Page 35 of Venus in Disguise

Ash looked around, only then realising Leo was still muttering.

“Yes,” he replied, taking the second glass of brandy from Pip and treating it much like the first. “Sick to death.”

Pip and Leo exchanged glances. “Who is she?” they asked in unison.

“Bugger off,” Ash replied, irritated that they knew him well enough to understand what the trouble must be. “I’m going to bed.”

“Top of the stairs and turn right, third on the left,” Pip called after him as Ash disappeared.

Narcissa flung open her bedroom window, heedless of the frigid air that blew into her room. Leaning out, she looked down, searching for any escape route, even though she knew it was hopeless. There would be no daring descent via the window, not unless she wanted to break her stupid neck. She might be depressed, but she was too stubborn to give up.

The journey back to Hardacre had been an exercise in self-control as she fought not to cry whilst the train jolted and shuddered and the seat beneath her rubbed her petticoats against the raw skin on her thighs, despite the feather pillow Nancy had provided for her. The duke had seemed amused by her pain and anything resembling affection for him that Narcissa might have held onto had died, alongside any lingering desire to please him… which she now knew it to be impossible.

Now, she did not give a damn what he wanted. She must take back control of her own future, no matter how difficult it was going to be, and she did not underestimate that. The risk she was contemplating was so terrible it made her break out in a cold sweat just to contemplate it, but she had made up her mind.

At least her maid had got the letter to Maud, tracking the woman down just before she had left to go to her new home in Kent. Narcissa could only hope that any sense of regret the woman felt for her part in Narcissa’s misery had prompted her to do what she could to ensure the note found its way to Ash. Perhaps then he would not be displeased to see her again. For she was going to see him again.

She did not know how she would escape Hardacre and go to him, but she was determined to do so. At least then she could explain herself in person, for she owed him that much. After that she did not know what she would do, but perhaps Delia’s brother, Wrexham, would give her shelter until she could arrange something more permanent. Perhaps Fidelia would want to go with her, she mused. Not that she had heard from her, or Alex, since their father had locked her in her room.

The duke had given her no indication of how long she was to be kept there, or of what his plans for her were, but she could guess. If she knew her father, he had told Lord Wishen to arrange a marriage with all haste. It was likely a matter of days before her chances of finding a different way of life disappeared entirely.

Still, she must make plans and so Narcissa began searching through her belongings, hoping to discover something of value. The only thing she could lay her hands on easily were her gowns, but they were hardly portable when one was trying to slip away unnoticed. All her remaining pin money had gone to Nancy, for having taken the letter to Maud. Their mother’s jewellery had all gone to Fidelia, and all Narcissa had worth pawning was a set of pearls. They were very fine, but she did not know how much they would fetch. Still, they were a start.

Dragging a chair over from her dressing table, Narcissa climbed onto to it and reached for a box on the upper shelf. It was heavier than she expected, and she swayed on the chair, jumping down before she fell as the box slipped from her grasp and landed with a thud.

“Devil take you!” she exclaimed crossly.

She stared in dismay as the box of beads and miscellaneous treasures she’d collected as a child exploded over her bedroom floor. With a sigh, she got to her knees to search through the mess, when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Love? It’s Fidelia. Are you all right?”

“Lia?” Narcissa exclaimed at the sound of her sister’s voice. Jumping up, she ran to the door. “Oh, I thought you weren’t speaking to me, either.”

Her sister made an impatient sound that warmed Narcissa’s heart. “Don’t be a silly goose. He’s forbidden us from talking to you. Do you really think we wouldn’t have come to see you otherwise?”

“No, I-I suppose not,” Narcissa admitted. She had seen so little of Fidelia of late, and her sister had been so distant, but she had never been uncaring. “Only I’m so miserable, Lia. I’ve… I’ve made a dreadful mess of things,” she admitted.

Fidelia’s voice was soft, her concern audible even through the door. “What happened, pet?”

“A man happened. Obviously,” Narcissa wailed in despair. “And I don’t care what his grace does to me, I only care that he thinks I’m awful… and I’m not, Lia, not really. Am I?” she added, suddenly less certain of that. She had discovered she was far more afraid of the duke, and of the future, than she had ever realised.

“Of course not, but what exactly—? Hush, someone’s coming. I’ll come back when I can.”

“Lia?” Narcissa called softly, desperately wishing she would not leave her alone.

It would have been so nice to confide her troubles to a sympathetic listener, but she knew Fidelia was even more afraid of their father than she was. Rightly so, as it turned out. For if the duke had treated her as he had treated Narcissa, she could well understand her sister’s behaviour.

Chapter 11

Dear Diary,

I am going to escape. I don’t know how, but I will not fail. Somehow, I must see Mr Anson and tell him how much I admire him. Perhaps, if he can find it in his heart to forgive me – but I dare not think of that.

―Excerpt of a diary entry by Lady Narcissa Ponsonby

10th March 1850, Hardacre Hall, Hardacre, Derbyshire.

Narcissa paced her room, trying to calm her growing sense of unease. She could not see her maid, who had been relegated to working below stairs once more. Not because the duke had discovered the letter—his retribution for that would have been far more severe—but simply because he wished to isolate Narcissa and make her life as miserable as possible.