A Perilous Secret

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by Jane Wetherby


  Colonel Strickland.

  His face had filled my dreams as I slept that night. The sound of his voice chimed in my mind. We had only a brief meeting, but that had been enough to convince me of the depth of his soul, and that he, unlike other men, had substance and value much more well defined than others.

  Not only that, but he was so handsome that it made me feel like a little girl again, fawning over the young men in town with pretty ladies on their arms, dreaming of a day when I, too, could have that sort of happiness.

  I was up and dressed, wearing the dress that the seamstress had left for me, when I heard the knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I said, turning in the chair at the writing desk.

  Mrs. Bower entered the room, and she looked all around until her eyes fell upon me. “Upon my word… You are already awake and dressed.”

  “Well, of course,” I said, getting to my feet. “Is that so unusual?”

  “Well, certainly, as you are likely the first and only soul up at this hour,” she said, bustling into the room with fresh linens in her arms. “I came to wake you so I could help you prepare for the day. Breakfast shall be served at half past ten, and then I believe that Lady Hayward has plans for you for the day.”

  “Plans?” I asked. “What sort of plans?”

  “Of that I am not privy, Miss,” she said. “But I do know that you do not have to be awake quite so early in the future. If you feel as if you wish to lie in longer, then you certainly should. The Lady Voss shall certainly not be rising any earlier than ten, especially after such a long night last night.”

  Getting up so late seemed so strange to me, especially when I was used to rising with the sun. There were chores to be done, breakfast to be made, chicken coops to sweep and eggs to bring indoors…

  Revealing that much about myself, however, was not only unwise but also unnecessary.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bower,” I said. “I should not like you to feel put out because of my thoughtlessness.”

  “Do not be so hard on yourself, Miss,” Mrs. Bower said, coming to fix the blankets on my bed. She straightened and tucked, making it appear as perfect as it had been before I had unmade it all the night before. “It is no imposition if a lady wishes to dress herself. But know that I am here to help you in the future.”

  “I do appreciate it,” I said. “And… what do you think of my hair this morning?” I asked, touching the small, golden pin that Aunt Patience had given me the night before to wear to the dinner party. “Is it too gaudy for everyday wear?”

  “Oh, not at all, Miss,” Mrs. Bower said, regarding the pin with great interest. “I find it rather lovely. It makes the blue of your eyes really stand out.”

  I smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Bower.”’

  She smoothed the last of the wrinkles from my bed before straightening once more. “Well, if that is all, Miss, I shall go and wake the Lady Hayward. I am certain she will be quite ready for breakfast.”

  “I know I most certainly am,” I said, realizing just how hungry I was.

  “Half past ten, Miss,” she said. “I shall come and fetch you.”

  Breakfast was a much simpler affair than the night before. Aunt Patience, Uncle Charles and I all ate some fruits, bread, and cheeses brought to us by the chef. Lord Voss joined us at the very end, enthusiastically praising the festivities of the night before. He looked rested and happy and did not stay long with us. Insisting he had business to attend to elsewhere, he bid us goodbye and promised to see us for dinner that evening.

  Lady Voss did not join us at all.

  “Well, Miss Amelia, I thought that we could begin our day down in town getting you fitted for some new dresses,” Aunt Patience said with a smile at me across the table. “How does that sound?”

  My face flooded with color. “But ma’am, I do not know how I shall pay for these new dresses.”

  “My dear, never you worry,” Uncle Charles said. “We shall be providing you with the dresses.”

  “But surely there must be something I can do for them?” I asked. “You are both very gracious to have taken me here to Bath with you, but to also buy me these very expensive dresses…”

  Aunt Patience shook her head. “As I have said, my dear, we never had daughters of our own. And we cherish you and your sisters. Can you not allow us this one gift to you so that we may help you to find a proper match? We do it just as much for your father as we do it for you.”

  I withheld my retort, knowing that she spoke the truth. “I do not mean to be ungrateful,” I said in a quiet voice.

