Free Autumn Rain by Anita Mills

the hovering maid—"I have changed my mind—Lady Kingsley will wear it pinned up."
    "Aye, my lord."
    "And the pearls are wrong also. I'd thought perhaps they denoted innocence, but now I merely think them plain. Daggett!"
    "Aye, my lord?"
    "Fetch the cases. I cannot abide insipidity, and she looks insipid, don't you think?"
    The valet did not even look at her. "Your taste is always impeccable, sir."
    "Just so." The old man leaned back, pressing his fingertips together as he continued to survey Elinor. "Had I to do it over, I should have chosen a darker shade for the gown, I think, but you look presentable enough for tonight. Should it be emeralds—or is that too much green, I wonder?" he mused more to himself than to anyone. "Or perhaps the topazes."
    "The diamonds—?" Daggett dared to suggest.
    "No. No—not yet. It's a country party. I'd save the diamonds for London."
    She felt like a thing standing before him. "I like the pearls," she declared stubbornly. "I think them lovely."
    He favored her with a look usually reserved for fools. "You are a schoolgirl no longer, Elinor," he told her coldly. "Every gown or jewel you wear, every word you speak—your merest misstep—will reflect on me. I should not wish to be pitied for elevating you."
    She stiffened. Elevating her? She was daughter to a baron whose title was far less dubious than his own. For a moment, she wanted to tell him so, then bit back the words.
    "You are quite wise, my dear," he murmured. "I require obedience in all things." He looked up at his valet. "The emeralds would favor her hair, but the topazes would show her eyes to advantage. What do you think— which will it be?"
    "The topazes do not set off the green gown."
    "Quite right. Perhaps the bronze taffeta..." His voice trailed off speculatively.
    "I like the green, my lord," she managed through clenched teeth.
    "Mary, fetch the bronze, if you please," Kingsley ordered, ignoring Elinor.
    Sensing that he played some sort of game, one where only he knew the rules, she was at a loss. "Please, my lord—this is the loveliest gown I have ever owned."
    "Please what?"
    She blinked, unable to follow him. "What?"
    He sighed expressively. "My dear, you will make me think I have wed an imbecile." With an effort, he heaved himself up from the chair, and leaning on his cane, he walked toward her. "Do you always stand like that?"
    "Like what?"
    "Mary, on the morrow you will put her into a corset board."
    "What? Naught's wrong with my posture!"
    "Only for the days," he decided. "Just a precaution, my dear. I'd not have it said that Lady Kingsley's shoulders are rounded." Turning to the maid, he told her, "See that she wears the bronze—and pin up her hair. Daggett will ready the topazes for you."
    "Aye, my lord," the valet answered promptly.
    "Arthur," Elinor tried one last time. "I don't want to wear the bronze! The green—"
    "I cannot abide tantrums, my dear." Favoring his left leg, the old man walked to the door. Without looking back, he added, "And when you are made presentable, Elinor, you will come to my chamber that we may go down together."
    "We ain't got much time, my lady," Mary murmured, reaching for the hooks on the green gown.
    "I wanted to wear this!"
    The maid clucked sympathetically. "If ye was wanting to do that, mebbe ye oughta said it was the bronze ye favored. He alius has his way, ye know. It's the master as decides everything," she declared.
    Elinor wanted to scream her vexation, but it would serve nothing to take out her anger on the maid. And certainly her papa would not understand. As Mary pulled her dress over her head, the girl's temper faded in the face of defeat. On the morrow, her whole family would be going, and she would be left in Kingsley's house with Kingsley's servants, at the mercy of her elderly husband. An almost terrifying chill seemed to encircle her heart. She would be alone.

CHAPTER 6
    To Elinor, if Cornwall were thin of company after Christmas, the crowd belied it.