A Chance to Dream Page 4

  “No?” With a sudden, shocking gesture, Lady Perdita lifted her skirts to just above her knees. Violetta stared.

  Her silk stockings fastened just above her knees with pretty blue garters, but they didn’t hide the legs beneath. They were thin to emaciation. The calf muscles looked wasted, the thighs flabby. Both legs were marked with ugly scars, legacies of the accident. This was what Lady Perdita dreaded, what she faced every morning.

  “Looked your fill?” Lady Perdita’s voice came sharp and shrill.

  “No.” Forgetting her veil of humility, Violetta went down on her knees in front of Lady Perdita and took one leg in her hands. She felt the muscle, wasted from months of disuse, and the firm bone beneath. Lady Perdita twitched the leg away. So she did have some movement, then. “You need to exercise.” It looked to Violetta that once the muscles had been built up again Lady Perdita would be able to walk as well as anyone.

  “And how am I to do that without walking? Don’t talk nonsense!”

  Violetta heard hope in the condemnation. “There are ways. We can stimulate the muscle. Here.” She put her hand on the bottom of the foot. The shoes were unmarked underneath, as fresh as the day they were delivered from the cobbler’s. “Push against my hand.”

  Lady Perdita gave a long-suffering sigh, but then Violetta felt it. A definite push, pressure against her hand. A surge of triumph welled inside her. “You wouldn’t be able to do that if you were paralyzed. We can do this, I know we can.” She dropped the foot and watched Lady Perdita place it carefully on the floor next to its mate. “You can control your feet. You can feel through them, you can push. How brave are you?”

  “That is not your place to say, or to ask!” Lady Perdita looked astonished at the effrontery.

  “Maybe not, but what have you to lose? We can exercise, we can try to improve the muscles until you’re ready to stand.” Violetta felt excitement surge within her. She could do this, she could help her ladyship to stand. However, she understood better than she had the previous week the pride the lady used to push people away, to stop the pity. She sat back on her heels. “If you agree, we can exercise every day. There’s no need to tell anyone, even Lady Judith if you don’t wish it. That way, if we fail no one else will know.” She knelt on the floor and rearranged Lady Perdita’s skirts. While she smoothed the shining satin and gauze, she continued, in an unthreatening tone she did her best to make soothing. “What harm is there in it? We can try.”

  “I can’t.” The whisper was low, hardly there at all.

  “Why not? You aren’t afraid, surely.” Violetta smoothed the last wrinkle and got to her feet. “Lady Perdita, I’m sure it can be done, but if I’m wrong, we’ll keep it between ourselves. Just some exercises.”

  She waited. She knew the power of not being the one to break an uncomfortable silence. Lady Perdita worried her lower lip between her teeth, staring up at Violetta. “Very well.”

  Violetta would have cried her triumph to the stars, had she been able to.

  There was no time for more. The door opened to admit Lord Blyth and the three members of his family invited for dinner. Violetta hastily hurried behind Lady Perdita’s chair. Her heart seemed to increase in intensity and a nervousness she had not felt since first stepping into this house threatened to overwhelm her. She was sure she had been mad to take this post, and mad to meet Lady Taversall without allowing her mother to warn her old friend first, but it was done now.

  “Mama,” Lady Perdita murmured.

  Lady Taversall swept forward in a flurry of scented skirts. “My dear girl!” She bent and embraced her daughter, then frowned. “Still not walking, I see. Why is this? I had thought to see you at the Devonshire ball last week!”

  Lord Blyth came to his sister’s defence. “Dr. Sewell says rest is the best thing and she will walk when she is ready.”

  Violetta wondered at that advice. From what she had seen, it didn’t take a genius to deduce that the muscles needed building up again. Perhaps it was a matter of poor advice. She would be sure to be there when the good doctor made his next visit on the morrow.

  It seemed Lady Taversall thought the same thing for she turned back to her son with a frown marring her smooth forehead. “Nonsense!” She stood up and faced Violetta, who stood mutely behind Lady Perdita’s chair. Violetta saw the words leave her. She stood, her mouth slightly agape, staring. It hadn’t taken her long at all.

