Miss Morrison sighed. ‘It is quite exquisite. The silver thread embroidery catches the candlelight like twinkling stars, do you not agree, ma’am?’
Lady Quidenham’s response was a scornful ‘Hmph!’
Lucy caught Morry’s eye and they shared a rueful smile.
‘Of course,’ she said, resuming her seat. ‘We must wait until we see what else is in vogue this season, but I am very hopeful that Grace’s artistry will arouse some interest.
‘As will the wearer.’ Miss Morrison smiled mistily at her charge. ‘I shouldn’t be at all surprised if you were to find yourself with a great many beaux.’
‘Heavens, that is the last thing I want,’ declared Lucy. ‘It will not do for me to encourage any particular gentleman’s attentions. It is the ladies’ interest I need to catch. I want them to be saying, “My dear, where did you get that gown? It is quite perfect, and just the sort of thing my little Hattie or Jocasta or Chloe needs to make her stand out from the crowd!”’
‘So you have no ambitions to marry well?’ Lady Quidenham gave a little snort of derision. ‘Perhaps you expect to fall in love!’
‘Oh no,’ Lucia answered her coolly. ‘I have seen where that may lead and I mean to remain single. Once Grace’s business is up and running, Morry and I will join her and we shall all three live in happy and man-free independence.’
Lady Quidenham looked as if she thought this a preposterous idea, but she did not argue, merely putting down her empty cup and announcing in a querulous voice that she was too fatigued to remain any longer. Miss Morrison flew from her chair.
‘Dear ma’am, let me give you my arm to your bedchamber. I think I shall retire, too, for it has been a long day, has it not? What with the journey, and all the unpacking. Not that you will have had to worry about that. I am sure Miss Fixby has put everything to rights for you.’
Lucia watched her friend leave the room with Lady Quidenham leaning heavily on her arm. She knew that she, too, must retire soon, although she did not feel in the least fatigued, but that was because she was positively sizzling with excitement. Her big adventure was about to begin!
From the moment Lucia had announced her Grand Plan, the three of them had worked hard, poring over fashion plates, buying materials and re-using what they could from the clothes they had discovered in the attics to provide a range of new outfits. A chintz polonaise was transformed into an elegant morning gown and more creations followed, morning dresses, evening- and ball-gowns made from rich tulles and silks, while heavier materials were used to make a variety of spencers, pelisses and cloaks. Even the richly embroidered panels of the sumptuous ballgowns were turned into reticules and larger bags.
Lucia and Miss Morrison spent long hours sewing seams, making petticoats and ruching frills, but it was Grace who sketched out the designs and her clever fingers that fashioned the fabrics into beautiful clothes that copied or even excelled the designs found in the various magazines by giving them a little twist all of her own. Nothing was wasted. Spangles from a stomacher were carefully unpicked and sewn along the edges of a fine lace evening shawl and ostrich feathers were dyed and used to decorate a fetching poke bonnet.
By the time Lucia had signed the lease on a house in Orchard Street, not only did she have a complete wardrobe, but the carriage hired to take Grace to London was packed full of caps, bonnets, reticules, cloaks and loose gowns to stock the shelves of Grace ‘s reception rooms.
And tomorrow, thought Lucia, as she climbed into bed, she would see the new shop for herself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Orchard Street was just a short walk from Lady Quidenham’s residence in Portman Square and early the following morning, Lucy and Miss Morrison sallied forth to visit the new establishment. The property was leased with funds released from Lucia’s inheritance, and as she and Morry crossed the road towards it, Lucia felt a burst of pride. The house had been painted, the windows cleaned and the brass plaque beside the yellow door positively sparkled in the spring sunshine. A young maid in a snow-white cap and apron showed them into the parlour, where Grace was waiting to greet them.
They kept up the pretence of being customers until the door closed upon the servant, then Grace ran towards them, arms outstretched.
‘Lucia, Morry, how glad I am to see you!’
After they had greeted one another in a flurry of hugs, kisses and even a few tears, Miss Morrison clasped her hands together and looked around the room.
