“He died in battle, ma’am, at Talavera, which is a place in Spain.”
“I know where Talavera is,” Lady Mary snapped. “News of the battle was in the newspapers.”
“His Colonel wrote that he was a hero, leading his men in a charge against the enemy. He was shot and died immediately.”
“Where is this letter now?”
“All of his papers were left with Mr. Soames the solicitor.”
“I will write to Mr. Soames, Mama, and retrieve the letter and the other papers for you,” Sir Edgar offered.
The evening was a trying one for Lucy and she was glad when it became late enough for her to retire to bed. One of the maids, Ellen, had been directed to look after her and she was waiting outside to show Lucy the way to her room. At the foot of the stairs, Lucy realised that she had left her gloves in the drawing room. Bidding the girl to wait, Lucy hurried back. Her hand was on the door knob when she heard her uncle ask,
“What do you think of her then?”
She froze, waiting for the reply. Then her grandmother said,
“Prettily behaved. She has been schooled in manners at least, but she is nervous and ill at ease. She should not put us to the blush although I cannot believe she is Charles’s daughter. She is so unlike him in both looks and temperament.”
Lucy whirled on the spot and hurried back to the maid.
“I made a mistake,” she told Ellen. “I must have left them in the dining room because I didn’t have them when we were drinking tea. Would you ask someone to fetch them up to my room when they are found?”
“Of course, miss,” Ellen replied looking rather surprised.
Lucy cried herself to sleep that night and awoke with a headache in the morning. The sunlight streaming through the long windows made her feel a little better. Ellen pulled back the heavy curtains and Lucy sat up in bed, sipping a glass of hot chocolate and thinking hard.
I must have courage, she thought, whatever the day brings. These are my only relatives, whether they want me to be or not and I like my uncle and aunt. I will do nothing to offend them and please them as much as I can. She grimaced. Her past life had been spent pleasing herself, not other people. She had been heedless and now she would have to be careful, which did not come naturally to her. I won’t make the same mistakes again! She kept hearing Mrs. Beckwith saying ‘have some consideration for others, Lucy, do’.
In the end, the day proved easier than she expected. Lady Ridgeway was alone when Lucy entered the breakfast room and explained that her husband had already finished and her grandmother always took breakfast in her own room. Lucy hoped that her aunt did not notice her sigh of relief. Nervousness would not allow her to eat much, so she was happy to leave the table when her aunt offered to introduce her to her cousins. It seemed to Lucy that Lady Ridgeway considered this to be a high treat and smiled at the fond mama. The schoolroom was situated on the second floor of the house, right at the end of the corridor.
“So we are not disturbed by the noise,” Lady Ridgeway, “although it is much quieter at present than it is when Tom is at home.”
As she followed her aunt, Lucy made up her mind that, no matter what her cousins were like, she would not treat them the same way as her schoolfellows. Here she was the poor relation, she would try as hard as she could to be friends. The schoolroom was a large, pleasant room filled with worn furniture and a small fire burning in the grate. A lady, wearing a dark round gown rose at their entrance, putting down her needlework and coming forward to greet them. Even without her Aunt Agnes’s introduction, Lucy realised she must be the governess. Miss Reynolds reminded Lucy of one of her own teachers who had appeared pleasant but had an eye that missed nothing, especially mischief.
The young boy who had been writing at the desk, proved to be Peter, the second son of the family. A small, thin child with a white face, Lucy imagined how much he would suffer at boarding school, if some of the tales were true. His sister, Helena, was quite different. She had the peaches-and-cream complexion of a true English rose, big brown eyes and a quantity of guinea gold curls.
“Why you are a beauty,” Lucy was surprised into saying and so immediately won her cousin’s heart. Lady Ridgeway beamed with pride but Miss Reynolds tutted.
“I have taught the children never to make personal remarks,” she pointed out in a stifled voice.
Lucy repressed the first words that jumped to her lips and tried to be tactful, “You must forgive me for speaking my thoughts aloud. I have never seen any girl as pretty as my cousin, but I will not say so again.”
