“Unlike you, Celeste, I go out of my way to avoid additional duties. As the Duchess’s abigail, there is no reason why you should arrange bouquets, make beds, or entertain old men. Are you hoping to marry him to gain his hovel? Or are you hoping to engage the attention of one of the old man’s grandsons?”
Celeste gaped at him. Her mind went completely blank, and then it went red with rage. “How dare you! Gran’ther Tim is old enough to be my grandfather. He is a wonderful, kind old man. My intentions, as you call them, are only to be nice to a fellow worker who is always unfailingly nice to me. More than that, they are to respect someone older than I. But respect is no doubt a concept so foreign to you as to be unrecognizable!”
Warner took a step toward her menacingly. “Have a care how you speak to me. I am only muzzled for a time because the Duchess wishes it to be so. In all things, her wish is my command. And those of the Duke, of course.”
“As they should be. You are in their employ, so their wishes should direct your actions. Now, if you do not mind, the Duchess requested me to clean her chambers. She broke her vial of lavender oil today. I would like to have it all cleaned up before her return so that she does not injure herself on it.”
“I’ll leave you to it then. But mark my words. I am watching your every move. Do one single thing to embarrass the Duchess and I will tell the Duke that you were reading instead of working.”
With that, Warner turned and left.
Celeste set the candle down on the hearth. Her hands were shaking so she could scarcely hold it. Tears of frustration and rage welled up in her eyes. She blinked furiously to hold them back. To accuse her so when he chased anything that wore skirts. No doubt if the Duchess were not a member of the peerage, he would chase her, too.
And the things he said about her and the Duke! Now the tears did fall, for she could not deny the truth. She did find the Duke attractive. More than that, he was a warm, kind, and truly gentle man.
Then for the Duchess to talk so about him. How could she possibly think that a season in London was more important than repairing the village mill? The mill would pay back the investment in it tenfold. The London Season would be enjoyed and then become a memory.
No doubt it would be pleasant to go to the theater and concerts, to attend parties, and to have no care about how much you spent each day.
Celeste sniffled and choked back a sob. One thing Warner was right about. She had come to care a great deal about the Duke. The handsome nobleman deserved a much better wife than the one he had. Whoever had arranged that marriage had done it with an eye toward gaining a stable husband for a wild and flighty daughter.
Afternoons alone in the solar would also make her vulnerable to Warner, she realized. With heavy heart, she picked up the candle and finished cleaning up the tiny shards of glass.
Was bringing Mama and Papa here a mistake? Should they simply all get on the boat and go back to Calais as soon as they arrived? No. Mama had said it was very dangerous in France. But right now, it seemed very dangerous here, even though only an hour or two ago it had seemed so safe.
The road before her seemed very bleak. How could she manage to travel it?
Chapter 10
It was not until the third day of the fair that Celeste managed to find time to attend it. Even for so small a place, the fair was certainly something to see. It was clear that it was an important event for the folk who lived in Gwyndonmere Valley and to their neighbors.
A row of booths lined the thoroughfare between the village and the main judging arena, located just below the castle. An observer would scarcely credit that so much as a cross word had been heard in Gwyndonmere Valley, let alone a murder or an estranged wife. Bright pennants flew from every available height and a cheerful holiday mood prevailed.
The Castle was bustling with activity, for peers and some of the local notables were put up in the guest rooms. The serving staff was given time in shifts to visit the fair. Some of the booths belonged to villagers who spent the winter making things to sell, but some were set up by folk from farther away. Peddlers brought hard-to-find items such as pins and needles, finer thread than the local housewives could spin, pots and pans, glassware, beautiful rugs, and much, much more.
A tall booth with a shade awning had been put up at one end of the field where the livestock judging was to take place. The Duke, Duchess, and their guests would sit there.
Rough benches were provided for lesser folk. The local villagers were provided with chits to get in free, but visitors were charged ha’pence each for the chance to sit down. The coins would go into the funds used to repair public building and help provide for the indigent.
Celeste had little to spend since she was saving to rescue her parents, but she looked forward to a chance to see the sights. She didn’t know a lot about cattle, sheep, or horses, but the row of booths looked promising. Her turn came after luncheon, when every hand had been required to prepare food, to serve the guests, and to clean up afterward.
Celeste tied on her shabby old hat, shrugged into a pelisse, and hurried down to visit the fair. Children, dogs, and chickens ran everywhere. She stopped for a moment to admire some shaggy cattle and a pen of sheep. She then moved on toward the booths, where she slowly walked down the row. She spent a penny on some ribbons and lace to refurbish her hat, then took time to simply enjoy the sunshine and holiday spirit of the crowd.
In the distance, across the judging field, she could see the Duke talking to a group of well-dressed men. They seemed to be discussing a brown horse that had white socks and a blaze down its nose. He was the handsomest gentleman there, she thought.
Unlike the prevailing custom, the Duke wore his hair shoulder length, and tied back with a dark ribbon that matched his coat. It suited him, the braided end lying neatly across his impeccably tied cravat and neat coat collar. The dark blue coat fitted his broad shoulders perfectly. The sun glinted off his dark brown hair. In one hand, he held a top hat of modest height while he rested the other on the horse’s neck.He looks remarkably handsome and seems to know exactly what he is doing. Wouldn’t it be fine to be married to such a gentleman?
Celeste sighed. She was more likely to become an old maid. Perhaps with time and hard work she could become a housekeeper like Miss Sedgewick. She would like to have a love like her Mama and Papa, but she was their only support for their old age. How she longed to have them with her! And how much she missed them.
No more fripperies and no more foolish fancies. Time to go back to the castle and let someone else have some fun.
Storm clouds began to build up to the west, and Celeste hurried. The first drops of rain were just beginning to spatter as she entered the scullery door.
Chapter 11
The trade fair closed early on the third day thanks to the weather. Jonathan had left Margery in the care of a footman while he went across the lots to deal speak with some of the guests. A storm had been boiling up out of the west when he had left her, even though he knew she was afraid of storms. Margery stared angrily at his retreating back.
Big thunderheads were scudding across the sky, skimming the tops of the mountain peaks above the castle. The cattle made those odd rumbling sounds that cattle make when they are upset and just talking to each other. She hated those sounds. Worse yet, the silly sheep were baaing mindlessly. Somewhere a chicken squawked in mortal fear and pain. Probably making the ultimate sacrifice for their dinner, so it would be chicken again.
