Heidi was led into a large, opulent room upstairs. A maid came in, and within minutes a roaring fire replaced the dark, unlit hearth that greeted her.
She strolled about the space, running her hand across the deep-green bedding and the multiple cushions. Did people of great wealth really need all those cushions to sleep? Hers at home held one, and not as fluffy as all those.
Several books sat on the bedstand, and she slumped onto the bed as a maid lit the sconces on the wall and several candles on the mantle and furniture.
Within minutes the room was welcome and warm, fighting off the chill from the storm that raged with ever-increasing ferocity outdoors. Perhaps the causeway was flooded, and she was stuck here. Although she could see his lordship lying about such facts, if only to ruin her, she could not see the servants doing so. Not when a lot of them were her friends and people she had known since she was a child.
The shutters rattled, and the house made an eerie whistling sound, accompanied by squeaks and groans as it tempered the storm.
This high up on the hill, overlooking the sea and the gully where their small village sat, the house was often buffeted by inclement weather. Heidi could only hope that it survived the night since she would be a guest here.
"Miss Lewis, it is lovely to see you again," the housekeeper, Mrs. Feathers said from the door. "Do let me know if you need anything, a cup of tea or a bath. I'm more than happy to have either brought up to you."
"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Feathers, that is very kind." She thought about the housekeeper's words a moment and decided she would take her up on the offer. Why not use Lord Levinstone for all she could? And it would save her from having to bathe tomorrow evening for the town ball. Should it go ahead, of course.
"I would adore a bath if possible. The walk up here was trying, and I feel a little windswept. Are you certain it will be appropriate?" she asked, knowing the housekeeper would not deny her anything, having always liked her.
“It is no trouble at all. We always keep water on the boil for his lordship. I shall have it brought up directly," she said, leaving her alone to organize.
Within a quarter of an hour, she stood beside a bath before the fire in her room. A maid had placed a drying cloth and lavender-scented soap on a chair before the tub and left her alone.
Heidi slipped from her gown, the mud starting to dry about the hem. She glanced upon the dress the housekeeper had lent her for the evening, one of Lady Grandison's, the viscount's elder sister, she assumed. Never had she worn silk in her life and a little part of her thrilled at the idea.
Heidi stepped into the bath, sinking under the water and sighing at the delight of being warm and in clean, scented hot water. How delightful and how easy the lives of the rich were. If only the people in the village had such luxuries, their hard living would not be so very trying.
She soaked in the bath for some time before a maid returned to her room and started setting pins and a brush on the dressing table.
"What is that for?" Heidi asked as she stood and reached for the towel.
"Mrs. Feathers said I'm to help you dress and do up your hair for this evening's meal. I'm very capable, Miss Lewis. I do Lady Grandison's hair when she does not travel with a maid," she explained.
The thought of being pampered was too much for her to resist, and she nodded, pulling on the clean shift and undergarments before the maid helped her with the gown.
The dress was of the softest silk, a deep shade of blue. Not that she was supposed to wear such shades being an unmarried maid, but at his lordship's home, in the wilds of Cornwall, she supposed one night would not hurt too much.
The maid took very little time in taming her long, brown locks, and for several minutes Heidi stared at herself in the mirror, unsure she recognized the woman looking back at her.
Gone were the strains of having to work to survive, the inability to bathe as much as she wanted, and forgo pretty gowns as the one she now wore. Instead, a woman of means, of luxury, stared back. A life she would glimpse for the night before returning to her reality.
The words from Lady Emma floated through her mind, reminding her how a woman of her low birth and connections was no longer welcome under this very roof.
Heidi turned and clasped the maid's hands. "Thank you for helping me this evening. You are very talented, for anyone who can make me look half-respectable is a marvel," she teased, smiling.
The maid's smile cheered Heidi up even more. "You are most welcome, Miss Lewis, and if I may say so while I'm here with you, I'm hoping to attend the village ball tomorrow evening. Much better fun than the one being held here," she said, leaving the chamber.
Heidi laughed, and couldn't agree more.
"Oh, Miss Lewis," the maid said, popping her head back through the door. "Dinner will be in twenty minutes. I understand you are familiar with the house, so please make your way downstairs to dine with Lord Levinstone when you're ready." She shut the door quietly.
Heidi nodded, wishing she could refuse his lordship's invitation, but then, she had more things to say to the pompous fool.
Perhaps I shall make him wait until his dinner is cold ...
No, she could not do that either, not when Mrs. Feathers had gone to so much trouble to make her evening comfortable and equal to his lordship’s, who no doubt would be preened and pressed to within an inch of his life for the dinner.
