Not Just Lovely Laura

by Jessica Spencer

  The ball was now four days away. They were at Bond Street because Lady Maria had decided the gown Laura was to wear wouldn’t do at all.

  “Did you see Miss Mew’s gown last night? It wasn’t made well but the material was something I’ve never seen before. It will suit you. I know the exact type of gown we shall order,” she said, leading them into a popular establishment.

  Laura had gained enough confidence to choose her own clothes. She liked the gown that was ready. But she also liked being pampered by Lady Maria. And Lady Maria liked nothing better than to spoil her. Gareth had tried to stop her when she had bought a set of rubies for Laura.

  “It gives me pleasure to spend my money on people I love,” she had answered.

  By ‘my money’ she meant her earnings from the bonnet shop. They were meager in comparison to the substantial income from her inheritance but she valued them much more than the wealth that was her birthright.

  “At last!” Lady Maria exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the bolt of fabric spread in front of her. It was a white jacquard, with fine gold weaving.

  ‘It’s beautiful,” Laura said, fingering the heavy material.

  “It won’t need any adornment except a bit of gold lace.”

  Lady Maria moved to another part of the store, to examine their extensive collection of laces, gold buttons, and braids. By her preoccupied air, Laura guessed she was designing the gown and only the exact accessories would do.

  Gareth was comfortably ensconced in the reception room, perusing a newspaper sheet. To while away the time, Laura started looking at the ready-to-wear gowns. Suddenly, a child darted out of a backroom.

  ***

  The Duke of Wimberley received a disquieting letter from his mother. Mary Jane had been ill for a week. She was better now but made a fuss about eating. She also asked after him. He decided to immediately return to White Willow. He wasn’t making progress in securing a wife. Instead of focusing on the task, his mind had started to wander in what was surely an improper direction. If Gareth knew, he would bar him from his house, and rightly too.

  He summoned his valet. “We leave for White Willow within the hour. Pack a valise for the journey. The rest can follow later.”

  “Your Grace, what about Lady Amelia’s list? Shall I send someone to make the purchases?”

  “Thank you for reminding me, Roberts. My sister will be sorely disappointed if I arrive without the cherished parcels. Which is the best establishment for procuring all those fripperies?”

  “I’m acquainted with one on Bond Street, your Grace. Shall I send the housekeeper?”

  “And have her take half the day! We’ll stop on our way. That will be quicker.”

  ***

  An hour later, Anthony entered a large establishment with Roberts in his wake and was met with a most astounding sight. A young woman was cowering in front of an older woman who looked furious. Laura stood beside her, holding a child by the hand. The older woman raised her arm to strike the woman. Laura grabbed her wrist. She let go only after the woman arranged her features into an ingratiating smile. “You may give the boy to his mother, Miss,” she said.

  The young woman darted forward and relieved Laura of the child. She turned to the older woman. “I’m sorry, Madam. I don’t know how Benjy slipped away. It won’t happen again,” she said.

  “I told you brats aren’t allowed when you came begging for work.”

  “I had to bring him today. Old Mrs. Angel was too ill to keep him.”

  “You disobeyed me and let the boy run loose. He was mauling this dress. Nobody will buy it now. I’ll deduct the cost of the dress from your wages. That will teach you!”

  The woman, already pale, looked as if every drop of blood from her face had drained away.

  “Please don’t do that! I’ll buy the dress!” Laura blurted out.

  “You mustn’t encourage the lower classes.”

  The scene had attracted three customers to the spot. Ladies, all of them. The one who had spoken was the hatchet-faced Lady Merwick. “You mustn’t encourage the lower classes, Lady Laura,” she repeated.

  When Laura saw the women, she flushed a deep red.

  Lady Merwick thrust herself in front of Laura. “This dear woman has to manage an establishment. If her workers let loose their grubby children, it will be bedlam. If I was in her place, I would dismiss the hussy! Making her pay for the damaged dress is being too soft.”