  “I never thought you were, my dear,” Aunt Patience said. “In fact, I do not think we could bestow our gift upon a more deserving recipient.”

  After we finished breakfast, Aunt Patience and I said goodbye to Uncle Charles, who seemed all too pleased to have the afternoon to read and spend some time in the study of number eleven, and we set off with the carriage through Bath.

  The town was bustling with people who all seemed to be heading somewhere important. All the ladies were dressed in such fine dresses, their hats adorned with ribbons, and parasols laying gracefully against their shoulders, spinning in the bright spring sunlight.

  The gentlemen were just as dashing with their top hats and freshly laundered shirts and coats, their shoes with gold and silver buckles polished handsomely.

  “Ah, yes, I heard from Lady Michaels last night that Lord and Lady Steele were also staying at the Paragon, number four,” she said. “And it seems that Sir Yates and his Lady are down a street, closer to the river.”

  All of these names meant very little to me, but it struck me just how many people Aunt Patience was connected with. If my sisters and I would have wished to have any sort of relation, I was utterly convinced now that Aunt Patience was the very best we could have.

  The carriage pulled down another street, out of the sunlight, the horses’ hooves clattering against the cobblestones beneath them. This street was lined with shops, the signs fluttering in the breeze that blew down between the buildings on either side.

  “Here we are,” Aunt Patience said as the carriage pulled to a stop in front of a small shop beside what appeared to be a bakery.

  The footman helped us from the carriage and promised to be back to pick us up in two hours’ time. Aunt Patience thanked him, and they set off once more.

  Aunt Patience started toward the door, and I looked up at the sign hanging above it.

  Madam Bella, Seamstress. There was a small spool of thread carved into the sign, painted black beside the swirling letters.

  Upon entering, everything smelled of warm silk and fresh dyes. There walls were lined with brightly-colored fabrics on large spools, and in the center, there sat a table filled with a larger ribbon selection than I had ever seen.

  “Good afternoon,” said the woman at the back, who rose to her feet and set down the bright red ribbon she was swirling around a wooden spool. “How may I help you?”

  “Are you Mrs. Crauford?” Aunt Patience asked, stepping up to her.

  “Why, yes, I am,” she said with a broad smile across her rather plump face.

  “I am Lady Hayward. I believe my friend, Lady Michaels, referred us to you? You made this lovely piece for my niece,” she said, gesturing to the pale green dress I wore.

  Mrs. Crauford’s eyes widened as they fell upon the dress. “Oh, yes, indeed. I hardly recognized my humble work on a young lady with such beauty.”

  She walked around the counter and came to examine the dress more closely, walking all the way around me. “Yes, it certainly seems to fit, yet it could do with some taking in. Especially here, along your waist. And your legs are much longer than I accounted for. Just a tad more fabric near the hem, and it shall be perfect.”

  “Indeed,” Aunt Patience said. “We would also like you to make a few other new dresses for her.”

  “Certainly,” Mrs. Crauford said, pulling a blank piece of parchment toward herself along with a corked bottle of ink. “For what o
ccasion will I be making this dress?”

  Aunt Patience looked sidelong at me. “Well, let me think… I should think two morning dresses, perhaps a promenade dress… Certainly two or three evening gowns and one ball gown. I believe that should be sufficient for our stay here in Bath.”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded. That many dresses? I had thought perhaps two, maybe three at the most. I already had the new one I was wearing. Yet, here she was, ordering perhaps a half a dozen of these dresses, not to mention a proper ball gown among them.

  “Yes, all right,” Mrs. Crauford said, scrawling down the last of her notes onto the parchment. “I shall see to it. Now, step through this door, my dear, and we shall begin your fitting.”

  Aunt Patience followed after us as we entered the next room. It was much smaller than the front shot, with one wall holding three, tall, slender mirrors around a raised dais.

  “Come stand up here,” Mrs. Crauford said, gesturing me toward the dais. “And I shall begin to collect your measurements.”

