by Lisa Boero
The news that Althea had decided on a new wardrobe sent Bella into an ecstasy of delight that was only restrained by the necessity of proceeding down to dinner. The honor of taking Althea’s arm was awarded to the marquess. He was a stiff sort of gentleman, some years older than his spouse. He had once been a spitting image of his eldest son, but the years on the town were evident in the dark circles under his heavy lids and the multitude of wrinkles around his mouth. There was also a tension in the smile he bestowed upon her that made Althea wonder what trouble might lurk below his placid countenance.
“My dear, we are quite delighted that you have finally honored us with your presence. It is always amusing to have a pretty woman about the house.”
“Thank you. You are too kind, Lord Levanwood.” She met his gaze.
“Good. I thought you weren’t one of those mealymouthed women who are too embarrassed to receive a compliment.”
“One must take what one can get under the circumstances.”
He chuckled as he handed her into the chair to his right. “Exactly so.”
They were seated at a table that was too large for easy conversation with such a small family party. Instead, a stilted exchange in loud voices passed for polite communication. As Althea lifted her spoon to try the cream soup, the marquess said, “Sir Arthur Trent was enamored of scientific pursuits, I hear.”
She swallowed quickly. “Why, yes. Before his passing, he was working collaboratively with Fellows of the Royal Society on a study of toads.”
“He was a Fellow of the Royal Society himself, I understand.”
“Yes.” She took another sip of soup.
“I’ve had a new thought about my sonnet,” John said to her.
She swallowed again and turned to him. “Indeed?”
Bella’s voice came from across the table. “A ball, yes, we must have a ball!”
The marquess looked sternly at his spouse, but then turned back to Althea. “Toads. That is an interesting subject, I’m sure.”
“The wolf man must transform by the light of the full moon. A large laughing moon.”
“I’ve never had much experience with scientific men. Seen them about town, but nothing beyond that.”
“The moon against the dark of the trees.”
“A ball, yes! To launch dear Althea back into society. But there is so much to do. And she must have new gowns. Otherwise, what is the point?”
“I don’t know that I could spend my time with toads. Slimy creatures. Although as a boy we used to have great fun putting them in our governess’s bed.”
“And I have spent some time thinking about the fur. I have to get the transformation from skin to fur just right, or it won’t work.”
“Dear Lady Trent would look lovely in blue, don’t you think?”
“What about the phrase ‘fur sprouting through the skin like new oats in a spring field’?”
“We had such larks as a boy. Crickets in the parlor. Mice in the schoolroom.”
“And puce. There is nothing more elegant than puce for brown hair.”
As the ladies recessed to the blue salon, Althea whispered to Jane, “I have never had a more tiring dinner in all my life! Even with three different conversations, I never got a word in edgewise.”
Once the ladies were seated around the coffee, Bella grabbed Althea’s hand and squeezed it repeatedly. “Oh, my dear cousin, I shall take you to Madame Longet first thing tomorrow, for she will know just what colors will set off your complexion. She’s vastly expensive, but nothing is equal to her designs, absolutely nothing. Then we must call on Madame Harvey, for she fashions the most exquisite bonnets and lace caps, and you must be guided by her because, as we are cousins, I can be frank and tell you that the cap you have on now does not do your face justice. It quite swallows you up.”
“I certainly do not wish to disgrace the name of Trent by appearing in society in an ugly cap.”
“No indeed. One must look one’s best at all times. And I will give you a piece of advice since you are new to town, and must be guided by me. There are certain ladies that you should take particular care to impress if you are to be well received by society.”
“Indeed? Pray tell me their names so that I may be on my guard.”
“The patronesses of Almack’s for certain, although Lady Jersey is a particular friend of mine so you may rest easy in that regard. The Duchess of Richmond—”
“She isn’t that Frenchwoman Richmond ran off with when I was in my first season, is she?” Jane said.
“The very same. Of course, now no one seems to remember the scandal. She is quite popular with the Prince of Wales, you see.” Bella smiled.