  “She’s sorry and the child didn’t do any damage. He only touched the dress. He was attracted by the buttons.”

  “Nevertheless, your offer to buy the dress is ill-advised. The woman looks the cunning sort. She is sure to foist herself on your generosity.”

  The only way Anthony could reach Laura was by physically hauling Lady Merwick aside which was no easy task. She was built on massive lines and known to give a piece of her mind.

  To his surprise, Laura looked at the shop woman and said, in a quavering voice, “I want the dress. Please pack it.”

  Lady Merwick shrugged and moved aside. The other women also left. Only the seamstress remained, clutching her son and looking at Laura with wondering eyes.

  Anthony strode to where Laura stood. She looked a little frightened. “Lady Laura, what are you doing here? Why are you alone?”

  “I’m not alone. Gareth is in the waiting room and Lady Maria is upstairs, selecting lace.”

  Anthony took Laura’s hand and drew her arm through his. He could feel her trembling. He guessed she was badly shaken. She hated scenes or drawing attention to herself. And yet she had stood up to Lady Merwick. Grown men were known to lay down arms in front of the dragon. Many a debutante had burst into tears after being subjected to a scold for some imagined misdemeanor.

  Laura looked beyond Anthony at the seamstress. “Do you want a change of employment? You may find it difficult to continue working here.”

  The woman nodded. “Call on me tomorrow. I’ll help you,” Laura said, and gave her direction.

  “How do you propose to help her?” Anthony asked, intrigued by this facet of Laura's personality. Many members of the ton, even women, habitually mistreated household staff and people of a lower order. His father, the late duke, had thought nothing of riding roughshod over his tenants and staff.

  “Lady Maria ...Lady Maria knows someone who owns a bonnet shop. She should be able to help.”

  “Let’s find Lady Maria, shall we?” Anthony said, still retaining his hold on Laura’s hand.

  Lady Maria had made her purchases. When she heard what had transpired, she wanted to return everything. Laura stopped her. “I don’t want to see that woman. Let’s leave and never come here again!”

  They found Gareth yawning and looking at the time, both of which activities earned him Lady Maria’s ire. “Why were you not with Laura?” she demanded.

  “Wasn’t Laura with you?” he asked, to which Lady Maria had no answer.

  Roberts emerged from the back of the shop, directing parcels to be placed into the waiting carriage. “I’m leaving London,” Anthony said and explained the circumstances.

  By now they were in the street. A shop window caught Laura’s eye. “Your Grace, please don’t leave. I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, and dragged Lady Maria off to the shop.

  She returned a few minutes later and handed the duke a rag doll. “This is for Mary Jane.”

  His Grace frowned for a moment and then a smile lit up his eyes. “Ah! You had one similar as a child. You called her Amy.”

  “Wimberley, you possess a remarkable memory!” Gareth said.

  “The name wasn’t difficult to remember. My sister, Lady Amelia, has always been Amy to me. The doll isn’t easy to forget either. Lady Laura refused to part with it. She fell off the swing because she clutched the doll with one hand.”

  “Children often do that. Is Lady Mary Jane fond of dolls?” Lady Maria asked.

  “She has a number of dolls and toys but I don’t recollect a rag doll among them.”

>   “You may encourage her to name the doll and take her to bed with her,” Laura said.

  Anthony carefully tucked the rag doll inside his greatcoat. It was a precious gift. A gift of tenderness and understanding from someone who knew what it felt like to grow up without a mother.

  Chapter 14

  Laura found herself prodigiously busy during the coming days. She wasn’t really surprised to have almost as many fittings as Lady Maria. Her new sister was always finding excuses to order more gowns for her. Her aunt fretted over the ball, frequently telling Laura to go over some detail with her. There were also the ton events to attend and to prepare for.

  Another unexpected matter that kept Laura occupied was Lord Emsworth’s courtship. The man was enamored of Lady Priscilla. She continued to rebuff him but that did not cool his ardor.

