Abby Grahame - Wentworth Hall

“Oh!” Lila answered, plopping down an ace.

“It’s nice to see you two having fun,” Lady Darlington said as she walked into the parlor. She nooded hello to Jessica, who was scribbling away in her journal in the corner of the room.

“Yes, Teddy has taught me the most diverting game,” Lila said. Though secretly she was a bit bored. “Would you like to take over my hand, Mother? I think I’d like to take a nap before supper.”

“If Teddy doesn’t mind, I’d love to,” her mother answered.

“I don’t mind in the least, Lady Darlington,” Teddy answered smoothly.

Lila realized that in the past it might have bothered her that Teddy didn’t seem to mind her absence. Now she was glad of it. Lila headed upstairs for her “nap,” but ran into Nora, who was busily plumping the cushions in one of the guest rooms.

“Nora,” Lila said, “just the girl I wanted to see.” Maybe Nora would have some insight into why her feelings for Teddy had simply disappeared.

Nora continued plumpling the cushions, seemingly lost in thought.

“Nora?” Lila said again. “Noraaa!”

“Oh! Miss Lila.” Nora put the cushion down, momentarily flustered. “I didn’t hear you.”

“You’re very distracted today, Nora,” Lila observed. “Is something on your mind?”

“Well, now that you mention it, yes, there is.” She walked over to the bed and began fixing the pillows.

“You can’t just say that without telling me what’s distracting you!” Lila exclaimed after several more minutes had passed in silence.

“I didn’t want to burden you with it is all,” Nora replied as she continued her duties.

“Burden me with what? For Heaven’s sake, Nora, come out with it!”

Nora hesitated before replying. Lila wondered if Nora had discovered the same secret she had—about Michael and Maggie. Part of her hoped so, she was dying to talk to someone about it, but knew she could never reveal it to anyone herself. It could ruin Maggie forever.

“It’s just that I’m worried about my job here at the estate,” Nora admitted.

“Why would you worry about that?” Lila asked, genuinely surprised. Nora had grown up at Wentworth Hall. Lila couldn’t imagine the place without her.

Nora sighed heavily and turned to face Lila. “I shouldn’t tell you this and I wouldn’t want to get Therese in trouble.”

“Tell me!” Lila implored. Though she wasn’t sure she really wanted to hear. After learning about Maggie and Michael, Lila had enough trouble to think about. Lila felt pangs of guilt for judging Maggie so harshly. What she’d taken for coldness was all a mask for the suffering and loneliness she had to be feeling. What a curse to be hopelessly in love with someone she could never have all because of an accident of birth.

“All right, since you insist, I’ll tell you.” Nora’s voice brought Lila back to the conversation at hand. “Therese found a letter from your father’s lawyer in London and it seemed to mean that your father is selling off pieces of the estate. That means that things must be pretty bad around here. If they’re that bad, I could get the sack any day now.”

Lila felt her heart drop, alarmed by Nora’s words. Could their finances really be that dire? “Are you sure Therese really found a letter like that?”

Nora reached into her apron pocket and produced a letter addressed to the family solicitor. “She gave it to me.”

Lila took the letter and quickly perused it. “I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Lila told Nora as she strode toward the door. “Wait right here.”

“Don’t say it was me who showed you the letter,” Nora requested. “Or Therese either.”

“I won’t,” Lila promised. Her father couldn’t sell off Wentworth Hall piece by piece. What was he thinking? It couldn’t be true. And if there were rumors flying around that he was doing this, it was almost as bad. Their reputations would be ruined.

Lila knew she’d find her father in his study on the fifth floor of the west wing at this time of day and headed straight to it. Rapping on his door, she didn’t wait to be admitted but walked right in. “Father, is it true that you’re selling off pieces of the estate?”

“Where did you hear such a thing?” Lord Darlington asked, looking up from the financial ledger book he’d been poring over.

Lila hesitated, not prepared with an answer. “I can’t say. But I heard it.”

Her father caught her in a concerned stare. Neither of them spoke. Lila was at a loss for what to say next and guessed that her father was also considering what to say before saying it.

“It’s not true,” Lord Darlington said at last.

She showed him the letter Nora had given her. “I found this,” she fibbed. “If it isn’t so, what does this mean?”

Lord Darlington glanced at the letter. “I can’t imagine you found that letter lying about the house. We will have to have a talk about you being too old to be snooping around my study playing whatever silly game girls your age play. In the meantime, let me put your fears to rest. I wanted our solicitor to handle an insurance reevaluation for me. I requested that he get some up-to-date prices on our art and parts of our property so that our insurance would reflect the current replacement value.”

Lila’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I knew it couldn’t be,” she gushed. “I just had to hear it from you.”

“You needn’t worry, Lila. The Darlingtons may not enjoy the wealth of yesterday, but we are far from destitute.”

Fighting the impulse to throw her arms around her father, a familiarity that always made him uneasy, Lila smiled at Lord Darlington. “Thank you for being frank with me, Father,” she said. “I was so concerned.”