“The prince always did have queer taste,” Jane said.
“Be that as it may, you must not seek to antagonize her. No indeed. Or Lady Pickney either, come to think of it.”
“Who is Lady Pickney?” Althea said.
“She’s nothing to look at, and Lord Pickney isn’t even very good ton, but that Pickney woman has the sharpest tongue in all of London. And what is worse, polite society seems to hang on her every word. It quite defies belief, but there it is. Do not get crosswise with her or you shall live to regret it. Why she said poor Charles looked like a fox about to steal an egg, and I tell you, what hope does he have of making a good match once that sort of thing goes around? It puts me all out of patience.”
“Any woman with a good understanding will take such comments for what they are: silly chitchat,” Althea said.
Bella sighed. “One can only hope.”
Althea took another sip of coffee. “You mentioned the Duchess of Richmond. Word reached Somerset about some earrings of hers that may have been stolen. Do you know anything about that? Should I take special care with my jewelry here in town?”
“Oh yes, that was some time ago, wasn’t it? Well, I will caution you because it appears that the thief who took her earrings is still at large. Not that you have anything to worry about in my household, for my servants are all to be trusted implicitly, but I do know several people who have suffered losses at this Richmond Thief’s hand. Why, even Lord Belfore, who has been intimate with Lord Levanwood lo these twenty years or more, suffered the loss of a diamond brooch. The pity was that he’d laid out some monies several years ago to get it remade special for Lady Belfore to wear in her hair. It was a family piece, I believe. Ghastly looking thing, really, but Lady Belfore seemed fond of it.”
“Oh dear,” Jane said.
Althea opened her mouth to inquire further but was prevented from doing so by the entrance of the men. Indeed, Althea thought as she sipped her coffee, Cousin Charles did have the air of a fox about him.
Chapter Three
The following morning they set out for Madame Longet’s establishment, which was located in an elegant building on Bond Street. As an important customer, the Marchioness of Levanwood was ushered up immediately. She and her guests were asked to sit in a charming parlor and offered refreshment in the form of hot chocolate and sugared biscuits.
After several minutes, a small, dark lady with shrewd brown eyes swept into the room. “Ah, Lady Levanwood, how delighted I am that you have come.” Madame Longet curtsied low and then said, “Please tell me how I might be able to serve you this morning?”
Bella quickly swallowed the other half of her fourth biscuit. “We have come for a new wardrobe for Lady Trent and Miss Trent, my cousins from Somerset, come to stay in London. As you can see, dear Lady Trent has been in mourning for my cousin but decided to put off the black and so must order some new dresses. And Miss Trent as well, for there is nothing like the London fashions.”
“I see. Lady Trent, delighted to serve you. If you will permit, would your ladyship please stand?”
Althea complied.
“Ah yes, I think some of the new designs will suit your ladyship very well. Moderation in adornment is what is required for elegance this season. No girlish frills.”
Lady Levanwood touched her lace col
lar self-consciously, but Madame Longet merely smiled. “And Miss Trent?”
Jane rose, and Madame Longet eyed her critically. “And I have just the style for a lady with such regal height. It will take the breath away. Lady Levanwood, Lady Trent, and Miss Trent, if you would please follow me into the salon.”
Althea and Jane rose to follow. Bella hurriedly finished her hot chocolate and then bustled behind. The salon was furnished with several long tables. Four dress mannequins stood like soldiers at attention in the corners. The tables were covered with loosely bound dressmakers’ fashion plates, some plainly engraved and others tinted by hand in watercolor, as well as sketches on loose paper, clearly the original designs of the establishment. There was a door to one side of the room that was partly open, and Althea spied shelves full of neat rolls of cloth to be shown to customers and heard the hushed murmur of Madame Longet’s seamstresses.
“We have quite the latest prints available for review.” Madame Longet gestured to the tables. “Although I would direct Lady Trent to this volume, as it contains just such a style as will suit to perfection.” She pointed at a book lying open on the table close to the seamstresses’ room. “And if you would permit me, I must confer with one of my staff a moment.” She curtsied again and then slipped through the open door, closing it quietly behind her.