  “You must help me, Lady Laura!” Lord Emsworth pleaded. He sought her out at balls and scribbled his name on her dance card and then sat the dance out, pouring his woes into her reluctant ears.

  And yet, the Duke of Wimberley was not very far from her thoughts. She wondered whether Mary Jane had found comfort with the doll. Laura knew she could ask her brother for news about Anthony. But she feared her expression would give away her secret. Gareth would know she had feelings for the duke. It would be embarrassing to be found out when the object of her affections viewed her as little more than a child.

  During the long wakeful hours, Laura had come to realize it was too late to remove Anthony from her heart. She didn’t want to love him but she did.

  Authors who penned novels about love knew nothing of the sentiment, she concluded. Heroines in her novels glowed when they were in love. They hummed. They found the world a better place. But love wasn’t like that. It hurt and made her weep into her pillow. She grew pale. She was incapable of finding enjoyment in even the most pleasurable of pursuits.

  Love was a nasty business and she wished she could be rid of it.

  ***

  In spite of being held at short notice, the Daventon Ball was well attended. The tastefully decorated ballroom was a pleasant change from the themed parties in vogue.

  As the guests began to arrive and the hall filled up, Laura had no time to think about Anthony. This was their own ball! Her mother and aunt looked happy and proud. And Gareth and Lady Maria made a stunning couple. They were well matched in looks. Anyone could tell they were deeply in love. Though they stood side by side receiving guests, they seemed to be connected by an invisible bond. Gareth’s hand often rested on Lady Maria’s back, and Lady Maria’s gloved hand was mostly on her betrothed’s arm. More than anything, the look on their faces proclaimed their love.

  When the dancing commenced, Lady Maria insisted that Gareth partner his sister for the first dance. Laura was surprised, and touched. Her other partners were handpicked by Lady Maria. Two dukes and three earls. Poor Mr. Bennet and Lord Newington didn’t stand a chance.

  As usual, Laura did not waltz. She had not yet the permission of the patronesses of Almack to waltz. If she was interested, Lady Maria would have arranged for her to waltz. More and more debutantes were obtaining permission to dance it.

  But Laura didn't fancy being held by her partners. If it was Mr. Bennett, his perfume would make her swoon, she was sure. She knew the steps. And dreamed of having Anthony as her partner. No one else would do. It was the dance of love.

  Lady Priscilla didn’t waltz either. Her father had forbidden it.

  “I want to see the fountain in your garden. I had a glimpse of the statuary as we came in. I want to view it from close,” Lady Priscilla said, as soon as the waltz was announced.

  Laura knew the fountain was an excuse to talk to her. She wondered why. She saw Lord Emsworth making his way to her. When he saw Lady Priscilla, he stopped and stared. Laura remembered him telling her that Lady Priscilla’s beauty and poise made him incapable of speech. Priscilla swept past her besotted admirer and Laura followed, after giving Lord Emsworth a reassuring smile.

  When they were outside and out of earshot, Lady Priscilla laughed. “I’ve caught him, don’t you think?”

  “Lord Emsworth?”

  “Who else? His father is ailing, I believe, and not expected to live long. He’ll inherit within a year. Do you know their estates are among the most prosperous in Kent?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What’s there not to understand? From the first, I decided to have him offer for me! I was not the only one who wanted to snare him.”

  “I thought you held him in disdain.”

  “It worked, didn’t it? Everyone else was fawning over him. Not you. He talks to you only because you’re my friend. When we go back inside, you must tell him that my father is in a hurry to marry me off to an older man. Tell him I’m so desperate I’ll accept any offer as long as it is from someone closer to my age.”

  Laura managed to hide her feeling of distaste and let Priscilla prattle on about her ‘conquest’. If a beautiful young woman from a wealthy titled family sunk so low to marry well, what subterfuge did the less fortunate apply?

  Ten days later they left London. The Season was coming to an end. Some of the young women, Lady Priscilla among them, had made advantageous matches. Many would return the next year, more determined, more desperate.

