Midnight Bride by Barbara Allister Page B

country with Charles, leaving their guest to take a nap, she asked curiously, "How did you and Hartley become friends?"
    Charles looked at her sharply, not really wishing to admit the truth. "What does it matter?"
    "Is it something you are ashamed of?"
    "Yes."
    "I knew there was something not quite right. You have been avoiding him whenever you could. Why don't you ask him to leave?" Elizabeth pulled her horse to a halt, forcing Charles to do the same. She turned to look at him. "Well, are you going to tell me you want him to stay?"
    "It is not the thing to do." Her brother avoided her eyes, turning to survey the fields on the horizon. "Besides, he amuses Louisa." And, he admitted to himself, as long as Hartley was at the manor the man could not hope to collect on that piece of paper Charles had signed.
    "Come, now, Charles. You can think of a better excuse than that." Elizabeth said sardonically. "Why does he want to stay? What could be of interest to him here? We have no gambling."
    "Every time I go looking for him, he is with Louisa. Maybe she is the one who should explain," her brother said in a teasing voice.
    Elizabeth glared at him and spurred her horse into a gallop, the rich azure blue veil on her riding hat trailing behind her like a war banner. Charles followed for a while and then passed her, heading back toward the manor. When she reached the stables, he was waiting to hand her down. "Charles, try to get him to leave. He is already the subject of rumors in the area. Servants, no matter how well trained, do talk to their friends on other estates. And you know how your mama feels about him. If she hears that he is visiting you here . . ." She let her voice trail off suggestively.
    "Then my hopes for a commission are forever gone." She nodded and headed toward the house. Charles stood and watched her until she disappeared.
    "Damn!" Charles slammed his hand against the side of the barn.
    "Something wrong, sir?" asked a groom who was hurrying forward to take the reins of the horses from him.
    "No. Nothing." Charles handed him the reins and plunged off toward the house, taking the familiar route through the kitchen.
    No sooner had Elizabeth entered the front entry hall than Jeffries appeared. "Your mail, Miss Beckworth ," he said quietly.
    "I will take it upstairs with me. Was there anything for anyone else?" Every day she hoped Hartley would receive a message recalling him to town.
    "Only for Mrs. Beckworth and your brother." Jeffries stood quietly waiting for further orders.
    "Send my maid up to me, please," Elizabeth said as she looked at the letters from Amelia and her stepmother. There was an unfamiliar handwriting on one that puzzled her. "Oh, tell her I will want a bath," she added as she headed up the stairs, turning the letter over to see if she recognized the seal.
    As usual her maid had already anticipated her desires; Miller had the tub ready. Elizabeth gratefully disrobed and climbed into the copper tub, shivering for a moment in the cool air. Miller quickly poured another bucket of hot water in, waiting for the sigh of satisfaction her mistress always gave when the water was exactly right.
    Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warm water soothe her. Then she reached out a hand. "Hand me my mail, Miller." She quickly opened her stepmother's letter, noting that once again it began with an invitation and a command. "She wants me to come to London now or at least to Brighton for the summer, Miller. Do you think she will ever give up?"
    Her maid, if she had been asked her opinion, would have agreed with Lady Ramsburg . Miss Beckworth needed more people around her. Miller did not want to be the maid of a crotchety maiden lady all her life. When she had taken the position as lady's maid to her mistress, she had envisioned dressing her for all the famous ton parties, of being sought after for her unique way of curling her mistress's hair. For the First Season it had been everything she had dreamed