The ladies fanned out. Althea approached the selected volume and began to turn the pages slowly. Madame Longet was correct, these simple fashions were indeed just to her taste. Her eye settled on an evening gown of pale green satin with an unadorned square bodice, short puffed sleeves, and a fine net overskirt of silver threads, parted in the middle to show the satin. It would be just the dress to wear to a ball, and she had a lovely diamond set that Arthur had given her as a wedding present. She turned the page to examine a cambric day dress with a blue velvet spencer when her ear caught part of a conversation taking place behind the walls of the seamstress’s workshop.
“And what are we to do with the bill, pray?” a voice said.
“We must act carefully, as it would not do to offend Lady Levanwood.” That was definitely Madame Longet.
“Offend her? Why, I’d like to offend her. She hasn’t paid for the last five gowns she ordered. Nor, given what I hear, is she like to.”
“The Marquess of Levanwood will find a way. He always does,” replied Madame Longet.
“You’re a simpleton if you lend credit to her cousins. One spendthrift is like to travel with another.”
“No doubt, but I shan’t let them order more than a couple of gowns, no matter how many they desire. Then we shall see how quickly they pay. If that Lady Trent wishes to come out of mourning, she’ll pay readily enough.”
Althea heard the sounds of a hand on the doorknob and quickly shifted her focus back to the book of fashions. If she could only have one or two dresses made, she should stick to the most important. One ball gown and one dress for supper would do as a start.
Several hours and numerous bolts of fabric later, Althea came away with an order for the green ball gown and a deep blue satin supper dress, cut low at the front and trimmed with worked Brussels lace. Jane escaped with a new printed cotton day dress and a fetching pelisse in dark green velvet. Lady Levanwood, after much back and forth, ordered nothing. Althea had to admire the deftness with which Madame Longet parried her client’s insistence that nothing would do but to order another new dress for the as yet unplanned and unorganized ball.
However, that was put to rights, for as soon as the ladies reached the house, Bella said, “My dears, no matter what the marquess says, we must and shall have a ball. Why, I have that yellow silk gown that has never been worn. I ordered it too late last year to be of much use. For who wishes to wear a ball gown in the country? Summer is such a dull season, unless one can be by the sea, but the marquess was so disagreeable as not to follow the prince to Brighton. Some nonsense about economies and suchlike. It tries my patience to no end, but never mind because it wouldn’t be right not to have a ball this season, for you are come and I have the dress. And the diamonds, of course. I will have Charles get them from the jeweler—loose stones you know—the setting is horrible, but they’ve been in the family for ages, and the stones are of the first water. The collar glitters like anything under the lights.”
Bella then bustled away to begin the arduous task of writing out a list of potential invitees. Jane retired to her bedroom, and Althea took the opportunity to snatch a walk in the small back garden.
It wasn’t much of a garden, just a square patch of dirt, planted with shrubs at the edges and the scraggly sprouts of new vegetables rising from raised beds grouped in the center. It backed up on the mews and was hemmed in by the other tall houses. The shrubs still bore evidence of frosty mornings, and the wisps of vegetable greenery were hardly picturesque, but any outdoor activity was preferable to yet another minute cooped up inside. Althea walked the length of the high wooden fence that enclosed the perimeter. There was a gate at one end, which she tried but failed to open. Presumably the staff had a key.
Even with the houses for a shield, she could still hear the rough sounds of the street. She had to admit that the noise unnerved her, and not for the first time she thought of the quiet of home. Or at least of a different kind of noise. Insects and birds and the rustle of the leaves in the trees. She reached out and touched the desiccated leaf of a boxwood bush, sliding the small waxy leaf between her fingers. Although the boxwood was known to repel insects, perhaps she might find one or two lurking about. She bent over to examine the shrub more carefully.
