Page 3 of A Wallflower's Christmas Wreath
Her life played out before her through the blurred vision of her bedding. A life of toil, of becoming a maid or cook in a great house like where one of her long-lost friends lived. Of waking early morning and retiring late in the evening to make another's life easy.
How had she allowed her life to become so hard?
Heidi rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling where the paint had started to flake off. Well, she may not be able to change her fate, but she’d be damned before she would allow the uppity Lord Levinstone to get away with acting the selfish prig.
He would get a piece of her opinion on his dealings and his blatant thievery from his neighbors, and she would not sleep until she had her voice heard.
Jumping from her bed, she clasped her shawl and bonnet and, with determined steps, started downstairs and outside, slamming her gate shut before walking toward the great house.
It was time Lord Matthew Stanford, Viscount Levinstone, was brought down a peg or two, and she would relish being the one to do it.
Matthew slumped backinto his leather wingback chair and threw the short missive from Mr. Jones onto his desk. He cringed and rubbed a hand over his brow, already feeling the telltale signs of an impending headache.
He sighed, having not known that Mr. Jones had bestowed on his house all the pigs for his ball tomorrow evening, leaving none for the locals.
Well, one local in particular. Miss Heidi Lewis, his once closest friend, now his adversary.
He could picture her now, blowing fire out of her pretty nose, her plump lips pulled into a displeased line.
Matthew ran a hand through his hair, glad at least that his sister was not here this year for his annual ball, having decided to remain in Scotland with her husband, the Earl of Grandison.
She would not have been pleased that his household had taken all the pigs and would have demanded he return some, but how could he? He already knew his cooks were preparing and baking them for tomorrow night's dinner and ball. He would have, of course, had he known the butcher had played such a hand, and would have stopped the order, but it was done now. He would merely have to ensure it did not happen next year.
The wind picked up, and one of the shutters on a front-facing window slammed against the glass. Matthew walked over to the window, opened it, and, grabbing the shutters, pulled and locked them closed. He then rang for a servant, and his butler entered with haste.
"You called, my lord?"
"Yes, there looks to be a storm rolling in from the sea. Please have all the shutters closed so no windows are damaged, and notify the stables to bring in all the horses for the night."
"Yes, my lord," Smithers said, leaving to do his bidding.
Matthew strode over to the fire and threw two more logs on the already-stoked blaze, a dropping chill in the air warning that a storm was brewing.
The sound of unrelenting knocks on his front door made the pit of his stomach drop before the windswept, high-of-color Miss Heidi Lewis stormed into his library with burning, angry eyes, and a finger jabbing dangerously in his direction.
"How dare you— You … you … intolerable, selfish man. How dare you take all the pigs for your gluttonous friends and family? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, and if you think I shall allow you to get away with this, you are mistaken. I'm going to let everyone in town know what a greedy little lord you are, and believe me, Levinstone, you will have zero friends when I'm finished with you."
A crack of thunder rumbled in the sky, making himself and Miss Lewis start. Footsteps sounded in the foyer, up and down the stairs, and Matthew did not have time to reply before the butler entered a second time. "My lord, this storm coming in from the ocean seems fierce and sudden indeed. I fear we're about to get a drenching, and it could make traveling to and from the village impossible."
Matthew looked to Heidi, understanding his butler's words exactly, and the last thing he needed was the termagant before him being caught here. "Excuse me, but what are you saying?" Miss Lewis asked, dabbing at her rain-covered face with a handkerchief. "I just walked through the causeway, and it wasn’t flooded," she said.
A servant ran into the library and passed the butler a note. "Not anymore, Miss Lewis. I just received word young Buckley barely made it through bringing your mare in from the top paddock, my lord. It's rushing through and rising quickly." His butler paused. "You are stuck here, Miss Lewis, for this evening."
"What?" Both he and Miss Lewis said in unison. "She has to leave. She's a maid, and I'm unmarried, and there is no one here to chaperone her," he argued.
Miss Lewis scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Do not think you'll tempt me, my lord. I would rather try my luck out in the storm than be seduced by the likes of you."
He stared at her, wondering if that were true, but then decided to ignore her jibe entirely. "Prepare Miss Lewis a room," he said, glaring at her. "It seems you're here for the duration of the evening and let us hope no longer."
Two
Heidi was led into a large, opulent room upstairs. A maid came in, and within minutes a roaring fire replaced the dark, unlit hearth that greeted her.
She strolled about the space, running her hand across the deep-green bedding and the multiple cushions. Did people of great wealth really need all those cushions to sleep? Hers at home held one, and not as fluffy as all those.
Several books sat on the bedstand, and she slumped onto the bed as a maid lit the sconces on the wall and several candles on the mantle and furniture.
Within minutes the room was welcome and warm, fighting off the chill from the storm that raged with ever-increasing ferocity outdoors. Perhaps the causeway was flooded, and she was stuck here. Although she could see his lordship lying about such facts, if only to ruin her, she could not see the servants doing so. Not when a lot of them were her friends and people she had known since she was a child.
