The Maid of Fairbourne Hall(26)

He nodded. “And the hall.”

Margaret lifted the basket to her face, inhaling deeply of the sweet aromas of late-summer roses and white clematis, amid other beautiful, though less fragrant varieties.

Betty, she knew, was repairing a torn seam for Miss Upchurch, while Fiona and Mrs. Budgeon were busy taking an inventory of the linen cupboard.

Margaret had already realized no one at Fairbourne Hall had an eye for flower arrangements. What a pleasure it would be after the drudgery of polishing summer-bright grates, sweeping stairs, and emptying chamber pots.

Margaret carried the flowers to the stillroom, knowing Hester would have the containers and implements she would need.

Hester greeted her warmly and welcomed her back into her sunny, warm domain.

For Helen’s dressing table, Margaret chose a blue porcelain vase and filled it with a low arrangement of pale roses, pink asters, blue cornflowers, and dainty white clematis with lovely trailing vines. For the hall she used a gilded bowl and made a taller arrangement of golden chrysanthemums, garden phlox, purple coneflowers, verbena, and greenery. She enjoyed every minute of the task.

“You’ve a gift, Nora!” Hester praised, which pleased her inordinately.

Margaret carried the first vase up to Helen Upchurch’s apartment, a bright chamber of white and blues. Placing the flowers on the dressing table, Margaret rearranged the pretty vanity set, Helen’s collection of porcelain birds, and a framed miniature on either side of the vase. Stepping back, she admired her work. A great improvement.

Then her attention was drawn to the miniature portrait itself. She picked it up once more and studied the face. Was this the man Helen had hoped to marry? An exceedingly handsome man, if the artist’s brush was accurate. How she would like to pick up a brush once again. It had been too long.

Helen’s voice startled her. “Beautiful, was he not?”

Margaret quickly set the portrait down, stunned and chagrined not only to be caught poking about, but to be alone with Nathaniel’s sister.

Risking a look over her shoulder, she was relieved to find Helen’s eyes trained on the portrait.

“Yes, miss,” she replied, accent warbling. “I’m sorry, miss. I . . .”

Helen waved away her apology. She walked over and reverently picked up the miniature, staring down at the face with an expression both dreamy and pained.

Margaret bobbed a curtsy and quickly slipped from the room.





Margaret sat beside Hester in the servants’ hall that night, lingering together with several others after supper, enjoying the camaraderie and the chance to sit and relax after a long day’s work. Around her, everyone listened with fond amusement as Connor regaled them with tales of his five brothers and younger sister.

“All as ginger-haired as he,” Hester whispered in Margaret’s ear.

Connor said, “The first time I went home in my new clothes after I become a valet, no one would come to the door. My own home and they wouldn’t answer my knock. Turns out my little sister had seen ‘some fine gentleman’ coming up the lane and ran to tell my brothers the bill collector had come to call. I went around the back and found them all huddled in the woodshed, hiding from their own brother!”

Chuckles and grins were exchanged around the room, and Connor beamed a charming smile. Margaret could certainly see why Hester was taken with the young man—as all the maids were.

Lewis had always had that same effect on women, young and old alike.

As Margaret made her way up to her room and prepared for bed, she found herself thinking about him. She recalled the first time she had seen Lewis after his return from Barbados more than two years ago—and the effect he’d had on her. . . .



Margaret glimpsed a tall dark-haired man striding across the ballroom with such confidence, such presence, that all paused to look. The fact that he was heart-stoppingly handsome caused those looks to linger.

“Who is that?” a debutante near her breathed.

Margaret’s friend, Emily Lathrop, followed the direction of their gazes. “That’s Lewis Upchurch. Nathaniel Upchurch’s older brother.”

Margaret had seen Lewis Upchurch in the past, but he had never taken any notice of her. So while she enjoyed the view, she entertained no thoughts of him beyond surprise at seeing him there.

Margaret turned and looked instead for Nathaniel Upchurch. He saw her at the same moment and crossed the ballroom to meet her, a shy smile on his bespectacled face.

She stepped away from the other young ladies to speak with him. “Good evening, Mr. Upchurch. I see your brother is back. I don’t remember your mentioning he planned to return.”

Nathaniel grimaced. “That’s because I didn’t know. Seems Lewis got bored and decided to return to London without my father’s approval.”

“I am sorry to hear it.”

