"Oh, but, really, sir," Elizabeth cried, distressed at the awkward predicament in which she found herself, "I could not trespass further on your hospitality. The rain may not ease all night. I would sooner leave now, while there is still daylight."
"I shall have the housekeeper make up a guest chamber for you, ma'am," Mr. Mainwaring said. "I believe you are right. The rain will not let up for a long while. And I am sure that Mrs. Rowe can spare you for one night."
"And you will spare us from the boredom of the same company again this evening," Mr. Prosser added. "Please do stay, ma'am."
"I believe Miss Rossiter should be allowed to do as she wishes," Amelia Norris said shrilly. "Perhaps she does no! feel comfortable in elevated company."
"You speak a pile of nonsense sometimes, Amelia," her sister scolded. "Come, let us find some dry clothes for Miss Rossiter to wear."
Very much against her will, Elizabeth allowed herself to be led from the room by Mrs. Prosser.
"I really do not believe that I have anything suitable," Amelia said as she followed them out of the room.
By the time they had found a gown suitable for Elizabeth to wear, Mrs. Prosser suggested that they all rest prior to getting ready for dinner.
"William keeps country hours here," she explained. "We dine early. I shall send my own dresser in one hour's time to help you get ready."
"I am sure Miss Rossiter is accustomed to do for herself," Amelia said acidly.
"Indeed I am, ma'am," Elizabeth said, smiling at Mrs. Prosser. "I beg you will not inconvenience yourself."
"We shall see," the other woman assured her. "Now, please do rest. I am still worried that you will have caught a chill this afternoon."
Elizabeth did not lie down. She drew a chair to the window and sat looking out. Indeed, it would be madness to venture out, armed as she was only with a heavy pelisse and half-boots. And it would be equal madness to force Mr. Mainwaring to call out a closed carriage when it would get bogged down in the mud in no time at all. Yet even so, she felt wretchedly uncomfortable with her situation. She felt herself to be an intruder, and her ambivalent position as an employed lady did not help her confidence. However polite Mr. Mainwaring's guests might be, they must surely view her as a servant and feel that she did not really belong with them at the dinner table and in the drawing room afterward. To make matters worse, there was the presence of Hetherington. He hated and despised her. She almost knew by the look in his eyes earlier that he believed that she had maneuvered this visit. She was dreadfully embarrassed. She even considered sending a message at dinnertime to say that indeed she had caught cold and would prefer to stay in her room. But that might be construed as yet another attempt to focus attention on herself.
No, she must go down. She gazed in despair at the gown laid out on the bed. She must wear it. Her own clothes had been whisked away by a maid to be cleaned. Even if they were dry in time, they were not suitable for evening wear. And she could certainly not venture downstairs in the warm but ample dressing gown that she was currently wearing. It had been the plainest gown that Amelia Norris possessed, and she had been noticeably reluctant to lend even that. But its neckline was a great deal lower than anything Elizabeth had worn since she had been a debutante, its sleeves were short and puffed, and its hem was delicately scalloped. And it was of the palest primrose yellow. Mrs. Prosser had lent her a pair of gold slippers. They were a size too large, but Elizabeth was not planning to do much walking.
Finally, when the dresser came to see if she could be of any help, Elizabeth dressed herself. She blushed with mortification when she looked at herself in a mirror. She looked like a girl again, her delicately curved figure accented by the flimsy material of the gown. There was altogether too much bare flesh in evidence for her comfort. The skirt was slightly too long. She would have to hold it up whenever she was on her feet. Her hair still streamed down her back in thick chestnut waves. She hastily gathered together all her hairpins and grabbed a brush. Soon the hair had been tamed into a knot that sat even more severely on her neck than usual.
A tap at the door heralded the return of the dresser. She brought with her a pearl necklace and a warm white shawl from her mistress. Elizabeth was grateful for both. The pearls somehow made her neck and bosom seem less bare. The shawl was something to hide behind.
It took a great deal of courage to leave the room and descend the staircase to the drawing room. As fortune would have it, only Hetherington and Mr. Mainwaring were yet present, the former looking startlingly handsome in black. They both rose to their feet and stared at her as she timidly entered. Mr. Mainwaring crossed the room in a few long strides and took her hand in his. He smiled dazzlingly.
"I am delighted to see, ma'am, that you are none the worse for your ordeal this afternoon," he said. "And please give me leave to say that you look quite beautiful." He raised her hand to his lips. "Would you not agree, Robert?" he added.
Elizabeth had been aware ever since she entered the room of Hetherington standing with his back to the fire, his face pale, his lips tightly drawn together. He was watching her intently.
He lifted his glass now in a mock salute. "Charming," he said, and raised one eyebrow.
"Do come to the fire, Miss Rossiter, and let me get you a drink," Mr. Mainwaring said, apparently noticing nothing out of the ordinary in his friend's attitude.
He led her to a chair close to where Hetherington was standing, then crossed the room to a sideboard where an array of decanters and glasses had been set out.
"It is the hairstyle that is the real coup de grace," Hetherington murmured, looking into the dark liquid in his glass.
"Thank you, my lord," Elizabeth said sweetly. "I knew I might depend upon you to make me feel at home."
"I thought you might be depended upon to do that for yourself, ma'am," he muttered so that Elizabeth felt herself near to bursting with rage by the time a smiling Mr. Mainwaring put a glass into her hand.
Fortunately, the other two ladies entered the drawing room at that point, soon to be followed by Mr. Prosser. Conversation became general and the party adjourned to the dining room. Elizabeth, viewed kindly by at least three of her table companions, found that the meal was not such an ordeal as she had anticipated. She felt almost cheerful by the time Mrs. Prosser rose to lead the ladies into the drawing room.
Amelia Norris made no secret of the fact that she did not feel it her duty to entertain or socialize with a mere Koverness.
"Come, Bertha," she said, "play for me while I sing."
Mrs. Prosser groaned. "Must we?" she asked. "It seems we have done little else in a week. I was hoping to have a comfortable coze by the fire with Miss Rossiter."
"There is nothing else to do," Amelia snapped, "and you know that Robert likes to hear me sing."
Mrs. Prosser sighed. "Will you excuse us?" she said to Elizabeth. "Do you sing or play, perhaps?"
"Only very indifferently," Elizabeth replied, shaking her head. "I shall enjoy listening to you."
When the gentlemen entered the drawing room a while later, it was to find Elizabeth sitting a little removed from the fire and the other two ladies at the piano at the other end of the large room.
"Ah, Henry," his wife called, "I need you here to turn the pages of the music for me."