  “When do you think these dresses will be done?” Aunt Patience asked.

  “Oh, by the end of the week, to be sure,” Mrs. Crauford said. “Shall I have them sent to you? Or would you like to come pick them up?”

  “I shall leave you the address we are staying at,” Aunt Patience said. “In the meantime, I believe I shall have to pick out one of the dresses you already have made for her so that she has something to get by until then.”

  “Not to worry, your Ladyship,” Mrs. Crauford said, her round cheeks rosy as she smiled. “I shall alter one of her dresses as soon as I am finished with her measurements, if you had other shopping to complete, that is.”

  “Very good,” Aunt Patience said. “That would be lovely.”

  The woman was deft as she quickly stretched a length of rope along my arms, around my waist, and down the length of my legs. It was rather obtrusive, but that was only because Isabella and Juliana were the only ones who had ever taken my measurements in the same sort of way.

  “There we are,” she said. “All taken. I shall copy this down on my ledger and allow you ladies to pick out the fabrics you would like the dresses made from. I have all manner of the latest colors and styles, including a lovely muslin that I just received last week, as well as a crepe that is as soft as silk. Come, let me show you.”

  She left us to look around the front of the shop after Aunt Patience chose a soft ivory for my promenade dress and asked Mrs. Crauford to start on that. “I imagine we will be doing a great deal of walking in the next few days. We may as well have you look the part, yes?”

  “Of course, ma’am,” I said with a dip of my head.

  As we browsed the fabrics, we were left quite alone to our own devices. I found myself drifting toward the prettiest, softest material for a dress, a chiffon that almost seemed to shimmer in the brightness of the afternoon.

  “Well, my dear, I have been meaning to ask you,” Aunt Patience said as she ran a length of silk ribbon between her fingers. “What did you think of the dinner party last night?”

  “Oh,” I said, turning away from the muslin I was admiring. Everything was of such high quality that I felt almost unworthy to touch it. “It was very nice, ma’am.”

  “You had a look like a frightened rabbit through most of the evening,” Aunt Patience said with a small smile. “I feel as if I did not prepare you quite enough for all the excitement.”

  “No, ma’am, you have far outdone yourself in that regard,” I said. “I am simply a rather poor learner, it seems. I thought it best to observe last night, rather than attempt to interject in the conversation and make myself, or you and Sir Hayward, appear rather foolish.”

  “Nonsense, my dear,” Aunt Patience said, walking over to stand beside me. She regarded a pale yellow fabric that was sheer and soft like the feathers of a bird. “You need not be afraid. Many people simply thought you were the quiet type last night, asking after you. I imagine some of those with young men in their families were thinking the same thing that Sir Hayward and I have been; you would make a lovely bride for some happy man.”

  “You are far too kind, dear aunt,” I said.

  “Your uncle tells me that you spent some time in conversation with a young man last night,” Aunt Patience said, her eyebrows arching up her forehead. “And who might that have been?”

  My face became pink at once, and I did my very best to appear very interested in the muslin in varying shades in front of me. “Oh, yes… It was not a great deal of time. Nothing more than a few moments, really.”

  “Who was it?” Aunt Patience asked excitedly.

  I looked over at her, a sheepish smile spreading across my face without my ability to stop it. The fact that I had been reflecting on since the night before swam once more across my thoughts. “Colonel Strickland,” I said.

  Aunt Patience let out a gasp and then laughed, beaming at me. “Colonel Strickland, you say?” she asked. “I had no idea. But of course, he is indeed single, having only left the military a short time ago.”

  My heart skipped a beat, which was rather surprising to me. Not married? Was it even wise to have hope, even a small amount?

  “What did you speak of?” she asked. “Come, I must know.”

  “Well, it was about a painting,” I said. “And as I said, our conversation could not have been more than a few minutes long. It was before Lady Voss asked him to join in the game of cards, and we barely spoke after that as the party began to dwindle.”