On the ground by the bush lay a dead raven. Arthur had once thought to do a study of ravens because he had observed enough of their behavior to realize that they were intelligent and organized animals. Given the lack of decay, Althea estimated that the carcass was only a day old. Althea touched the wing, shifting the bird. Several flies emerged from the bird’s body and buzzed angrily. Althea grinned. Insects and a raven, two of Arthur’s interests in one. Despite the lack of black dresses, she might just have to begin her observations anew. She turned the carcass over, observing other flies clinging to the raven’s flesh. So quickly the predator became the prey.
“Roger?” A voice came from the stairwell down to the kitchen door.
Althea stood up quickly.
“Roger?” A man came up the steps. He was dressed in loose clothing and a long apron. “Oh, begging your pardon, milady. I thought you were Roger. I don’t know where that boy’s gone off to.”
“I’m sorry, but he’s not out here.” She smiled. “Can I assume that you are the famous Mr. Mauston?”
He bowed his head sheepishly. “Yes, but not famous, milady.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. I’ve tasted those honey cakes, and even though Mrs. Huff has been the cook at Dettamoor Park for as long as I’ve been alive and would have my head for saying so, I can tell you that there is not a better cake around.”
“Much obliged. I’m sure Mrs. Huff is quite a fine cook.”
“Yes, good country food. But you have a way with supper that is altogether different. That soup last night was divine. Such a light touch with the cream, such a delicate flavor of watercress with the hint of sweet onion . . . but I’m rattling on when all you want is to find poor Roger. If he comes this way, I will send him back to the kitchen.”
Mr. Mauston bowed again, this time bending at the waist. “Thank you very much, milady.”
Chapter Four
Despite the marquess’s objections, Lady Levanwood won the argument and cards for the Levanwood ball were sent around to all of the best families. The day of the event dawned fair and surprisingly mild. Lady Levanwood, perhaps to heighten the interest in her soirée, had kept Althea and Jane hidden away from a wider society than a couple of small parties could afford.
Madame Longet delivered Althea and Jane’s dresses right on time and then several more once she realized how quickly Althea and Jane paid all of their bills. The Dettamoor Park ladies also
found time to visit Madame Harvey. Althea was now the proud owner of several coal scuttle bonnets for daily use and enough delicate lace caps to last all season.
The house came alive with noise and excitement. Servants rushed to and fro carrying chests of silver and boxes of glassware. There were deliveries of every sort. Althea could hear the stomp of boots up the back stairs and the murmur of voices. She donned an old gray dress and a new lace cap and sent Sally away as quickly as possible. The poor girl had been absorbed into the massive Levanwood workforce and looked so distracted that Althea pitied her. However delightful a ball was to the masters, the servants paid the price for so much frivolity.
Althea found Charles the only occupant of the breakfast parlor, but he hailed her with such good humor that she did not want for greater company.
“Cousin, I did not expect to find you dressed so early. I’m sure my mother must have kept you up half the night describing the anticipated glories of tonight’s festivities.”
Althea smiled and then selected a slice of ham from the chafing dish. “She did paint a delightful picture, but I am like the birds and cannot stand to miss the morning.”
He seemed much struck by the remark. “We are of a common mind and shall be outnumbered in this family. Should you like a cup of hot chocolate? Here, let me pour you one.”
“Oh yes, thank you.” She sat across from him. “I presume that the rest of the family have not breakfasted yet?”
“Heavens no! Nor are they like to. One has to save one’s strength for the dancing, you understand.”
“Perfectly. But you do not dance?”
“Very poorly, I admit. Although I hope you will forgive the impertinence if I ask for the favor of a dance from you, Cousin Althea?”
“I’d be delighted. We shall be well matched, for I haven’t danced above a dozen times since my marriage. Sir Arthur was not so fond of dancing, you see. In fact, I think he thought it a great waste of time.” She took a sip of chocolate.
Charles hesitated a moment and then said, “I have always regretted the inability of our side of the family to—to maintain the proper connection with Sir Arthur.”