  Chapter 15

  The family arrived at Daventon Manor with mixed emotions. Lady Catherine was in tears. She had hoped to reconcile with her stubborn husband and return home. Instead, she was coming to his grave.

  Lady Helena, Gareth, and Laura were also remembering the late earl.

  He had yearned to have Lady Catherine return. Some months after the rift, his man of business told him she was ill and in Harrogate. He had rushed to see her, determined to bring her back. She was sitting alone in the walled garden of the rented house. He had stood outside the hedgerow, trying to compose himself before going into her presence. And then she had opened the turquoise pendant attached to her chain, and pressed kisses on an unseen miniature, with tears coursing down her wan face.

  He had left as if the devil was after him. “She pines for that other fellow. It will be a cruel thing if I force her to be my wife,” he told Lady Helena and shut himself in his room.

  That was the beginning of the end. Nothing mattered to him after that.

  And now he was beyond knowing the truth. Lady Catherine had engaged a painter to paint her husband’s miniature. She kept it close to her heart in the turquoise pendant. Her husband had misconstrued what he saw. She had been kissing his miniature.

  “Catherine, the past cannot be changed. You must think of the future. Gareth’s wedding is a joyous occasion. You will be gaining a wonderful daughter.”

  ***

  Prominent families from the neighborhood were invited. The late earl had severed contacts with close friends and cousins. But he had also missed them. At Lady Helena’s urging, invitations were sent to all of them.

  The first guest to arrive was also the most eagerly awaited one. Mr. Thornton was Lady Maria’s maternal uncle, from the Continent. Lady Maria had only recently discovered his existence. He hadn’t known about her either. He had visited America after the contagion that had taken his sister and husband. The servants had run away and the good doctor who had saved many lives had also succumbed. Maria’s death was not recorded but everyone thought it was only an oversight; they thought she had also died along with her parents.

  Lord Russell arrived next. Lady Helena was delighted to see him. He was a part of her growing years. His sister was her closest friend. The other guests started to arrive two days before the wedding. The Duchess of Severn and Lady Maria brought some of their close friends. Lord Russell unobtrusively took over the task of entertaining the male guests and seeing to their comfort.

  The Duke of Wimberley did not arrive until the eve of the wedding. He entered the hall when the small gathering of two hundred guests was sitting down to a banquet. The butler led him to his place near the top of the table.
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br />   Laura watched as he engaged Lady Catherine, who was seated beside him, in conversation. For two days she had waited for him to arrive. Every time a carriage came into sight, she had hoped it was Anthony. Her eyes had thirsted to see him again.

  Fool! She scolded herself. He hasn’t looked around even once.

  After the feast, the hired minstrel group took up position at one end of the ballroom. It wasn’t usual to hold a dance on the night before a wedding. But when Lydia heard about musicians from London being hired for the wedding celebrations, she pleaded with Lady Helena to let them have a dance. “We hardly get an opportunity,” she pouted.

  After consulting with Lady Catherine and Lord Daventon, Lady Helena agreed. There was to be an hour of dancing after the feast. Further pleading by Lydia and other young people led to the last dance being a waltz.

  Young men and women who didn’t have the advantage of attending a Season were determined to make the most of the opportunity. They spent a week practicing the steps and agonizing over what they would wear.

  Laura had also fretted about her gown and how she would have Bessie do her hair. After changing her mind so many times that Bessie almost drowned under the heap of rejected gowns, she decided on a maroon gown. Fashioned out of heavy silk, the gown had a square neckline and puffed sleeves. Its gauzy overdress was embroidered with small maroon flowers. Delicate gold embroidery added to its beauty. And a maroon sash made of the finest satin showed her figure to advantage.

  She had sat patiently while Bessie had done her hair into a loose chignon after threading it with a satin ribbon decorated with tiny roses.

  Odious man! Why wasn’t he asking her to dance? Two of her brother’s friends had already asked if she was free to waltz. Anthony stood to a side, deep in conversation with a small group of men. Clearly, he had no intention of dancing that night.