I rather agreed with the horse.
This could not be the right place. This was the wealthiest, most fashionable section of Loudon. The horsecab had not come to a stop before a single townhouse, but a palatial marble dwelling that took up the entire block on one side of a square.
"Aunt Gwin, whatever were you thinking," I murmured, and looked from the address to the house once more. My mother's handwriting is very neat and precise. The number carved in the lintel over the wide mahogany door was the same as on the paper. This was the right place.
"Please wait," I said to the driver.
I was almost afraid to climb from the horsecab and approach the door. When I climbed the steep steps to the roofed porch I saw the Owl crest and Cliff badge set in niches on either side of the door. This was indeed the right place.
The mahogany knocker was beautifully carved, but the door opened as I reached for it. A butler looked me over with a quick, assessing flick of his eyes. For a moment I thought he was ready to direct me to the servants' entrance - I was wearing the unfortunate blue plaid dress again - but he said, "You are expected, Dr. Cliff."
A footman was sent to deal with my luggage and pay the cabman. Star and I sailed in as though we belonged in this palace. The housekeeper arrived in the entrance hall and led me on a tour of the ground floor before taking me up a grand, sweeping staircase.
I was most impressed by the very modern bathing suite that took up much of the back of the house's ground floor. A vaulted room held a hypocaust-heated bathing pool under skylights. There was a cold pool, as well, and even a shower cubicle, since athletic gentlemen had begun to make this form of quick bathing fashionable. There were two changing rooms. And there were four - four - porcelain commodes discreetly tucked into small privacy rooms. Our house in Avan did contain a plumbed toilet, put in when the town installed sewage piping ten years ago, and our family was still considered shockingly radical by some of our neighbors. Wasteworkers were ever so much cheaper than the city sewage fees, and hauling away nightsoil gave employment to the poor. The notion of sanitation having an impact on health was still not appreciated by a good many people.
This lovely ground floor bathing suite was reached from the other floors by a back staircase, but the housekeeper took me to the first floor by the polished black marble front stairs. A mural depicting a sweeping view of a seacoast decorated the staircase wall. Since Loudon is near the center of Ang, which is the largest island of the empire, seascapes reminding folk that our strength is the sea are very popular in the landlocked city.
I was taken to a room done in pastels and flowers. It contained two single beds and a maid already unpacking my things. I noticed that my other clothes were already hanging in the wardrobe as she worked. I wondered if the local staff people were surprised at how we Cliffs liked sharing quarters when there were certainly enough bedrooms to go around, but that is our family custom.
The housekeeper gave a resigned sigh when Star jumped upon one of the beds, turned three times, and settled onto the white and blue satin bedcover.
I stepped in front of Star, and spoke to distract the housekeeper. "Who will I be sharing the room with?"
"Miss Seeli Cliff," she answered.
Ah, good. Seeli is Aunt Edime's daughter. She is a few months older than me, and we have always been close. It would be good to spend time with her, even though I would miss sharing with Belladem. Of course, Bell would be with her darling Dwie.
"Miss Seeli, and most of the other young ladies, are not at home at present," the housekeeper added. "But Lady Owl and Professor Cliff are currently in the green reception parlor. They would like you to join them once you have refreshed yourself from travel."
"Fine," I said, and I was grinning. "Thank you."
I was grubby, and also dying to try out the bathing suite downstairs.
I soaked and scrubbed until I practically shone, and there was a maid waiting to do my hair and help me dress when I emerged from the bath. I'd selected my gray and yellow frock, silk stockings, and dainty slippers to replace my practical traveling clothes and was soon presentable for company. I was also hungry and hoped there would be tea and biscuits waiting within the parlor when the housekeeper appeared to show me the way to where my family gathered.
