Read Online The Fall of Lord Drayson (Tanglewood Book 1) by Rachael Anderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rachael Anderson
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“I have asked you the same question twice now with no reply.”
Pulled from her thoughts, Lucy’s eyes snapped to Mrs. Bidding’s. Even though they were both seated in the yellow salon, Lucy had to look up to meet the woman’s gaze. She was incredibly tall with mousy brown hair and a face that could easily be mistaken for a man’s if not for the elegant gowns and hats she wore. Mrs. Bidding had a commanding presence about her—one that had always intimidated Lucy even though she attempted not to show it. “I do apologize, Mrs. Bidding. I find myself a bit distracted today.”
The woman’s beady eyes squinted at Lucy for a moment before she sighed and tapped a napkin against the corner of her mouth. “What sort of trouble have you landed yourself in now, Lucy? I told your mother that I didn’t think it wise to leave you here alone with only your maid to look out for you, but would she listen to me? No. She was quite adamant that you would get on fine for a fortnight.”
“And I am.” Lucy was quick to defend herself. “I am simply missing Mama, is all.”
Mrs. Bidding’s expression softened, and she patted Lucy’s hand in a motherly way. “Not to worry, my dear. I have taken it upon myself to check in with you often. Why do you not dine with us at Eggington tonight? And every night, for that matter? I am sure Mr. Bidding would not mind at all.”
Lucy berated herself for not being able to think of a less sentimental reason behind her distraction. She had no notion Mrs. Bidding would be so concerned with her welfare. “You do me a great honor with such an invitation, Mrs. Bidding, but you know how I feel about horses, and Eggington is a long walk on foot.”
“I would never ask you to walk,” Mrs. Bidding rushed to say. “Of course I will send our carriage to collect you and bring you home safe and sound.”
Oh dear , Lucy thought frantically, this won’t do at all . Supping every night with the Biddings would be torturous indeed. Mr. Bidding was altogether too fond of telling the same story again and again. “You are a great deal too kind, Mrs. Bidding, but I could never impose on you in such a way. I am fine. Really, I am. I have Georgina to keep me company, and I am expecting a letter from Mama any day now. I’m sure as soon as I read her words, I will be greatly comforted.”
Mrs. Bidding did not look at all convinced, but she did not press the issue. She merely set down her teacup, rose to her full, towering height, and pulled on her gloves, signaling an end to their conversation. Lucy rose as well, though it did little to make up the difference in their heights. She practically strained her neck to look up at the woman.
“Thank you so much for coming, Mrs. Bidding. You are so kind to think of me in Mama’s absence.”
Mrs. Bidding’s mouth dipped into a frown as she looked past Lucy to a painting of a Grecian vase hanging on the wall adjacent to the fireplace. She walked over to it and ran a finger across the frame, pulling it back to reveal a dark spot on her pristine glove.
“Good gracious, does Georgina not know how to properly dust a room? This painting is filthy!”
Lucy grimaced. The painting was her least favorite in the entire house, and she avoided looking at it whenever possible, so of course she had missed seeing the dusting of ash around the frame. Lucy attempted to conjure up a reasonable falsehood to explain away the dirt, only to berate herself for her desire to lie yet again.
How quickly I have fallen, she thought sadly. Thus humbled, Lucy squared her shoulders and answered the question. “We had a bit of a mishap with the chimney flue earlier, Mrs. Bidding. We thought we had scrubbed the room all clean, but apparently we overlooked one painting.”
“We?” Mrs. Bidding gaped at Lucy, her expression one of shock and disapproval.
Lucy realized her mistake and quickly amended her explanation. “How could I be sure the room would be up to Mama’s standards if I
Pulled from her thoughts, Lucy’s eyes snapped to Mrs. Bidding’s. Even though they were both seated in the yellow salon, Lucy had to look up to meet the woman’s gaze. She was incredibly tall with mousy brown hair and a face that could easily be mistaken for a man’s if not for the elegant gowns and hats she wore. Mrs. Bidding had a commanding presence about her—one that had always intimidated Lucy even though she attempted not to show it. “I do apologize, Mrs. Bidding. I find myself a bit distracted today.”
The woman’s beady eyes squinted at Lucy for a moment before she sighed and tapped a napkin against the corner of her mouth. “What sort of trouble have you landed yourself in now, Lucy? I told your mother that I didn’t think it wise to leave you here alone with only your maid to look out for you, but would she listen to me? No. She was quite adamant that you would get on fine for a fortnight.”
“And I am.” Lucy was quick to defend herself. “I am simply missing Mama, is all.”
Mrs. Bidding’s expression softened, and she patted Lucy’s hand in a motherly way. “Not to worry, my dear. I have taken it upon myself to check in with you often. Why do you not dine with us at Eggington tonight? And every night, for that matter? I am sure Mr. Bidding would not mind at all.”
Lucy berated herself for not being able to think of a less sentimental reason behind her distraction. She had no notion Mrs. Bidding would be so concerned with her welfare. “You do me a great honor with such an invitation, Mrs. Bidding, but you know how I feel about horses, and Eggington is a long walk on foot.”
“I would never ask you to walk,” Mrs. Bidding rushed to say. “Of course I will send our carriage to collect you and bring you home safe and sound.”
Oh dear , Lucy thought frantically, this won’t do at all . Supping every night with the Biddings would be torturous indeed. Mr. Bidding was altogether too fond of telling the same story again and again. “You are a great deal too kind, Mrs. Bidding, but I could never impose on you in such a way. I am fine. Really, I am. I have Georgina to keep me company, and I am expecting a letter from Mama any day now. I’m sure as soon as I read her words, I will be greatly comforted.”
Mrs. Bidding did not look at all convinced, but she did not press the issue. She merely set down her teacup, rose to her full, towering height, and pulled on her gloves, signaling an end to their conversation. Lucy rose as well, though it did little to make up the difference in their heights. She practically strained her neck to look up at the woman.
“Thank you so much for coming, Mrs. Bidding. You are so kind to think of me in Mama’s absence.”
Mrs. Bidding’s mouth dipped into a frown as she looked past Lucy to a painting of a Grecian vase hanging on the wall adjacent to the fireplace. She walked over to it and ran a finger across the frame, pulling it back to reveal a dark spot on her pristine glove.
“Good gracious, does Georgina not know how to properly dust a room? This painting is filthy!”
Lucy grimaced. The painting was her least favorite in the entire house, and she avoided looking at it whenever possible, so of course she had missed seeing the dusting of ash around the frame. Lucy attempted to conjure up a reasonable falsehood to explain away the dirt, only to berate herself for her desire to lie yet again.
How quickly I have fallen, she thought sadly. Thus humbled, Lucy squared her shoulders and answered the question. “We had a bit of a mishap with the chimney flue earlier, Mrs. Bidding. We thought we had scrubbed the room all clean, but apparently we overlooked one painting.”
“We?” Mrs. Bidding gaped at Lucy, her expression one of shock and disapproval.
Lucy realized her mistake and quickly amended her explanation. “How could I be sure the room would be up to Mama’s standards if I
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