‘Well,’ she exclaimed, ‘you have set this out very well, my dear. Very well indeed. That poke-bonnet catches the eye on its stand over there, and the reticules and sabretache bags look much better on the shelves than they did in the cottage!’
‘I know, I am very proud of them,’ replied Grace, blushing a little. ‘I went exploring in New Bond Street to see how they do things there. I was tempted to put one or two things in the window, but I recalled Lucia’s advice.’
‘You are very right not to do so,’ replied Lucy. ‘I very well remember that in Bath the best and most fashionable modistes are most discreet. Only the brass nameplate distinguishes their shop from the other houses. Now, have the trade cards I ordered arrived?’
‘Yes, they came this morning. And I saw the notice you had sent to the Gazette.’ Grace ran over to a cupboard and took out a newspaper, folded open to show the announcement. ‘It appeared a few days ago, look. It was very strange, seeing my name in print. “Miss Grace Bower’s dressmaking establishment in Orchard Street is now open, providing an outstanding display of millinery, dresses, head-dresses and all the accoutrements required by the fashionable lady. Miss Bower can provide riding habits, wedding dresses, gowns for morning, evening and fancy balls. Unique and fashionable designs to suit every occasion.”’ She looked up. ‘Oh heavens, Cousin, what if I cannot meet these expectations?’
‘Why should you not?’ Lucy took her hands in a sustaining grasp. ‘You are a very talented seamstress. Customers will come, I promise you.’
Grace said shyly, ‘I had a very haughty lady come in yesterday to look about.’
‘There you are, then! And what price did you put upon your work?’
‘As we agreed, Lucia. I almost trembled to ask so much. It seems very expensive.’
‘Fashionable gowns are expensive, Grace. The ton will expect to pay a great deal or they will think your work shabby. Did the lady order anything?’
‘Yes.’ She swallowed visibly. ‘She took away one of the embroidered silk reticules and she wants the walking dress with ribboned sleeves à la mameluke. She is to come back on Thursday for me to take her measurements.’
‘Then that is an excellent start! And have you advertised for workers, as I instructed?’
‘Yes. I already have one seamstress, a widow, who is also a skilled milliner. She is upstairs in the workshop and her work is very satisfactory. Another woman will be joining her next week.’
‘Good. And as soon as business is established we will take on an apprentice, perhaps two. Now, have you ordered the muslins you require? And are you saving all the receipts, as we agreed? When Morry is not required to chaperon me to parties she will come along and keep the accounts for you. It is best that she comes of an evening, when you are alone. We do not want anyone to know of your connection with Lady Quidenham ‘
They spent another hour discussing business, then Lucia and Morry took their leave.
‘A customer already,’ declared Miss Morrison. ‘That must be a good sign.’
‘Indeed. And Grace has employed her own staff without any help from us. She is showing great promise, I think. Now, shall we take a stroll to Bond Street? I am glad there is a chill in the air, it makes my redingote with its fur collar and matching muff very appropriate.’ Lucy chuckled. ‘We must thank Grandmama for leaving us her sable-lined mantle!’
They explored several of the shops in New Bond Street and Lucia was well pleased with the results of their first outing. She had received a very appraising stare from the owner of one mil
liner’s establishment and the woman’s subsequent manner showed that she considered Lucia might be a customer of some importance. Lucy made a note to mention this to Grace when they next met. Clearly her made-over clothes had passed the first test.
They arrived back in Portman Square at noon and after going upstairs to divest herself of her coat and hat, Lucy went in search of her great-aunt. She found her sitting at the desk in the morning room, pen in hand.
‘Ah, there you are, Lucia. I have just completed a list of guests for the soirée.’ She observed Lucia’s look of surprise and added gruffly. ‘As you insist on my holding such a party, I suppose I must stir myself.’
‘Indeed, Aunt Evadne, I am delighted that you are taking an interest in the proceedings.’ She took the list and perused it. ‘None of these names are familiar to me, but I presume they are all your friends?’