A quick look around when I was ushered into the green reception room showed me that the place's name came from the malachite mantel over the fireplace, the green striped wallpaper, green tapestry curtains, and green patterned rugs scattered on the polished wood floor. The furniture was upholstered in shot-silk the color of eggshell; a handsome, imposing room. Not even a duchess would shy away from entering such a space. None were present at the moment, but Mother, Miss Apple, and Aunt Gwin occupied seats on the furniture grouping nearest to the fireplace. Miss Apple was reading a book, the other two women held lap desks and were wielding writing pens. It was Aunt Gwin who looked up first when I came into the room.
In another time Aunt Gwin would have been declared a Golden Beauty and been welcomed into the ranks of the ladies on the Isle of Beauty. A prince would have journeyed through sacred perils to court her as a consort and counselor - as the rare green-eyed blonds born of Welis blood were known to be wise as well as beautiful. In this modern age, she married Charle Owl and owned warehouses in several port towns on several islands. She also kept up a correspondence with a countless number of friends in all walks and stations of life. If I ever wanted to start a spy system, I would choose Aunt Gwin to run it.
Aunt Gwin put aside her lap desk and rose to meet me. "Child! It's been years!" We met in the center of the room. She clasped my hands and looked me over. "And why is your hair still as long as a mermaid's?"
Her hair, which contained some silver along with the gold, was fashioned in tousled ringlets around her still-youthful face. She glanced back at my mother. "I suppose she looked well enough in Seyemouth. It is likely a good thing she waited to do anything with her appearance before reaching Loudon." She looked back at me. "We'll send for Mr. Room. He's seen that all the boys and girls have been properly styled."
"Hello, Aunt Gwin," I said. I had no intention of letting this Mr. Room cut off my waist-long hair, but I would certainly let a fashionable hairdresser look me over and make suggestions. I glanced past her at a low, laden, table before the sofa. "Is there tea?"
A fresh pot and plate of treats were called for and I settled down on the couch, eager to catch up on news and plans and generally have a good gossip.
We started with my finding out which members of the extended family were in residence, who else was expected, and for how long. Actually, it started with my telling Mother that I brought no word of Alix. She answered that a message had arrived from him at the far northern port of Scarpflow. Alix's ship had docked there rather than at Seyemouth as expected.
The worry lifted from me at this news. It was the true beginning of my holiday.
I was told that most of the "children" were attending an art exhibit at one of Loudon's many civic halls. The choice of activities in Loudon is truly amazing.
"I can hardly wait to peruse the listings in the weekly circular," I said.
"I am sure you cannot," Aunt Gwin said. She wagged a finger at me. "Just as long as you don't plan on attending anything too esoteric for the next several months. I will not have you spending your time at talks on hydraulic engineering and such during the Season."
"But Gwin," Mother said. "That kind of lecture is exactly the sort of place most of the children are likely to find the perfect mates."
Aunt Gwin took this amiss. "We agreed that parties and balls were the important part of the schedule for the Season. Though I have no objection to theatricals, musicales, and perhaps some readings. Frivolity is the order of the day.”
"I was joking, Gwin," Mother said.
Aunt Gwin gave out a loud sigh. "Well, thank all the gods of mating, marriage, and childbirth for that."
"I agree with you that our children must be seen among the Best ranks of So
ciety."
"And those ranks have chosen frivolity for a while," Gwin said. "Our dear Emperor Marqs IV has ordered it to be so."
While they talked, I ate and sipped honeyed tea. Oddly enough, when I dabbed some apple jelly off my lips, up sprang a memory of being kissed. Why could I not get over one little kiss? I dropped the napkin back in my lap.
I jumped back in to the conversation once my stomach stopped taking up most of my attention. "Is it impertinent of me to wonder why the emperor has declared an official Season at all? Isn't there a war still on? A plague to fight? Colonies to be settled and defended? The Imperial Alliance to be bolstered? Don't we all have better things to do?"
"I have reared serious children," Mother confided to Aunt Gwin. "I thought you were looking forward to this," she added to me.
