Toast of the Season

❀ Chapter 17 ❀

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Rachel frowns at me. She has fixed my hair nicely but she disapproves of the dress I have chosen. I explained to her that I am going out to view a windmill and I would hate to ruin one of my new dresses. She assures me that she is capable of removing any stain I put on it, but I am not willing to take the risk. So now a fully frowning Rachel is currently buttoning up the back of the serviceable dark brown dress that was mine from back home. One of the only dresses I brought with me to the Tuftons. It fits me well and its dark color doesn't show stains. I think it will do nicely for today's outing. I promise her that I will call her immediately when I return to change to a nicer dress. This seems to be acceptable to her, although I can tell she would prefer I change now.

I look into the glass above the dresser and I see my eyes are still slightly puffy from my crying the night before. Rachel hasn't asked about it, but she did put a warm wet cloth and tea leaves on my face while she did my hair. After my tearful night, I came up to bed and had a wonderful deep restful sleep for hours. 

"Rachel, I do not think my hair has ever looked so pretty. I wish I could keep you with me always." She beams at my compliment. I am not being fulsome, it actually looks quite nice. She braided several little sections of hair before she pulled it up and the detail of the little braids are so becoming. Last night Edmund said I should wear it down. Until a few months ago, I thought a lady could wear her hair that way. I have now learned it isn't proper.

On my way down to breakfast I stop by Beatrice's room to invite her to join us in viewing the windmill but she is not at all interested. In fact she seems surprised that anyone would be interested in such an outing. 

I eat a quick, simple breakfast alone. The apricot jam is delicious. I am trying not to think about how nice it was to be comforted by Edmund last night so I don't blush bright red when I see him. Perhaps I will imagine it was a dream. It almost feels like it was a dream, so it isn't hard to fancy it that way.

I purposely choose a bonnet with a large brim to protect my cheeks from the sun. I think Edmund will approve. He hasn't reprimanded me since coming to Beaumont. In fact, he has been in quite a good mood. I'm enjoying how at ease he is here at home.

It is nearing eight and I see Fields in the foyer as I enter. He has a bit of a worried look and I wonder how much he knows about last night. I smile up at him to show him that I am recovered. "Thank you so much for taking good care of me last night, Fields. I am fully recovered and I hope to not be romping around the house in the middle of the night again."

Fields is such a formal man that I think the small smile he gives me is significant. "I am glad to hear you have recovered, Miss. But don't swear off nighttime outings on my account. I believe there are some who might be disappointed if they were to end."

Before I can ask his meaning, Edmund enters from down the hall and I think that must be where his office is located. His eyes are assessing me and I know he is also wondering if I am better. "Rest assured, I am thoroughly improved from last night. In the busyness of the last weeks, I have not grieved for the loss of my father as I should. But it did my soul good to think and talk of him last night. Thank you for caring for me in my moment of grief." 

Edmund looks like he wants to pull me into a hug again but I know there will not be a repeat of that. He does take my hand. "I am so glad to hear it, Lizzy." Fields clears his throat, does he disapprove of Edmund's familiarity? Edmund gives Field a large smile, he doesn't look contrite in the least.

But his next words show that he can be suitably formal when needed. "Shall we, Miss Cavendish?" He tucks my hand into his arm.

"We shall, Lord Westworth." I smile up at him.