‘I would call them more nodding acquaintances. When I come to Town, I might see a few of my old friends at private parties, but I do not go into society.’
‘Oh, that is a pity. We must be a little more sociable this season.’
‘I have no intention of being sociable,’ snapped the dowager.
‘No, no Aunt, I quite understand. And that reminds me of something. Miss Morrison will not be joining us for dinner in future. I know I insisted upon it at first, but she prefers to keep her own company, as do you, so I know you will not object. As for going into company, you need not stir yourself so very much,’ replied Lucia, in soothing accents. ‘Once I am a little more established, there are any number of trifling ailments that will keep you at home, then Morry shall accompany me.’
With that, she sailed off before her aunt could let loose the acid rejoinder that was clearly bursting to escape from her lips.
Lady Quidenham might take a week to recover from the exigencies of the journey, but Lucia was impatient to be out and about. The following day she sailed forth with Miss Morrison to explore even more of the shops in and around New Bond Street. They were not a whit put off by the overcast sky and persistent drizzle and spent a fascinating morning browsing the shop windows and even stepping inside one or two of the more interesting premises.
The proprietors and assistants of these establishments did not recognise the young lady and her companion, but their experienced eyes could not doubt that she was Quality. She carried herself with an air of confidence, and her style might be a little out of the ordinary, but there was no mistaking the workmanship of the green poke bonnet that covered her dark curls, nor the exquisite stitching of the matching redingote that became her dainty figure.
They were very happy to answer her questions, delivered with pretty deference, and they laid out selections of their finest wares for her inspection. They pulled down bolts of fine materials, brought out their most stylish head- or footwear and displayed the latest pattern books and fashion plates to show her. The lady purchased nothing, but she showed such interest, and spoke to them in such a friendly manner that they had no doubt that she would be back soon.
In one shop, a busy haberdasher, Lucia made several purchases of gloves, stockings, ribbons and even a pretty parasol, all designed to set off Grace’s cleverly-worked creations. However, the various items made a far larger parcel than she had anticipated and she was a little dismayed at the thought of carrying it around with them for the rest of the morning.
She asked if it could be put aside, to be collected later, and the eager young assistant was only too willing to help such an affable, pleasantly-spoken customer.
‘Of course, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Or we might have it sent on for you?’
He was rewarded with a smile. Lucia quickly gave him her aunt’s direction and, having completed her transaction, she moved away from the counter to wait for Miss Morrison, who was making a few purchases of her own.
She noticed that one of the other customers was watching her, a pretty, fair-haired young lady in a dove-blue walking dress and fur-trimmed tippet. A wooden-faced footman stood patiently behind her, holding a selection of parcels. Lucia gave her fellow shopper a friendly look and the young lady stepped closer.
‘Excuse me… Miss Luckington, is it not? I couldn’t help overhearing – you mentioned Lady Quidenham.’
‘Yes. She is my great-aunt.’
The young lady nodded and said shyly, ‘I am Verity Claversham.’
Lucia smiled, quickly casting her mind back over her great-aunt’s guest list.
‘Ah yes. You are related to the Countess of Winterstoke…’
‘She is my grandmama.’ Miss Claversham nodded eagerly, her eyes shining. ‘I would not have presumed to speak to you, but Lady Quidenham is my great-aunt too. Only by marriage, of course, but it makes us connected – we are almost cousins.’
Lucia laughed. ‘So we are.’ She held out her hand. ‘Well met, Miss Claversham, I am delighted to make your acquaintance.’ She beckoned to Miss Morrison to join her and introductions were made.
‘I had heard you were in Town,’ Verity told Lucia. ‘Grandmama read it in the notices and immediately wrote to Mama to tell her. Mama is still at Claversham, you see. She did not feel well enough to come to town for the whole season, but Grandmama thought she would want to know about you.’ She stopped, flushing, then continued in a burst of confidence, ‘Lady Quidenham never comes to Town so early, and to be bringing a companion is most…well, it has occasioned no little interest, especially so for Mama, because –’ She gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘I beg your pardon, we must appear horridly curious!’
