and her heart wept for her. But it couldn’t be helped. While she hated hurting Vee’s tender feelings, her sister needed to learn the world didn’t revolve entirely around her. Vee might have been a child when their father had left, but Minerva had barely been a woman and had no clue how to raise his other daughters. Necessity had meant she had had to learn fast. If she could do that and give up her own life in the process, surely it wouldn’t kill Vee to do this one thing?
Without saying another word, Minerva knocked on the door and sailed in. Hugh instantly sprung to his feet. He always sprung to his feet when she entered a room. She liked that tiny, thoughtful gesture.
“Ladies! I’d like you to meet Mrs. Agatha Landridge—your widowed mother fresh from Chipping Norton.”
An older woman with silver strands in her blond hair and a plump face beamed at them and rushed toward Minerva. “My dears! What a pleasure to meet you. And what beautiful daughters I have!” She turned to Hugh and nudged him. “You neglected to tell me they were quite so lovely, my lord. I presume their green eyes and stature come from their father.” For some reason, her bottom lip quivered the second she mentioned him. “I miss him dreadfully.”
“Your new mother likes to immerse herself fully in every character she plays.” Hugh’s twinkling blue eyes locked with Minerva’s. “Therefore, for the duration, she has announced she will be Mrs. Agatha Landridge at all times. Newly widowed and still grieving.”
The strange woman enveloped Minerva in an exuberant, perfumed embrace, which left her blinking back at Hugh, a little bewildered. “But I thought he’d been dead a year?”
“What is a year when one has lost the love of her life, Minerva? The loss of my husband has left me broken. I doubt I shall ever fully recover.” Her new mother released her and similarly engulfed Diana. “My darling…” She stepped back and held her at arm’s length. “And look at you! Just as beautiful as my dear Minerva!” Teary eyes traveled to Vee, who stood warily near the door and appeared ready to bolt at any moment. “And you must be my Venus…”
“I am not your anything!” Vee actually stamped her foot before breaking into a run and disappearing down the hallway.
Their new mother looked shocked at the outburst, her small hand flapping near her breast. “I knew she was sensitive about her name…”
“It’s not her name.” Diana huffed out an irritated breath. “It’s the situation. She feels pretending to have a mother is disrespectful to our real mother’s memory.”
“I am so sorry. I should have told her about this sooner. I did just spring it on her, and Vee needs time to adjust…” And Minerva was going to wring her sister’s neck when she got hold of her if she continued to be so childishly stubborn. “I’ll go speak to her now. She’ll be better once she’s calm.”
Hugh and Lord Bellingham exchanged an odd look. One that didn’t suggest they had much faith.
“No … let her digest things for a little while on her own. You and Diana can catch her up on this afternoon’s lesson later. We’ll probably get more ground covered without her anyway.… Perhaps she’s missing home? The rest of your family?”
“What rest of the family?” Diana answered before she could. “It’s just the three of us.”
She watched Hugh’s handsome face fill with sympathy. “Your father is gone, too?”
“Long gone.” The wastrel. But Minerva did not want to discuss that now in front of an audience. Instead, she turned to her strange new mother. “I suppose we should get to know one another…”
Whoever originally said “clothes maketh the man” had plainly not known the first thing about women. Minerva looked like a princess, hardly recognizing her own reflection in the mirror, but she still felt like an imposter regardless. An imposter about to face her worst nightmare.
“Are you ready, Minerva?” Vee, on the other hand, couldn’t contain her excitement. After her rude outburst yesterday and the subsequent tense discussion the sisters had afterward, the youngest Merriwell had dug her heels in—until three stylish riding habits had arrived in the second batch of new outfits from the modiste. The impressive garments came with a message from Payne, who informed them His Lordship thought they had been cooped up inside long enough and should ride to the village later in the morning on horseback. With that exciting prospect, Vee was on board again and vowed to make more of an effort not to be offended by everything, because she had always wanted to learn to ride.
Minerva, in stark comparison, had never wanted to learn to ride.
In fact, she had never wanted to be nearer than twenty feet to a horse her entire life and had deftly managed to avoid being so without the sturdy security of a carriage and an able driver protecting her person.
Horses were big, unpredictable, and fast creatures who, frankly, terrified her. Sitting on the back of one was Minerva’s idea of complete hell. Perhaps if she possessed the skills necessary to be a horsewoman—namely balance and the graceful athleticism required to stay on top of one—today’s trial wouldn’t be a trial at all. However, with her gangly long limbs, complete lack of coordination, and genuine fear that her innate clumsiness might cause her to fall and break her neck, she would rather face the Spanish Inquisition than an hour on horseback.
“Hurry up, Minerva! The gentlemen are waiting!” Now even Diana was chivvying her. “Lord Bellingham says once we’ve mastered the basics, we are going to ride the mile to the village afterward. An actual quaint English village! I am dying to see it. I always fancied myself living in a village over smelly old London. Parts of it are supposedly medieval.”
Clearly only Minerva was dreading their outing, but with Vee finally smiling for once and nothing tart or pessimistic coming from Diana’s lips since yesterday’s dinner, she could hardly be the one to spoil their fun.
“Go on ahead. I shall meet you down there.”
She needed a minute alone to calm her bouncing nerves. With any luck, Hugh would have selected a squat, docile mount for her, or one so old and slow a tortoise would give it a run for its money—one low enough to the ground that the inevitable fall wouldn’t hurt.
Much.
With a sense of impending doom, she poked another of her new hatpins into the strange, feathered confection on her head. It wasn’t so much a hat as a decoration, but it was exceedingly pretty and had been made to match the magnificent burgundy riding habit she was sporting. At least that was something she could appreciate. The heavy velvet skirt was longer at the back than she was used to, but the fabric was stunning, and the cut sublime. Especially the tight bodice trimmed with an homage to military braiding and twenty shiny brass buttons. And it was new. She had never owned anything before that wasn’t secondhand.
She stared at her reflection and inhaled deeply. Of all the challenges she would have to face as an earl’s pretend fiancée, this was hardly the most challenging. As Hugh had reassured her last night, any activity that kept them occupied during his mother’s visit would make the time pass more quickly, along with diverting his mother’s attentions elsewhere. The more diverted she was, the easier their brief time together would be.
Whilst out riding, Minerva wouldn’t have to lie, pretend to be anyone else, or remember an elaborate backstory—as all gently bred ladies knew how to ride, and he’d told his mother repeatedly how the pair of them enjoyed nothing more than galloping across the fields together. But at least he had faithfully promised there would be no galloping or even cantering. All she had to do was place her bottom in the saddle and keep it there.
How hard could that be?