Passion was not the hallmark of a lady. Gentility and refinement were what he wanted. Right?
* * *
Matilda worked at the long table in the main room, mashing and mixing the pomade ingredients with great vigor. Lavender, rose petals, bay leaves, and cloves filled the bottom of her largest bowl. She seemed to have lots of energy to spare today, lots of anxious, angry energy.
It was well after noon. Had Declan administered the candy aphrodisiac to Vanessa Arrington? What were they doing right now, right this very minute? She viciously worked the dried flowers and the hint of spice with a wooden spoon as she pondered the possibilities.
She was so lost in thought, the knock on her door made her jump. Very few people, but for Hanson and Gretchen, visited her during the daylight hours. And the children never knocked. They crept about and swiped candy and spied on her, but they did not knock at her door.
What if it's Declan? she thought with a leap of her heart. What if, once again, the potion had proven ineffective?
She left her bowl sitting on the table and went to open the door, and was surprised to see Vanessa Arrington herself standing there. Composed, serene, condescending Vanessa. There was no sign that she might've taken the candy, no flush of her cheeks or restlessness in her eyes. Perhaps tonight...
"Miss Arrington," Matilda said, surprise in her voice.
Vanessa didn't look directly at Matilda, but then she never did. Neither did she look directly at Mr. Fox, when Matilda saw her at the general store, or at her servants, like her driver, the still and diligent John Bowers who stood patiently behind her. She treated those around her with open disdain and disregard, and carried herself like a queen.
Declan's queen.
"Miss Candy," Vanessa said, looking to the room beyond. "If you have a moment, I have need of your services once again."
"Of course." Matilda stepped back and Vanessa swept into the room. Matilda gave John Bowers, who was two years older than she, a smile. They'd briefly attended Tanglewood's one-room schoolhouse together. Matilda's stay in that school had been short; she'd quickly grown tired of being taunted and teased because of her grandmother's reputation.
John had not been one of the children to taunt her, though, she remembered kindly. Vanessa probably would have, had she been given the opportunity, but she'd never set foot inside the Tanglewood schoolhouse. Private tutors had taught her, so that she would not have to rub shoulders with the common folk.
John was handsome and, from what Matilda remembered, smart. Why was he still in Tanglewood, a driver and stableman for Warren Arrington? He returned her smile before she closed the door.
"I'm almost out of face cream," Vanessa said. "And I thought I might purchase a bottle of rose water while I'm here."
"Certainly." Matilda collected the requested items, including the latest batch of beauty cream Hanson had spit into. Vanessa had been a regular buyer of the cream for the past three years—since she'd turned twenty.
"Also," Vanessa said in a lowered voice, "that rash on my arms has reappeared. The ointment you suggested last time worked wonderfully, but I'm afraid I'm completely out."
Matilda collected that ointment and placed it with the other purchases. "Anything else?"
A quarter of an hour later, Vanessa was finished. She had too many creams and ointments to carry, so Matilda placed them all in a small basket.
Wouldn't Declan love to know exactly how his queen stayed so beautiful?
Wouldn't Vanessa love to know what Declan had planned for her?
Unfortunately, being the keeper of Tanglewood's secrets meant keeping the secrets. Vanessa looked startled when Matilda handed her the heavy basket rather than offering to carry it to the carriage for her.
Matilda opened the door for Vanessa, who immediately handed the basket to her driver. John took the basket as if it weighed nothing, then took Vanessa's hand and assisted her into the carriage.
* * *
Matilda worked at the long table in the main room, mashing and mixing the pomade ingredients with great vigor. Lavender, rose petals, bay leaves, and cloves filled the bottom of her largest bowl. She seemed to have lots of energy to spare today, lots of anxious, angry energy.
It was well after noon. Had Declan administered the candy aphrodisiac to Vanessa Arrington? What were they doing right now, right this very minute? She viciously worked the dried flowers and the hint of spice with a wooden spoon as she pondered the possibilities.
She was so lost in thought, the knock on her door made her jump. Very few people, but for Hanson and Gretchen, visited her during the daylight hours. And the children never knocked. They crept about and swiped candy and spied on her, but they did not knock at her door.
What if it's Declan? she thought with a leap of her heart. What if, once again, the potion had proven ineffective?
She left her bowl sitting on the table and went to open the door, and was surprised to see Vanessa Arrington herself standing there. Composed, serene, condescending Vanessa. There was no sign that she might've taken the candy, no flush of her cheeks or restlessness in her eyes. Perhaps tonight...
"Miss Arrington," Matilda said, surprise in her voice.
Vanessa didn't look directly at Matilda, but then she never did. Neither did she look directly at Mr. Fox, when Matilda saw her at the general store, or at her servants, like her driver, the still and diligent John Bowers who stood patiently behind her. She treated those around her with open disdain and disregard, and carried herself like a queen.
Declan's queen.
"Miss Candy," Vanessa said, looking to the room beyond. "If you have a moment, I have need of your services once again."
"Of course." Matilda stepped back and Vanessa swept into the room. Matilda gave John Bowers, who was two years older than she, a smile. They'd briefly attended Tanglewood's one-room schoolhouse together. Matilda's stay in that school had been short; she'd quickly grown tired of being taunted and teased because of her grandmother's reputation.
John had not been one of the children to taunt her, though, she remembered kindly. Vanessa probably would have, had she been given the opportunity, but she'd never set foot inside the Tanglewood schoolhouse. Private tutors had taught her, so that she would not have to rub shoulders with the common folk.
John was handsome and, from what Matilda remembered, smart. Why was he still in Tanglewood, a driver and stableman for Warren Arrington? He returned her smile before she closed the door.
"I'm almost out of face cream," Vanessa said. "And I thought I might purchase a bottle of rose water while I'm here."
"Certainly." Matilda collected the requested items, including the latest batch of beauty cream Hanson had spit into. Vanessa had been a regular buyer of the cream for the past three years—since she'd turned twenty.
"Also," Vanessa said in a lowered voice, "that rash on my arms has reappeared. The ointment you suggested last time worked wonderfully, but I'm afraid I'm completely out."
Matilda collected that ointment and placed it with the other purchases. "Anything else?"
A quarter of an hour later, Vanessa was finished. She had too many creams and ointments to carry, so Matilda placed them all in a small basket.
Wouldn't Declan love to know exactly how his queen stayed so beautiful?
Wouldn't Vanessa love to know what Declan had planned for her?
Unfortunately, being the keeper of Tanglewood's secrets meant keeping the secrets. Vanessa looked startled when Matilda handed her the heavy basket rather than offering to carry it to the carriage for her.
Matilda opened the door for Vanessa, who immediately handed the basket to her driver. John took the basket as if it weighed nothing, then took Vanessa's hand and assisted her into the carriage.
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