"I am. But-- I must admit to a certain amount of guilt, also."
"And you think the emperor should share that guilt?" Aunt Gwin asked.
"No. I only wonder what this is really all about. For what scheming under the surface do I really have to thank my dance cards and party dresses?"
"I have also raised suspicious children," Mother said. "For which I am thankful."
"Society is in a bit of a dither at the moment," Aunt Gwin agreed. "But I'm certain the Imperial family's doings have only pleasant consequences for us right now. Rumor has it that the Dowager is pressing her son for more grandchildren. He has but one child, and she is rumored to be sickly. The poor child's mother died bearing her four years ago. It is time the Emperor had some new woman in his life. One cannot blame Empress Cesilee for not wishing to risk the fate of the dynasty on one child's life."
Mother nodded. "She provided the Shield family with three heirs. Think how disastrous it would have been if she'd had only one child."
Empress Cesilee had never officially wed, nor had she named the father or fathers of her acknowledged children. How could she, when the royal families of so many lands had not survived the plague? When other royalty chose to keep their countries out of the war between Ang and Framin by refusing to ally by marriage with us or Framin? When even marrying within the great noble families of Ang would have caused factionalism in a time when the Empire could not afford internal strife?
It was believed that she and General Lian Eagle, Lord West, commander of the Marine Corps, were long-time lovers, and that he is the current emperor's father. No one in my station in life knew for sure, of course. It was probably no business of ours, anyway, except where the lives of the imperial family concerned the ruling of the country. For example, I believe the dowager's decision to abdicate complete control of the Empire to her remaining child after he reached his majority was a wise one. He is a very apt military commander, and she concentrates on the domestic policies of Ang.
"I suspect the emperor has no interest in finding a new lover and someone advised him to declare a Season as a distraction," Aunt Gwin said. "If he makes a point of circulating among some Duchess Balls, every noble girl in the room will dream she has a chance of being his lover, perhaps even his wife."
I laughed. "Those are shop girls' fantasies, aunt. No noble girl below the first rank has any such romantic illusions."
Aunt Gwin studied me with narrowed eyes. "Have you ever been young? Have you never dreamed?"
"Frequently," I answered. "Of octopi."
She gave an exaggerated shudder.
"Every girl has illusions," Mother said. "But the first-rank girls are the only ones with opportunities."
"Except during an Official Season," Aunt Gwin said. "Even you will have the chance to meet the emperor once or twice in the next several months, Megere. Perhaps you won't see the inside of a duchess's ballroom, but it is likely the Dowager will hold a Seekers Ball."
Mother folded her arms and gazed at me sternly. "Don't you dare bungle the opportunity to become Marqs Shield's consort, girl."
I reacted to this statement with complete confusion. Aunt Gwin was startled at the harsh words. It was Miss Apple who laughed first. Then the rest of us understood the joke. We laughed and laughed at the absurdity. Even Star added her barking to the hilarity.
Chapter Eighteen
Over the next days I disappeared into the swarm of cousins and all the necessary activity of preparing for the Season. Yes, more dress shopping ensued.
Personally, I prefer the jewel tones normally proper for evening wear, but a Season is supposed to be a light and airy affair, so I needed some pastels for Seasonal evening affairs. I settled on dresses of peach, willow green, and buttercup yellow that met with Aunt Gwin's definition of stylish. I am fond of blue, but light blue in the evening is reserved for ladies who are betrothed or recently married.
Despite a letter from Dr. Heron reminding me he thought we should wed, I was not an engaged person, so no evening blue for me.
I did honestly reply to Dr. Heron that I was still considering his proposal. He answered that he would come to Loudon when he could. I think he missed me. And I missed him, but within the center of all the Cliff and Owl socializing I only noticed occasionally.
Of course a white Presentation dress had to be ordered, and a ball gown designed.