“As was I.” He glanced over at the ladies and gentlemen crowding around Lewis, all eager to greet him. “Though we are alone in that sentiment.”

Margaret and Nathaniel danced together twice after that and then he led her to the punch table for a glass of ratafia.

Lewis appeared at his elbow. “Hello, Nate. Do introduce me to this lovely creature you’re monopolizing.”

Nathaniel hesitated, then turned to oblige him. “Of course. Miss Margaret Macy, my brother, Lewis Upchurch.”

“But we have met before, Mr. Upchurch,” Margaret said. “Though it was more than a year ago. I don’t expect you remember—”

“It can’t be,” Lewis protested. “I would have remembered an exquisite face like yours. Do say you’ll dance with me.”

Never had Lewis Upchurch looked at her with such admiration, such intensity in his warm brown eyes. It was as though he were seeing her for the first time. Perhaps he was. Perhaps he had never really noticed her amid all the other women forever flocking about him like chattering hens.

Unsettled and bemused by his charming flattery, she faltered, “Oh . . . well, of course. If you like.”

It was only a dance, she told herself. Nathaniel did not own her, nor was it even proper for the two of them to dance more than twice together in the same evening. They were not engaged.

Even so, she did not miss the wariness that flashed in Nathaniel’s eyes.

Margaret danced with Lewis twice that night, and at the next ball, and by the next week she allowed him to escort her in to supper in Nathaniel’s stead.

Lewis is better looking, a better dancer, more confident, and more exciting, she justified to herself, overwhelmed by the astounding fact that the man everyone wanted, wanted her.



With a sigh, Margaret rolled over in her attic bed, wondering yet again why his interest had not lasted.





In the morning, when the staff again assembled for morning prayers, Lewis Upchurch stood in the hall between his brother and sister for the first time. Lewis, Hester had told her, would be returning to London that very afternoon. He had spent only a few days at Fairbourne Hall, but did plan to return soon. This last word had made Hester’s eyes sparkle and brought dimples to her cheeks.

Nathaniel opened the book, then hesitated. He turned to his brother and offered it to him. Lewis waved the offer away, indicating Nathaniel should continue.

Nathaniel did so. He read a brief Scripture and prayed. Margaret liked that instead of reading a prayer by rote every morning, he often uttered prayers of his own invention, crafted in the moment evidently, judging by the screwing up of his face, the occasional pauses, and false starts. Mr. Arnold denounced him a poor cleric. But Nathaniel’s earnest informality in prayer, though in little else, reminded Margaret of her father, also denounced a poor cleric by many. Though not by her.

When Mr. Upchurch lifted his head to dismiss them, Lewis stepped forward before he could do so.

“Just a brief announcement . . .” Lewis began.

Beside her, Fiona stiffened in anticipation and Thomas quietly groaned.

“You are probably not aware, but today is Miss Upchurch’s birthday. She will ask for no gift for herself and tells me she only wishes that everyone would, in her words, ‘be happy and get along.’ ” He shot Nathaniel a telling look, then grinned at his sister. Helen met his glance with a wary one of her own, clearly unsure of his plan.

“In that spirit, and in her honor, I have asked Mr. Hudson to give all of you a half day—this very afternoon, to spend as you please.”

Gasps and exclamations of surprise and delight swept through the assembly. Nathaniel and Helen Upchurch, Margaret noticed, looked as surprised as the rest. Did Lewis not realize what he was doing? How was his sister to enjoy even a decent birthday supper if the entire staff was off duty?

But Helen beamed up at her brother. “That is an excellent notion, Lewis. I could ask for nothing better for my birthday.”

Mrs. Budgeon looked far less pleased. Concerned no doubt about what would be left undone, who would prepare dinner for the staff, not to mention the family, and a whole host of other tasks. She glanced at Mr. Hudson, perhaps seeking an empathetic grimace, but Mr. Hudson rubbed his hands together like a young boy anticipating a treat. The housekeeper rolled her eyes.

Cheerful chatter arose from the staff as they departed in twos and threes like chirpy robins in springtime, talking among themselves, laughing, joking, and hurrying to finish their remaining duties in record time. Only Hester looked deflated. Margaret glanced at Connor and was surprised to see him glaring at his master. Then she understood. For Connor would be leaving with Lewis and unable to share in the afternoon’s pleasure.