  “Mama, this is the lady I have engaged to provide Perdita with some companionship while she is recovering.” Lord Blyth came forward smoothly. The pause passed unnoticed by everyone but Violetta and Lady Taversall. Violetta, ready for the confrontation, stood still and blank faced. Only Perdita saw anything of Lady Taversall’s expression. Before she remembered where she was and corrected it, it was frank astonishment.

  Perdita stared, Violetta kept her face clear of expression. “Why, Mama, can it be that you know Miss Lambert?”

  Lady Taversall blinked once, and looked down at her daughter. “No,” she said evenly. “I merely thought she reminded me of someone I once knew. You’re not related to the Palagios are you, Miss Lambert?”

  A direct challenge. Violetta had to lie or reveal her secret. She felt the grim amusement, although she did not reveal it. “I have no idea, Lady Taversall. I have no influential relatives, or I would have prevailed on them to give me a season.”

  Lady Taversall gave her an infinitesimally small lift of one eyebrow in acknowledgement. “I see. Well, it seems you will have your season, Miss—er Lambert. One way or another.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  This earned Violetta a sharp, suspicious look from Lord Blyth. With another quirk of an eyebrow Lady Taversall turned away and allowed the introductions to be made. Violetta was introduced to Lord Taversall, a tall, distinguished man, and his and Lady Taversall’s son, Lord Elston, a natural charmer, from the way he bowed over her hand and let the contact last a fraction longer than was absolutely necessary.

  During dinner she caught a few piercing glances from Lord Blyth’s bright blue eyes, but she pretended not to notice. She could only hope he would forget any suspicions he might have about her, but she was beginning to know him a little better. She doubted he would forget.

  Lady Taversall and Violetta studiously ignored each other through dinner, except to exchange the occasional polite comment. They behaved as strangers should until it was time for the ladies to leave the dining room for the drawing room. The hostess, Lady Perdita, motioning a footman to her and requesting the presence of her personal attendant, accomplished this. When he arrived, he lifted her and the gentlemen stood, just as though Lady Perdita had used her own limbs. The ladies followed the men out of the room, but as she would have turned and followed, Violetta felt a tug on her sleeve. She had expected it. Without a word she turned and followed Lady Taversall to one of the smaller family rooms on the first floor.

  Lord Blyth’s study was warmed by a small fire on this still chilly March evening. The fires lit the mahogany furniture to warmth. They did not need any extra light. Lady Taversall turned to Violetta, her face grim. “What are you doing here?”

  Violetta didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Following my dream, Aunt Virginia.”

  “Explain.”

  Violetta regarded her mother’s dearest friend. Would this be a step too far? Now she had stepped into her world would Lady Taversall deny her and her mother? If that was so, Violetta thought with a slash of anger, she wasn’t a friend worth having. “I know how worried you are about your daughter. There is time, before I make my debut, to help. And it gives me an opportunity to observe, before I must take part.”

  “You’re mad, child! If anyone recognizes you, I cannot do anything for you!”

  Violetta turned away and stared into the fire before lifting her head and staring at Lady Taversall with a defiant lift to her chin. “My mother is the bravest person I know. She has faced years of ignominy with the courage of a saint facing the stake. She gave up respectability
. She is as well-born as you, Lady Taversall, she has as much right as you to happiness, but she can never go back. I can, but I mean to do this first.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Lady Taversall looked surprised more than anything else. “Your mother and I understand life isn’t fair. We take what we have and make the most of it. It’s all any of us can do. I don’t deny your right to take what should be yours. What I am wondering is what you’re doing here, why you’ve decided to take the risk. Be quick, girl, we’ll be missed if we stay here much longer. Taversall already suspects the worst.”

  “Does he know you come to see us?”

  Lady Taversall smiled. “Yes, he does, but he’s never seen you or your mother, except at a distance. He knows her story, and yours. He’s a wise man, Violetta, wiser than my other two husbands, and infinitely more dear. If it had not been for Daniel and then Orlando, I might have followed in your mother’s footsteps. I was destitute when Blyth died. It would have been easy had I only daughters. But sons are not so fortunate. They are born into what they will always be. I could not betray them like that, so I was forced to keep to respectable poverty.” She turned suddenly in a swish of expensive silk. “You terrify me, Violetta.”