“Don’t think about it for another moment,” Lord Darlington said. “Now, if you will leave me to double-check these estate expenditures.”

“Of course.”

Lila hurried back to her bedroom to give Nora the good news. “It’s all fine. It’s all something or other about having proper insurance. There’s no cause to worry.”

“That’s wonderful,” Nora said happily. “Thank you for finding out, Miss Lila.” As Nora crossed to the desk near the window to pick up the soiled laundry, she looked out. “Did you know your brother was coming home?”

Lila ran to the window to see for herself. A slim, handsome young man with blond hair so like the pale shade of their mother’s had emerged from the passenger side of a shiny motorcar with large, narrow white tires and no roof. The driver was a young man of the same age, a little shorter than Teddy but still quite tall. His honey-blond hair caught the sunlight and made him look quite dashing. She wouldn’t call him handsome, exactly. He wasn’t polished like Teddy or even Wes. But what was really remarkable was his laugh. She could hear it even from here! Lila liked this fellow instantly.

Wesley had spent the early part of the summer in the United States with his American friend Ian who was also studying in Oxford. The driver must be Ian. She’d assumed Wesley was going directly back to school from America but was delighted that he hadn’t.

Not wasting another moment by the window, Lila bounded out of the room and ran all the way down to the first floor. She encountered Wesley and his friend as they were coming in the front door, suitcases in hand.

“Wes!” she greeted him with a happy shout. “Do Father and Mother expect you? They didn’t tell me you were coming.”

Wesley set his suitcase down and hugged her warmly. “Look at you!” he cried, taking her by the shoulders and studying her. “All grown up since I last saw you. You look smashing, Lila!”

Lila felt herself blush as she basked in the warmth of his praise. Wesley turned to his friend. “Ian, this is my little sis I’ve been telling you about, only she’s looking a lot older than the last time she and I were together.”

Ian stepped forward and extended his hand. Somehow Lila knew he meant to shake rather than kiss her hand and she pumped it enthusiastically. “Ian Martin,” he introduced himself. “Glad to meet you, Lila.”

“Glad to meet you,” Lila echoed, grinning. His hand was warm and strong and he had a pleasant, open face.

“Is Maggie around?”

“I think she went out for a walk.”

“Where are Mother and Father?” Wesley asked.

“Father’s in his study and Mother is in the parlor with our houseguests, the Fitzhughs.”

“Set your suitcase down, Ian. The butler will get it,” Wesley said.

Ian gazed around the foyer, clearly awed by it. “Better stick close to me, you two. I could get lost in a place this gigantic.”

“Your place in Newport was this big,” Wesley said.

“Not by half,” Ian disagreed. “This is a palace.”

Percival the head butler greeted them and Wesley requested that the rest of Ian’s and his luggage be brought in. “You can put Mr. Martin’s things in the guest bedroom next to mine,” he instructed.

“Very good, sir.” In minutes Percival enlisted two butlers to bring in the rest of the bags. Percival himself carried several issues of a newspaper. “These were on the floor of the car, sir. What would you like me to do with them?”

“Thanks, Percival,” Wesley said. “I’ll take those.”

“Why are you keeping those old papers?” Lila asked.

“They’re part of the reason I came home. I want to talk to Father about them. See for yourself.” Wesley took the top paper and set the rest of them at his feet. Quickly flipping through it, he soon found what he’d been searching for and handed the open paper to Lila.

Not sure what she was looking at, Lila began to read aloud. “The Worthless Saga,” she said. “This sounds funny.” But as she scanned the article, her eyes widened with horror. “Wes, this is about us!”

“I think that’s a pretty safe guess,” Wesley agreed.

Lila’s head was reeling with disbelief. Was she the character they called Doodles? She had to be! Constantly overlooked, forgotten about! How completely humiliating! How mortifying! This was horrible!

“Who could have written this?” Lila asked.

“I have no idea,” Wesley replied. “But one thing is clear enough: The author of this is someone living here at Wentworth Hall.”

Therese stood by the kitchen window watching Michael and Maggie talking out on the path. Was Maggie crying? From this distance it was hard to tell. Therese was the one who should be crying after the way Maggie had spoken to her that morning. She didn’t feel like crying though. Instead, she was more curious to see what was going on outside.

Today’s walk had confirmed the suspicions that had been forming in her mind from the first moment she laid eyes on Michael. Seeing him up close and then experiencing Maggie’s rage at the sight of him with the baby and Therese had cast away all doubts. What she suspected was true. It seemed every generation of Darlington had secrets to answer for.

Couldn’t Michael see it? Was it her duty as his friend to point it out? It didn’t seem fair that the upper classes could keep secrets to protect themselves, regardless of how it hurt other people. She knew all too well the pain of that.

“Therese,” Mrs. Howard’s voice cut through her reverie. “Where is James?”

“He is in his crib, Madame,” Therese answered. “He naps at this hour. I thought to slip away for a moment or two.”

“Good, then join us upstairs in the dining room,” Mrs. Howard commanded. “I need to address the entire staff.”