  “A painting, you say?” she asked. “Rather simple conversation, to be sure, but—”

  “Surprisingly, dear aunt, it was not simple conversation,” I said. “He seems to be quite knowledgeable about art, and we discussed the finer points of the painting. Not the way it looked but the way the artist meant the viewer to feel upon seeing it,” I said, thinking back to the intensity of his gaze as he stared at the waves the night before. “He was quite insightful.”

  “Colonel Strickland is quite the learned man,” Aunt Patience said. “I must say, I am not entirely unsurprised that you were able to strike up such a conversation with him.” Her gaze became distant as she stared at the fabrics, her eyes unfocused. “To be quite honest, I had some of the other young men at the party last night in mind, but Colonel Strickland would be a fine match, I daresay. Indeed, I daresay he would be an excellent choice.”

  I was suddenly torn between feeling rather excited as well as apprehensive. Were we not simply getting ahead of ourselves?

  “What do you know of him?” I asked, hoping that my voice was steady and calm, knowing my heart fluttering would surely give me away. “What of his temperament?”

  “Oh, he is quite the amiable young man,” she said. “Very agreeable character. He is quite good at keeping the peace between guests, as well as very inclusive to all who are around. That has made him quite popular. Everyone seems to want his ear, as he has great insight into many things. Traveling with the army has given him a greater understanding of culture and social customs, not to mention an air of dignity and refinement that only such diligent behaviors can bring about.”

  These traits all sounded admirable indeed, but they still told me very little about him personally. “Why did he leave the army?” I asked.

  “Of that I am not sure,” Aunt Patience said. “I imagine it must have been because he chose not to reenlist, perhaps hoping to find a young woman to call his wife and start a family with.”

  If that were true, then it seemed that my timing coming to Bath could perhaps not be better.

  “Just imagine it, my dear… marrying a Colonel,” Aunt Patience said. “What honor that would bring to your father. And you would certainly be more than comfortable for the rest of your days. Not to mention that you would surely be attending all the same social functions that dear Sir Hayward and I do. How wonderful, indeed. Yes, I daresay that Colonel Strickland would be a fine match for you, and that if you are able to convince him of your affections, perhaps you shall have a
proposal before we take you home to your father.”

  “Do you really think that could be possible?” I asked.

  “Oh, my dear, there are a great many things that are possible,” Aunt Patience said. “And finding you a husband is certainly one of them.” She giggled. “Oh, when your sister, dear Juliana, was engaged to Mr. Thorne, I thought I could not be happier. I found myself hoping for just as advantageous matches for you and your sisters, and here we are. You could be just as happy as your dear sister is. And so soon upon our arrival.”

  I was suddenly feeling rather faint. This was all happening so fast…

  “Here we are,” came the voice of Mrs. Crauford through the door. “Your dress is all ready.”

  Aunt Patience smiled at me. “And now with an even greater reason to wear such finery. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  I smiled back. “Indeed, ma’am. An even greater reason.”

  7

  Aunt Patience and I made it back to number eleven, the Paragon, just before tea. Laden with more packages than I thought possible, I felt positively full. Happiness was not a strong enough word for how I felt.

  I had chosen to embrace my aunt and her kindness instead of fighting against it. I realized the both of us would be much better if I stopped resisting her offers of gifts. When I realized that she or my uncle were not burdened by me, I found I was much more likely to enjoy myself.

  We found new hats for me, new gloves, and new shoes. I felt as if I was an entirely new woman upon our return to number eleven. I had never dreamed of owning such wonderful, lovely things, and yet here I was, now possessing them.

  “Ah, Lady Hayward,” said Mr. Trent as she and I walked into the foyer, laughing. He stopped and bowed to us. “Lady Voss is having tea and has requested that you and Miss Amelia join her if you were to return in time.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Aunt Patience said as she untied the ribbon of her bonnet. “Come, Miss Amelia. We should not keep good Lady Voss waiting.”

 

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