  Under that piercing gaze Violetta was not so sure any more. She tried to explain. “I have my legacy from my father, and since my mother won’t touch hers, I have hers too. I have more than many respectable girls. You have never wavered, you have always supported my mother. I know she found her years of—work—hard, although she tried not to show it. I know you could have been excoriated for being her friend. I want to pay you back in some way.” She took a few steps away from the fire, to Lord Blyth’s desk, picking up one of the quills, running the soft feather through her fingers. “I know why Lady Perdita hasn’t walked, or I’m beginning to suspect it. I truly think I can help.” She looked up, straight back at this lady she had known for most of her life, seeing the void that lay between them. “I want to be respectable, Aunt Virginia. I don’t think I’ll find a husband, but I can make a life for myself.”

  “You’ll break your mother’s heart if you’re recognized, my girl. It will be the end of all her dreams for you. Italy isn’t too far away for gossip from England to reach it.” She spoke the words softly but they fell on Violetta worse than anything roared in anger could have done.

  “I know.” Her hands went to rub her arms as if she was cold, although the room was perfectly warm. “I knew as soon as I told her. But you know what she’s like, Aunt Virginia. She insists I go ahead with my plan, now I’ve started.” She paused, clutching her arms closely to her. “Lady Perdita needs help. She can walk, I know she can. I can help her.”

  “By being a friend? She has friends. One of them is your mother’s lover’s daughter.”

  “I have met Lady Judith. I didn’t plan for that, but it wasn’t too difficult.” Violetta felt something unnameable closing around her. “No, Lady Taversall. I think your daughter can walk again, but she is being told the wrong things.”

  “You know better than Dr. Sewell?”

  Violetta was taken with a mad urge to plead. She knew she wanted to help Perdita, she needed to help her, though she was far from understanding why. “I think, in this case, I might. Dr. Sewell has told her to rest. Aunt Virginia, she doesn’t need rest. The breaks are healed, but her muscles are so wasted they need work. If she doesn’t exercise, they will waste away and then she will never be able to walk again. Tonight I persuaded her to try. If I leave now, as I probably should, her legs will atrophy.”

  In the warmth of the firelight Lady Taversall’s face paled. “You’re sure?”

  Violetta shrugged. “Of course not. It’s merely common sense. I won’t do anything until I’ve spoken to the doctor.”

  “You were never without common sense.” Lady Taversall stared into space. Violetta didn’t interrupt her thoughts. Eventually she turned to Violetta again. “Very well. Do what you can. If you can help Perdita to walk again I will be more than grateful. However, if you’re in any danger I want you to come to me or your mother at once.”

  “I don’t need your gratitude. That’s not why I’m doing it.”

  “I know.”

  The door opened to reveal Lord Blyth. His bright eyes took in the scene and then returned, and met Violetta’s startled gaze. Before she could say anything Lady Taversall went forward. “I wanted to discuss Perdita’s situation with Miss Lambert. I have heard some interesting things. I feel sure Miss Lambert can help her.” She continued to speak, not allowing her son a word. “She seems a most competent young woman.” She took Lord Blyth’s arm, talking all the while. “Did you miss us? I thought you would be ensconced in the drawing room this age! When you and your brother get together we can’t expect you to join the ladies much before ten. Have they set the card tables up?”

  She heard Lord Blyth’s answering murmur but by that time Lady Taversall had propelled him halfway up the corridor towards the drawing room. Violetta followed more slowly. It was true. Her own plans no longer mattered. She wanted to see Lady Perdita take her first steps. Then her schemes could take precedence. Not before.

  Chapter Four

  Violetta didn’t want to go into the drawing room, but she was afraid she would be missed. Lady Perdita would be bound to ask for her. So instead, she went in and stood behind Lady Perdita’s chair, trying to look like a servant.