When the teacher opened her mouth to reply, Lady Ridgeway forestalled her. “I think Miss Reynolds that it would be nice for Lucy to become acquainted with her cousins. Will you excuse them for their lessons for an hour or so on the strict understanding they will work twice as hard when they return?”
“If you wish it, Lady Ridgeway, of course, although Master Peter is in the middle of his Latin exercise.”
“I’m sure he will work better later on, won’t you, Peter?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Come along then, children.”
A little further along the corridor was an apartment which had once been the children’s playroom and had been converted to a sitting room now they were growing up. No fire burned in this grate and the atmosphere was rather chilly but both children were well prepared for such conditions. There was a quantity of cloaks lying over the back of the old settee. Helena gave one to Lucy saying,
“This is an old one of Tom’s and not very clean, I’m afraid, but you’ll freeze without it. They don’t light the fire in here until tea time.”
“Thank you, Helena.”
“Call me Nell, everybody does except Mama when she is being formal. Even Miss Reynolds does so, unless I am naughty. Am I really pretty?”
Lucy nodded. “You’re very pretty indeed. You’re certain to become all the rage when you make your debut.”
“That’s so long in the future! I have been begging Mama to let me come with you to Dublin. I know I won’t be able to go to the balls or the parties but I could go out with you in the daytime, if you let me. You’ll be able to tell me what has happened and how I must behave when it is my turn. It would be so exciting!”
“I don’t know if I am going to Dublin or not. No one has spoken to me about it yet.”
“Oh, you are. Mama is quite decided about that. When she brought out my sisters, she enjoyed herself so much. She didn’t go last year or the year before because Tom is not yet of age and Papa prefers not to leave here.”
“And our grandmother?”
“Ever since she found out about Uncle Charles’s death, she’s become stiff and quick tempered. She isn’t like that usually.”
“Are you both finished?” Peter piped up. “Girls! Fancy talking about the silly old Season when we could find out what happened to Cousin Lucy on the way here. I don’t suppose any of it is true, is it?”
“Any of what?”
“The servants have been saying you were captured by pirates, Cousin.” he replied breathlessly, his eyes shining.
Lucy smiled. “That’s quite true.”
“Tell us, please! Before Mama comes in to snatch us away.”
“Yes, tell us,” Nell echoed.
So Lucy told them a part of her tale and afterwards they told her about the things that had happened to them. She found out that Peter, in spite of his illnesses, was adventurous and could tell funny stories in a way that made them all laugh. They were in fact laughing when the door opened and Lady Ridgeway returned. The laughter stopped. Lady Ridgeway looked startled at the sudden guilty silence but she said,
“I’m glad you are becoming so well acquainted, my dears. Now I must bear Lucy off and it’s time for you two to return to your lessons,” she said. “Remember I expect you to work hard for Miss Reynolds to make up for the time you have lost.”
“We will, Mama, but can Lucy have tea with us when we’re finished?”
“Lucy is rather old for schoolroom teas, Peter.”
“But they’re so good. Mama! Cook makes scrumptious cakes!”
His mother laughed. “Would you like to join them, Lucy?”
Lucy surprised herself by saying, “If you please, ma’am.” She would never have wanted to attend something as childish as a schoolroom tea in the past but she did now. She liked her cousins.
“Very well then. Come with me, Lucy. Ellen tells me that the dress Mrs. Warren gave you is the only one you have. You need more than that if you are to go out into society or to dinner with our guests. Since it takes a little time to visit a dressmaker and have dresses made, Mama and I have been looking at those we have here.”
Lady Ridgeway led the way along the corridor and down the stairs to her own room. This apartment was dominated by a large bed. One its silken counterpane, a number of dresses had been laid out. Lady Mary sat in an armchair by the fire and a rather stout lady wearing a servant’s unrelieved black dress stood waiting for them.