The light in the shop was dimmed by the huge bulk of a carriage pulling up outside the window. Miss Claversham glanced around.
‘My grandmother’s coach,’ she said. ‘I must go. I am so pleased we have met, Miss Luckington, I know Mama says – but never mind that! I am sure Grandmama will call at Quidenham House soon.’
With that, Miss Claversham hurried away.
‘Well,’ said Lucy, watching through the window as the young lady climbed into the carriage and was driven away. ‘We already have an acquaintance in Town, and a wealthy one, at that, by the look of it! If she, or rather her grandmother, can be persuaded to patronize Grace, then we shall be off to a very good start.’
Later that day, when Lucia joined her aunt in the drawing room before dinner, she mentioned her encounter with Miss Verity Claversham.
‘She told me she is staying with Lady Winterstoke, whose name I have seen on your list.’
‘Her grandmother,’ Lady Quidenham nodded.
‘And some sort of relative of yours, I believe.’
‘Not Lady Winterstoke, but the Clavershams appear in the Quidenham family tree, somewhere. Lady Claversham is a widow, and in poor health. She rarely comes to Town. There is an older brother, but he is still in the country and not expected to return for a month or so yet.’ Her aunt gave a little shrug. ‘If you have met the grand-daughter, then Lady Winterstoke might be persuaded to come, but I really cannot be sure. I haven’t spoken to her for years.’
‘But from what you have told me that applies to most of the names on your invitation list,’ replied Lucy, amused.
‘Yes, and I have no wish to have them all traipsing about my house,’ snapped the old woman. ‘I have been quite happy to come to Town once a year and spend a few months visiting my dressmaker and one or two old friends. The rest I am content to greet with no more than a nod.’
‘Oh how sad.’ Lucia’s involuntary exclamation was rewarded with glare but she continued seriously, ‘You have become very reclusive, Aunt, and that is not good for you.’
‘Nonsense! Why does everyone think I am in need of company? I keep myself to myself and have no wish to engage in idle chitter chatter with people with whom I have little in common. Toadying mushrooms, most of ‘em.’
‘Not those invited to your soirée, surely,’ Lucia argued, casting her mind back over the host of lords, ladies and honourables she had seen on the list.
The old lady conceded the point, but came back fig
hting.
‘You told me to invite the most influential of my acquaintances.’ She added morosely, ‘I doubt they will come.’
‘Oh I think they will,’ replied Lucia, remembering her conversation with Miss Claversham. ‘I think they will be intrigued to know what you are about!’
To Lucia’s surprise, Lady Quidenham took more than a passive interest in the arrangements for the soirée. She herself sent out all the invitations, consulted with her cook upon the refreshments and gave Aston orders regarding which rooms were to be prepared. This left Lucia free to continue with her Grand Plan. She made sure she was seen everywhere, and always wearing one of Grace’s designs. A spell of fine weather allowed her to drive out every day in Lady Quidenham’s stately barouche. Miss Luckington might not yet be acquainted with many people in Town, but she soon became well known to them by sight, and very few of those invited to the Dowager Viscountess of Quidenham’s soirée sent their apologies.
On the night, Quidenham House was full to overflowing. Lucia was delighted, although her enjoyment was marred somewhat by knowing that she was the object of much speculation about whether her great-aunt was going to change her will.
She turned aside sly questions with a smile and ignored any snatches of conversation she overheard that involved herself. After all, she had wanted to cause a stir, to be thought of as an heiress, so she could hardly complain, could she?
If the dowager was gratified by the attendance she hid it well. When Lucia came to sit beside her to ask her how she was enjoying herself, she grumbled that she was being kept up well past her usual bed time to talk to people in whom she had no interest.
‘Come now, Aunt, you appeared to be enjoying yourself hugely with Lady Chawton. I believe you were pulling some poor unfortunate’s character to shreds. The lady’s daughter-in-law, I believe.’
‘Maria Chawton was merely informing me of the circumstances of her son’s marriage,’ replied the dowager, in dignified accents. ‘She considers he married beneath him, and is naturally concerned.’
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