  It didn’t work. When he saw her, Lord Blyth fixed her with a blatantly interested stare. He studied her until she looked away. She caught his small smile although she wished she had not.

  She had only been here a few days, but already she was far too attracted to Lord Blyth. His reassurance not to take advantage of her because of her position in his household increased in worthlessness every day. Because she wanted him. She found herself wondering what it would be like to feel his hands on her, on her most intimate places, things she didn’t know she knew, things that made her hot inside. Her background had given her access to information. She knew far more than any virgin had a right to, but before this the knowledge had been academic, for her at least. She had never wanted to do anything like that before. Now she did.

  It was impossible. She could not, she would not allow him to see how she felt. If she did, he might react, dowdy disguise notwithstanding. When he looked at her sometimes she felt as though he could see through the padding, the wig, the spectacles, to the Violetta beneath. Ridiculous!

  Violetta was glad when Lady Perdita excused herself and was carried upstairs for an early night. After she had seen the lady settled comfortably, her duties were over and she could retire, leaving Lord Blyth to see his family out.

  When she came out of Lady Perdita’s room he was waiting for her. Outside in the corridor. She didn’t see him at first, not until she had got her door open. Then she heard a movement and spun around. “Who is it?”

  “No, don’t be afraid. It’s only me. I wanted a quick word, that’s all and I didn’t want everyone to know.” He came closer. “Can we go inside your room? I don’t want Perdita hearing me. I promise to be good.” He gave her a wry, one-sided smile.

  “Y-yes.” Asking a man into her bedroom now. Whatever next?

  He followed her into the little room. In his evening clothes he looked out of place here, in this plain space. He stared around him. “I didn’t know your chamber was so spartan. Who arranged it?”

  “Lady Perdita gave the orders, but I think the housekeeper arranged it.”

  He nodded as though that explained something. “I’m sorry, I ordered the room furnished but didn’t oversee the process. I’ll see this is improved for you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  He spun round, the skirts of his evening coat swirling around him. “It matters to me!” His tone was vicious, but when he saw Violetta’s instinctive withdrawal he took a deep breath and then smiled. “I’m sorry. I hate such pettiness. It’s not you. I merely wanted to ask you if you were free tomorrow. And to thank you for w
hat you’ve done for Perdita so far.”

  “I don’t think I’ve done a great deal, not yet.”

  “Does that mean you will stay and help?” His look held a plea.

  “Why should I not?”

  He shrugged. “She’s not an easy person. You’re not the first companion I’ve engaged for her. She said she was displeased with you earlier this evening.”

  “She is proud.”

  “She is.” He went to the door. “I’m glad you want to stay. Be assured of your welcome.” He turned, his hand on the doorknob. “May I take you out driving in the morning? Early, before the fashionable world is awake?”

  Violetta felt shy. She had never been out driving with a gentleman before. Not in this country, anyway. And never with someone she found so disturbingly attractive.

  Violetta tried to dress in her dowdiest clothes in the morning, but she had little choice. In her guise as country spinster she had been careful to buy dull colours in durable fabrics. Most of her wardrobe was second-hand, because it had the right air of shabbiness about it, but she’d had them all thoroughly laundered before she had worn them. Her French maid, Lisette, with Violetta since her days at the French finishing school, who seemed to have become more French since she set foot on English soil, had thrown up her hands and refused to touch them, but Violetta had insisted and they had been sent out to a laundry.

  Now she had a plain gown of dark brown wool, which she wore over a flat hoop, the kind that had been the height of fashion a few years before. It was a warm day, even though it was only nine in the morning, and the gown was too heavy, but it was all she had that was suitable.

  He was waiting for her in the hall, although she had half doubted he would be there. He gave her a charming smile and led her outside. He was dressed in brown too, but there the resemblance to her clothes ended. His coat was of fine, dull silk, lined in amber silk. His waistcoat matched the lining, and was embroidered in the same colour as his coat. The effect was one of quiet elegance. The only showy part was the gold braid around the brim of his cocked hat. Violetta, in her shabby, dowdy outfit, felt ashamed to be seen with him.