“This is Morgan, my dresser,” Lady Mary told Lucy. “She has brought these clothes to see if any can be made to fit you.”
Lucy looked at the bright colours and rich fabrics. How tempting they looked but then caution intervened. Could this be another test?
“Am I allowed to wear such dresses, ma’am? I am still in mourning for my father.”
Lady Ridgeway shot a quick look at her mother-in-law who asked in a calm voice,
“Talavera was in July, was it not?”
“Yes, but we did not learn that Papa had died until some time after the battle.”
“That does not affect the issue. It’s now the middle of December, so five months have passed. I believe you may go into half mourning in January.”
“That’s fortunate, Mama,” Lady Ridgeway said. “Do you remember how difficult it was for Maria to make her debut while we were still in full mourning for Papa? She couldn’t go to the public balls or even dance at the private ones.”
“I remember. A sad time for all of us. I always believed that her come out should have been postponed to the following year.”
“If it had been, she would not have met dear Jonathan, so I am glad it was not,” Lady Ridgeway replied. “But Lucy is right; these colours will not do even for half mourning.”
“There are these two, madam.” Morgan turned over the dresses and held up a white one and a grey walking dress.
“If I may suggest something else, madam?”
“Yes, Morgan?”
“I have some dresses put away which Miss Maria wore during her come-out. She is almost the same size as Miss Lucy. They are mainly in pale coloured muslins. Shall I fetch them, madam?”
“Yes, do so please. Did Charlotte leave anything behind her also?”
“I believe so, madam. I will check.”
“Will Maria’s do, Mama?”
“For now, if they are worn with black gloves and a black sash. There may be some which can also be dyed into darker shades.”
Morgan came back carrying several dresses over her arm and laying them onto the bed. She held up the first one against Lucy.
“I remembered this black dress was left in Miss Charlotte’s press. She wore it after the master died. Would she mind if we altered it, madam?”
“I doubt it. She prefers silk to crêpe, now she is married.”
“You are a little smaller than Miss Maria,” Morgan turned to Lucy and said,
“Could you fit these dresses to Miss Lucy, Morgan?”
“Easily, madam, with Millie’s help, if she could be excused from her other duties. I’ll turn up the hem or put in a few tucks, so you won’t know it was made for another person.”
“Let us see what they look like on Lucy.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Lucy tried on the dresses and stood still while Morgan and the sewing maid, Millie, pinned them to her. Lady Mary left them after she had seen and approved the first garment. Lady Ridgeway went away about half an hour later and Lucy could not help being relieved when they both had gone. She lost her nervousness and was able to discuss the alterations with the servants, as she had often done with the dressmakers at home. This time, however, she was careful to ask for their help and not just to give them orders, so the session became quite enjoyable. By the time they had decided on six dresses, the daylight had vanished and one of the maids came to fetch Lucy to attend the schoolroom tea. She put Mrs. Warren’s dress back on, leaving Millie busily stitching at another for that evening’s meal. Guests would join them and Lady Ridgeway had charged Millie with having the dress ready in time.
Chapter Eighteen
Lucy was very pleased to appear in her new dress. Even if it was a dull black crêpe, the style was fashionable. Her hair had been dressed high on her head, with one or two curls allowed to fall onto her shoulder. With her pearls, black gloves and a fan loaned by Lady Ridgeway, she felt older and far more sophisticated than she ever had before. As she came into the drawing room, she saw O’Rourke as he rose with the other men at her entrance.
Her aunt came forward. “I need not introduce you to Mrs. Warren or Mr. Anselm, my dear, but let me make you known to the Reverend Mr. Warren and our neighbour Mrs. Lovering. This is our niece Lucy Ridgeway, Charles’s daughter.”
