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The Lady's Maid

By Susan Page Davis

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Chapter one
January, 1855
Stoneford, near London

“Come with me, Elise. I can’t face him alone.”
Lady Anne gripped her hand so hard that Elise Finster winced. She would do anything to make this day easier for her young mistress.
“Of course, my lady, if they’ll let me.”
The two walked down the sweeping staircase together, their silk skirts swishing and the hems of their crinolines nudging each other. Lady Anne kept her hold on Elise’s hand until they reached the high-ceilinged hall below.
Elise paused at the doorway to the morning room and looked at her mistress. Lady Anne said nothing, but straightened her shoulders. A pang of sympathy lanced Elise’s heart, but she couldn’t bear this burden in the young woman’s place. Anne Stone had to face the future herself.
“Good day, ladies.” Andrew Conrad, the Stone family’s aging solicitor, leaped to his feet from the velvet-upholstered sofa and bowed. “Lady Anne, you look charming. Miss Finster.”
Elise murmured, “Hello, sir,” while Lady Anne allowed Conrad to take her hand and bow over it.
From near the window, a tall, angular man walked forward—Anne’s second cousin, Randolph Stone. Ten years older than Anne, the studious man lived in a modest country home with his wife and two young children and eked out a living on the interest of his father’s meager fortune. Elise gritted her teeth, a reaction he always induced in her. With effort on her part, Lady Anne never guessed how much she loathed Randolph.
“Anne.” Stone took his cousin’s hand and kissed it perfunctorily. He nodded in Elise’s direction but didn’t greet her.
“Randolph. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Lady Anne arched her delicate eyebrows at the solicitor.
“Mr. Stone had some questions, and I thought that if he came with me today, I could explain the situation to both of you at once.”
Lady Anne said nothing for a long moment, then nodded.
“Er, if it pleases you, my lady, this is confidential business.” Conrad shot a meaningful glance Elise’s way.
Elise felt her face flush, but held her ground. She wouldn’t leave until Lady Anne told her plainly to do so. Besides, he’d brought along an extra person. Why shouldn’t Lady Anne have that right as well?
“I would like Elise to stay.” The lady smiled, but with a firmness to her jaw befitting the daughter of an earl.
Conrad nodded. “As you wish. Shall we begin, then?”
Lady Anne sat on the upholstered Hepplewhite settee and signaled for Elise to sit beside her. Elise arranged her voluminous skirt and lowered herself, avoiding the direct gaze of Randolph Stone. He didn’t care for her, either, and Elise knew exactly why, but she didn’t believe in letting past discord interfere with the future.
“You must have news,” Lady Anne said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come.”
“That is astute of you, my lady.” Conrad reached inside his coat and brought out an envelope. “I’ve had news that is not really news at all from America.”
“America?” Lady Anne’s tone changed, and she tensed. “Is it my uncle David?”
Conrad sighed and carefully extracted a sheet of coarse rag paper from the envelope. “You are aware, dear lady, that I sent letters the week after your father died, hoping to locate your uncle—that is, David Stone.”
“Earl of Stoneford,” Lady Anne said gently.
“Yes, well, that’s the point, isn’t it?” Conrad sounded tired and the tiniest bit cross, as though he hated being beaten by the Atlantic Ocean and the American postal system. “If your uncle were alive, and if he were here, he would inherit your father’s estate and be acknowledged as Earl of Stoneford, it’s true. But after three months of dilly-dallying, all we have is a letter from the postmaster in St. Louis, Missouri, U.S. of A., declaring that while a Mr. David Stone did reside in the city some ten to fifteen years ago and apparently ran a business at that time, no one by the name of David Stone has been found living there now.”
Anne’s shoulders sagged. “Surely they’re mistaken. The last word we had from him came from there.”
Conrad shook his head. “I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of our resources, my lady. I had that letter a couple of weeks ago stating that the city had no death record for your uncle.”
“That was a relief,” Lady Anne said.
“Yes, but all it tells us is that he did not die in St. Louis. Now, the courts agree on the procedure. The trustees will continue managing your father’s estate, but the peerage will remain dormant until your uncle is either found or proven to be deceased.”
Lady Anne stirred. “And why is Randolph here?”
Conrad sighed. “You cousin is next in the line of succession, provided David Stone is proven dead and does not have a male heir. However, it is my duty to tell you both that those things may be impossible to prove.”
“And the title will stay dormant and the estate unclaimed for how long?”
“As long as it takes.” Conrad brought out a handkerchief and patted at his dewy brow. “There are titles that have been dormant for decades—one for more than a hundred years. It will probably never be claimed.”
“But the estate, the property—”
“The crown may decide to dispose of it in time.”
“Surely not, if Uncle David is still out there.”
“The trustees will not spend your father’s fortune in an attempt to find his heir. If you or Mr. Randolph Stone wants to spend your own money trying, that is your affair.”
Lady Anne and her cousin glanced at each other. Randolph looked away first.
“And my situation is as you indicated previously,” Lady Anne said.
“Yes. You will have the modest fortune your father left to you. The bulk of the estate will remain in trust for the proven heir.”
“Then I cannot stay here any longer.”

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