As children, the housekeeper had brought cakes, biscuits, and glasses of chilled lemonade down by the seashore when she and Lord Levinstone were friends. A kinder woman there never was. No, she could not refuse the invitation now or ruin the dinner by being tardy.
So many years ago now since those carefree, happy days. So many hurtful words had been said between them that she had long reconciled herself to never being friends again.
That time had passed, and his snobbery, his allowing his betrothed to talk down to one of his oldest friends, had put paid to that fellowship.
She ground her teeth. What an arse he had been that day.
As if the house agreed with her, a gust of wind rattled shutters and windows alike, and she frowned in thought, hoping they had a stronger constitution at remaining steadfast than his lordship had when it came to his friends.
Heidi checked the clock on the mantel, and she had one minute to arrive for dinner. Taking a fortifying breath and steeling her nerves, she left the safety of her room and started downstairs.
The house was still a hive of noise, busy with servants going about their chores before the Christmas ball tomorrow evening. She supposed it would still go ahead, storm or no storm, pork or no pork.
Matthew stood behind his chair in the dining room and tapped his fingers atop the wood of his seat. His gaze slipped to the clock. If Miss Lewis was not in here within a minute, she would be officially late.
He narrowed his eyes, hoping time would pass quickly so he could mention her tardiness. When they were children, she was always one to tell him to hurry up; they were going to be late for whatever adventure they were set upon, but here he was, years after those lazy days, and it was his turn to chastise her.
The sound of slippered feet on the parquetry floor told him she was hurrying, and just before the clock struck half past, she entered the room, a smug, knowing look on her pretty features.
Except, the loud, opinionated young woman he had once known was no longer present.
Not this evening, in any case. Outwardly at least.
The woman sauntering into the dining room was a marvel of beauty and grace.
He blinked, swallowing hard, and wondered what the hell was happening. When had Miss Heidi Lewis turned into a siren?
The pit of his gut clenched, and he inwardly swore. When he had suggested to Mrs. Feathers to have her prepared for dinner, he had expected a little tidying of her clothes and taming of her hair, but this was not that at all.
No. Miss Lewis was all womanly curves in her striking, low-cut gown that accentuated everything he had always wondered about Heidi but had never voiced.
God damn it all to hell. He closed his eyes, forcing his ire, his annoyance at her for being so cold and holding on to her grudge after so many years to come forthright in his mind and stop him from thinking of her that way.
Anything to stop him from imagining what she would look like out of her pretty silk gown.
She was no longer appealing to him, had not been for years. Not after she called him a prig and his fiancée something even less agreeable several days before he left London to marry his then-betrothed.
He supposed she wasn't entirely out of line when she did so.
He shook the thought aside. But beautiful? Surely he had never thought that of her.
"Miss Lewis, it is good of you to join me," he said, gesturing for her to take a seat.
She glanced at the clock, which at that very moment chimed the half hour. "I'm not late, my lord. No need to sound as though I am," she said, smiling at the footman who pulled out her chair and helped her sit.
Matthew watched his servant and frowned. Had there been a look between the two of them? Without thought, he glared at the young man and observed with little satisfaction as he schooled his features and went about his duties as he should.
"The Christmas decorations are lovely, my lord. What a shame that the poor, common folk of the township that grants you your privilege in so many ways will not see it," she said, picking up her red wine and taking a healthy sip.
A droplet of wine sat on her lip, making her lips appear even redder than they usually were, and plumper. When had her mouth changed to be so … so … kissable?
He cleared his throat. "You make a good point, Miss Lewis. I shall invite them to tour the house before they're removed so they may enjoy them as much as I have these past days."
She raised one mocking brow, and he had the overwhelming urge to ask her what she wanted, why she continued to be so unpleasant toward him.
Their disagreement happened years ago, and he had not married his betrothed after all, not when he himself learned how much of a disagreeable temper the woman had toward servants and himself if she did not get her way.
"Your sister, Lady Grandison, did not travel here this year. I suppose the right thing for me to say is that I'm very sorry for you. I know how much you love her while the other part of me …"
"Do not voice it, Heidi. I understand your meaning perfectly well."
"Heidi. You have not called me so in years. I do not think we need to start now. We are hardly friends. You ensured that was so."
Matthew sighed and prayed for patience. Dinner this evening was going to be very long and possibly leave him with a thick head come the morning after all the wine he would have to down merely to drown out her whining voice.
The thought shamed him. No, for all of his disagreements with Miss Lewis, she was never one to whine about situations. If anything, his ex-betrothed had been the one to do that.