Bound By A Scandalous Secret

A soft knock sounded at the door. Before Genna could respond, Anna opened the door and poked her head in.

She paused in surprise. ‘Good morning, miss. I thought you would still be sleeping.’

Genna smiled. ‘The sun woke me.’ She closed the sketchbook and gestured to the window. ‘Is it not a beautiful day?’

‘It is, indeed, miss.’ Anna entered the room and placed a fresh towel by the pitcher and basin Genna had used since a child. ‘Mr Jeffers sent one of the stable boys with a message to Tinmore Hall.’

‘That should relieve Lorene’s mind.’ Genna swung back to the window. ‘How I would like it if I had my half-boots with me. I would love to be outside.’ Even if she had her watercolours and brushes with her, she could paint the scene below and include all the colours she found in the white snow. That would bring equal pleasure.

She gazed out of the window again, wishing she were galloping across the snow-filled fields. On a grey horse, perhaps. Held by a grey-coated gentleman.

She turned away with a sigh. ‘I suppose I might as well wash up. Then you can help me dress.’

Anna also arranged her hair in a simple knot atop her head.

When she was done, Genna stood. ‘I might see if Lorene is awake yet.’ She turned to Anna and filled with emotion again. ‘I do not know when I will see you again.’ She hugged Anna. ‘I shall miss you!’

Anna had tears in her eyes when Genna released her. ‘I shall miss you, too, miss. We all miss you.’

Genna swallowed tears of her own. ‘I will contrive to visit if I can.’

She left the room, knowing she was unlikely to see it again, ever, and knocked on Lorene’s door.

Lorene was alone in the room seated in one of the chairs. Doing nothing but thinking, Genna supposed.

‘How did you sleep?’ Genna asked.

‘Quite well,’ Lorene responded. Of course, Lorene would respond that way no matter what.

‘Anna told me a messenger was sent to Tinmore Hall,’ Genna assured her.

Lorene merely nodded.

Genna wanted to shake her, shake some reaction, some emotion from her, something besides worry over what Lord Tinmore would think, say, or do. She wanted her sister the way she used to be.

‘Shall we go down to breakfast?’ Genna asked.

Lorene rose from her chair. ‘If you like.’

They made their way to the green drawing room where breakfast was to be served. Lord Penford sat at the table, reading a newspaper. He looked startled at their entrance and hastily stood.

‘Good morning,’ he said stiffly. ‘I did not expect you awake so early.’

‘We are anxious to return to Tinmore Hall,’ Lorene said.

‘Yes,’ Penford said. ‘I imagine you are.’

‘I am not so eager to return,’ Genna corrected. ‘I have enjoyed my visit to our old home immensely.’ She looked over the sideboard where the food was displayed. ‘Oh, look, Lorene. Cook has made porridge! It has been ages and ages since I’ve tasted Cook’s porridge!

Becker, one of the footmen, attended the sideboard. Lorene made her selections, including porridge, and was seated next to Lord Penford at the small round breakfast table.

Becker waited upon Genna next, placing a ladle of oatmeal into a bowl for her. She added some cheeses, bread and jam.

‘Thank you, Becker.’ She smiled at him as he carried her plate to the table and seated her opposite her sister.

Penford sat as well although he did not look at either of them. ‘I trust you slept well.’

Lorene hesitated for a moment before answering, ‘Very well, sir.’

‘Fabulously well!’ added Genna. ‘Like being at home.’

Lorene shot her a disapproving look, before turning to Penford. ‘It was a kindness to put us in our old rooms.’

He glanced down at his newspaper. ‘The housekeeper’s decision, I am sure.’

Goodness! Could he be more sullen? ‘I hope you did not disapprove.’

He shot her a surprised look. ‘Why would I disapprove?’

She merely answered with a smile.

Why had he invited them if he seemed to take no pleasure in the visit? Unless his main purpose was to curry favour with Tinmore. If so, Genna was glad Tinmore had not accompanied them. Well, she was glad Tinmore had not accompanied them, no matter what Penford thought. Perhaps if Penford had been a more generous man, he might have left his cousins in the house to manage it in his absence. He might have come to their rescue instead of tossing them out of the only home they’d ever known and forcing Lorene to make that horrible marriage.

Lorene broke in. ‘The porridge is lovely. Just as I remembered it.’

Penford’s voice deepened. ‘I am glad it pleases you.’ He put down his paper and darted Lorene a glance. ‘I sent a man to Tinmore Hall early this morning. The roads are passable. You may order your coach at any time.’

He was in a hurry to be rid of them, no doubt.

‘Might we have the carriage in an hour?’ Lorene asked this so tentatively one would think she was asking for the moon instead of what Penford was eager to provide.

‘Certainly.’ Penford nodded towards Becker, who bowed in reply and left the room to accomplish the task.

Genna sighed and dipped her spoon into the porridge. She’d hoped to see Lord Rossdale one more time, but likely he was still galloping over the fields.

The rest of the breakfast transpired in near silence, except for the rattle of Lord Penford’s newspaper and the bits of conversation exchanged between Genna and Lorene. Genna used the time to think about the house. Her time away had seemed to erase it as her home. Leave the place to the dour Lord Penford. Her life here was gone for ever. More of its memories had been captured in her sketchbook, but she had no confidence that it would ever return to her possession. Likely she would not even see Rossdale again.

* * *

When it came time for them to leave, the servants gathered in the hall to bid them goodbye, just as they had done when Genna and her sisters first removed to Tinmore Hall. This time the tears did not fall freely, although many bid them farewell with a damp eye. Lorene shook their hands. Genna hugged each of them. Lord Penford stood to the side and Genna wondered if he felt impatient for them to depart.

When the coach pulled up to the front, Penford walked outside with them, without greatcoat, hat, or gloves. One of the coachmen helped Genna climb into the coach.

Lord Penford took Lorene’s hand to assist her.

Lorene turned to him, but lowered her lashes. ‘Thank you, sir, for inviting us and for putting us up for the night.’ She lifted her eyes to him.

For a moment Penford seemed to hold her in place. He finally spoke. ‘My pleasure.’ He’d never seemed to experience pleasure from their visit. ‘I shall remember your music.’