For these important gowns, four of us made an appointment at the exclusive establishment owned by the famous Arli Vine. Belladem had ordered her wedding clothes from Vine's before the Season announcement, or we likely would not have been granted an appointment with this very sought-after man. Our party included Bell and myself, Aunt Gwin and Uncle Charle's daughter Rhane Owl, and my roommate Seeli. Bell didn't want a presentation dress, but since she had agreed to sing at several upcoming parties, she had decided that a new performance gown was in order.
The dress shop in Seyemouth had been a homey place, busy, yet a comfortable place to shop. Mr. Vine's establishment was overwhelmingly Grand. Just because it was a dress shop did not mean that a customer saw bolts of fabric, cases of trim, tables of design books, or mannequins dressed in examples of the wares on offer. I saw no hint of what the place was actually used for when I walked through the door into Vine's lofty waiting room. We were shown to chairs and told to wait. The seats were deeply upholstered, we had fine portraits and rich wall hangings to look at, thick rugs under out feet, vases of fragrant flowers sat on side tables, but I didn't see a single dress. The place was meant to evoke awe, I suppose.
Awe is something I might experience standing near a firing eighty-four pounder. Awe is something Bell might experience when singing the solo Solstice Chants at First Temple, though people were more likely to be in awe of her. Seeli Cliff might experience a certain amount of awe if she was standing in the center of the vault of the Imperial Treasury, although her next impulse would be to reorganize the empire's finances. But Rhane, Rhane Owl was only seventeen, on her first trip away from a quiet life on Welis where she was apprenticed to a lawyer. Rhane's lovely gray eyes were wide as she took in the splendor. I think it is best to be young and inexperienced to truly appreciate a Season properly.
We were offered wine with savory biscuits, rather than tea, which Rhane thought very sophisticated. We let her have a small glass. In fact, that was all any of us had. No reason to be talked into something extravagant while giddy. I would far rather be extravagant while sober.
Being us, we chatted happily while we waited without getting the least bit bored or restless. I believe we began to irritate the staff after a while.
When we were shown into the proprietor's design studio, Belladem commented, "This is the shortest time I have ever had to wait to see Mr. Vine."
I looked around the well-lit room we entered. "Now, this is more like it."
Bolts of the most luxurious fabrics I had ever seen leaned one above the other on a trio of narrow shelves along one wall. Tall windows and glass-paned doors along two other walls showed a magnificently flowering garden behind the building. I admired this show of color. The studio contained mirrors and fitting mannequins, cutting tables, a wide drawing board. Nothing was quite neat, nor was there
any chaos to the stacks and folds of cloth and frocks under construction. There was a desk on the side of the room closest to the bolts of material where a long, thin man sat, leaning over a writing pad. I smiled, seeing that he was also left-handed.
He put down his pen and looked up, and stood in one graceful motion. I was correct in assuming he was a tall man, but he proved to be taller than I expected. His name may be Vine, but Heron or Crane would suit him better if our surnames were still chosen by our attributes as they had been in the past.
He came toward us with a wide smile on his hatchet-thin face. He had wispy light brown hair floating around his head and was dressed in simple black trousers and a white shirt covered with a long, wine-colored vest. The lack of extravagance in his own clothing reassured me.
"Good afternoon, ladies," he greeted us, giving a slight bow. He turned his smile on my sister. "Cleric Cliff, I heard you at First Temple last week. It was a stunning, stirring performance." He made a graceful gesture, taking in the rest of us.
Belladem bobbed a curtsy and the rest of us followed her lead. She then introduced us, and Mr. Vine gestured us into chairs set before his desk.
When he was seated across from us, he glanced at a note before he folded his hands together on the desktop. "Presentation and ball gowns," he said. "That is what everyone wants at the moment. I can promise you the best. And, of course I will charge you fortunes for them. But..." he held up a finger. "...the good thing about a Presentation dress is that it also makes a lovely wedding dress. When you need it, bring the white dress back to me and I will dye it blue for you without any extra charge."
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