Lucy curtseyed and looked into a set of kind eyes under bushy white brows. She immediately liked Mr. Warren as much as his wife. Mrs. Lovering was a different matter, entirely. She seemed stern and distant. Next day Lucy discovered the reason for her attitude, after asking Nell. The lady appeared so critical of her that she wondered if she had a smut on the end of her nose. She endured another meal which would have been difficult except for the presence of the Warrens. Both husband and wife possessed the art of making polite conversation, proposing different subjects when the discussion flagged and making sure that no one was overlooked. O’Rourke seemed more at ease than she would have expected him to be, although he smilingly turned aside an enquiry on a point of church doctrine.
“You must ask Mr. Warren, ma’am. Being in his company even for such a short time has shown me that I was a lamentable student and should have paid far more attention to my lessons. I shall have to rectify the fault before I inflict myself on my congregation.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Warren said. “Anselm is extremely sound and, when he has spent a few years as a curate, I am sure we will hear great things about him.”
Lucy’s eyebrows rose and she looked down, so her surprised expression should not be observed. Her heart was in her mouth several times during dinner when O’Rourke answered questions with a seeming carelessness. She was heartily glad when the meal ended. She learned that the supposed Mr. Anselm was due to board the stagecoach to Dublin on the following day and had accompanied his hosts to say farewell.
“I’m sorry you’re going so soon,” Lucy said primly, aware of the eyes watching her. “Thank you for helping me. I wish you good fortune in your new situation and for the future.”
When the ladies retired to the drawing room, Mrs. Lovering asked,
“May we please have some music, Lady Ridgeway? No doubt Miss Ridgeway would like to play for us?” Her eyes seemed to bore right into Lucy.
“Lucy?”
“Although I was taught to perform on both the pianoforte and the harp, I possess little skill at either,” Lucy said truthfully. “I would be ashamed to play in front of you.”
“I’m sure you have no need to be, my dear. Indulge us please,” Lady Ridgeway replied.
Having no choice, Lucy rose, went over to the piano and lifted the lid.
“Oh. What a fine instrument.” She ran her fingers across some of the keys. “The school’s piano had such a flat tone. I learned only one piece without music…”
“There’s music in that cabinet beside you,” Lady Ridgeway said.
At that moment, the gentlemen came back into the room. O’Rourke came over to her.
“Are you going to play for us? Good. May I help you find your music?”
As their heads drew together, O’Rourke whispered,
“I’ll come to Dublin as soon as I can. Look for me there.”
“You’re not going further?”
“No, not yet. Oh, here is the piece you were searching for,” he said more loudly, standing up with a sheet of music in his hand. It looked complicated and Lucy knew that she dared not attempt it.
“Shall I turn the pages for you?” he asked.
“If you please, but I need no music for this song. I know it by heart.” Lucy turned to the others who were waiting expectantly. “I haven’t played for some months so I beg you will excuse my mistakes.”
She poised her fingers over the keys and started to play one of the first pieces she had ever learned, the old air of Greensleeves. She always chose it whenever she was asked, because who needs to learn more than one piece? Now, as it came to an end, she offered a prayer of thanks for her old music teacher. Miss Norman insisted that a lady of quality must know more and perform all of them elegantly. She was a formidable lady and Lucy had not dared to flout her She felt ashamed for the times she abused the poor woman. There were a couple of simple songs in the pile of music sheets and Lucy fumbled her way though them before standing up and closing the piano lid. She stood before them, her cheeks hot as she acknowledged the muted applause.
“Thank you, you’re kind but I know I am not a good player. Please forgive me.”
“Can you sing?” Lady Mary asked.
Lucy’s head came up, her whole face changed as she smiled. It was the one thing at which she had excelled, having a naturally sweet tone and the ability to stay in tune. Also she liked singing because it did not require her to study. Unfortunately the school had always stressed the playing of instruments rather than choral music, ‘which anyone can manage even farmers’. Why didn’t I offer to sing rather than play the piano? How silly of me!
“Indeed I love it, if someone will accompany me.”
“I will.” Lady Ridgeway rose and sat down at the instrument. “Can you sing ‘Cherry Ripe’?”
“Yes, of course.”
Miss Ridgeway's Privateer (Regency Belles & Beaux Book 3) Page 16