Ridiculous

by D. L. Carter

  “North. Excellent. Dare I hope you are here to request my aid in improving your wardrobe? If necessary I shall accompany you to Nestor’s and add my voice to yours in the hope he will accept your apology.”

  Millicent waved her hand, dismissing the offer. “I called upon Nestor two days ago. If you ask him I think you will find he likes me well enough.”

  “Indeed?” Shoffer stepped back and examined the lines of Millicent’s baggy clothing with an air of disbelief. “Why ever for?”

  “I paid off one of Beau Brummel’s debts.”

  That set the duke back on his heels.

  “Good God, why? I hope you do not expect him to thank you.”

  “I have no intention of informing him of the action at all.” Millicent began prowling the room. “It is enough for me to know that I have done so. When he took notice of my cousins he raised them from simple country gels to London sophisticates and I am grateful. And, before you ask, I did speak to Nestor about my clothing. He had heard enough rumors about my appearance to be – let us not say eager – but resigned to accept another commission from me. And since I promised to enter and leave through the back door until he is satisfied with me, we are in good humor with each other.”

  “Well, then, I see that I am not needed in the matter of your wardrobe.”

  Millicent smiled while behind her teeth the words, “I shall always need you” begged to be spoken. He was particularly handsome this morning in a dark green cut away coat and fawn buckskins hugging his muscular thighs. Even at rest in his home Shoffer radiated strength and authority.

  “I should thank you, Your Grace,” she said instead. “The invitations that you promised even now rain down upon my household. When I left the ladies were creating a calendar for the rest of the season and arguing over which entertainments to attend.”

  “I am pleased to hear the ton has taken you to its bosom; although, I will take little credit beyond the first. Your cousins acquitted themselves well and you have been well received, despite your unfortunate clothing.”

  Shoffer grinned at his own joke and relaxed in his chair.

  “All good things come with a price,” sighed Millicent. “If possible, I must apply again to Mr. Simpson for aid.”

  Shoffer sent a loitering footman off with the message and directed Millicent to a chair. Mr. Simpson appeared almost immediately.

  “There is the fellow, the miracle worker,” cried Millicent. “Again I throw myself at your mercy, Mr. Simpson.”

  “How may I be of service?” inquired Mr. Simpson.

  “Oh, it seems I must have a town carriage. The ladies of my household have been cheerfully going hither and yon in hackneys these past few days, but, woe is me, once they had been taken up in His Grace’s equipage nothing would do but they have their own carriage.”

  “I have seen the floor of a hired hackney,” said the duke. “They are disgusting; therefore, I find I am in sympathy with the ladies. You will find, my dear Mr. North, that carriages take some time to build. You ought to have commissioned one the same time you looked for a rental house.”

  “Commissioned? You mean new?” Millicent allowed both eyebrows to rise. “My dear duke, I thought you knew me. Certainly not new. I was going to ask Mr. Simpson, who knows everything about everybody, if he knew of anyone who was planning on selling an old carriage. Surely, there is someone who has gambled what he should not, or another who has a new carriage and who now has a used carriage I might purchase.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then the duke raised his hand to heaven and began to laugh. “Why am I surprised? Why?”

  “Certainly, I wonder that myself,” said Millicent. “After all, I do have two young ladies to fire off. I must make economies where I can.”

  Simpson by this time was shaking his head as he made a notation on a scrap of parchment. “When I have the names for you, shall I make an appointment for you to view the equipages?”

  “Certainly not. Take them around to my house and ask the ladies to choose. They are the ones who shall be using it, after all. I find I prefer to walk.”

  If he was surprised Mr. Simpson declined to show it.

  “I shall begin inquiries immediately.” Simpson nodded to Shoffer and disappeared into the depths of the house.

  “And you, Mr. North,” said Shoffer, “now that you have discharged your errand, how are you planning to occupy yourself today?”

  “This is my first visit to London. I thought to see the House of Lords and the Palace. I cannot go back to wild and untamed Yoooooorrrrkshire and say that I never visited the King!”

  Shoffer laughed.

  “Oh, very well, we shall embarrass ourselves by appearing the awed and impressed country bumpkins and gawk at the fine houses.”

  “It is not necessary for you to accompany me. I do not mean to impose.”

  “Bother that, North, it is no imposition. I have just left my sister who needs me not at all. She informed me that she intends to call upon your family and take them to see those sights that young ladies so admire.”

  “Bond Street,” sighed Millicent.

  “Indeed. So you best prepare for another round of invoices.”

  Millicent groaned.

  “Go home,” commanded Shoffer. “Put on your riding gear. I shall come fetch you in a quarter hour. You do not know the capitol well enough to be allowed out alone. Perhaps by visiting some of the stately buildings and historical monuments you might begin to acquire some much needed town bronze.”

  Millicent rose to leave. “Bronze? My dear sir, the most you can hope for in my case is tin.”

  True to his word the duke followed her home, then accompanied Millicent on an extended tour of the city. They rode for a time, sampled ices at Gunter’s – Shoffer extracted a promise from Millicent that Beth would not be told of this indulgence since the promised visit had not yet taken place – and generally wandered.

  Millicent could not remember a day she had enjoyed more. Shoffer was a charming and well-informed guide. Patient with her questions. Indulgent with her jokes. When they paused at a coffee shop to rest, and Millicent found herself listening to his description of the doings of Parliament, she hugged the moment to her heart and enshrined it in her memory.

  He would never have relaxed so in the presence of one of the many débutantes who cluttered up the capitol. His own wife would not share a public meal with him like this. There were many advantages to being Shoffer’s friend. She could bask daily in the sunshine of his smile.

  Today was the most perfect day of her life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Her good mood lasted only until she reached the rental house. Merit opened the door and almost dragged her in by the collar.

  “Oh, sir, thank God you are home. The ladies are in such a taking I do not know which way to look.”

  “Which one of the ladies?” began Millicent, then heard her mother’s shriek. “Ah, I see.” Millicent handed her hat to the butler and began removing her gloves. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Near to an hour, sir.”

  “Then tea will not do.” Millicent shook her head. “Have brandy sent up … and have a glass yourself.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Shrieks and sobs, interspersed by Mildred’s tired voice drew Millicent to the family bedrooms. The noise, she discovered, was coming from Maude’s room. Standing in the corridor Millicent wondered if her father had ever hesitated in this manner. Given that he was married to Felicity for two decades it was more than likely.

  Drawing a deep breath she knocked on the door frame.

  Inside the room her mother was kneeling on the floor, her hands covering her face while Mildred and three maids hovered about trying to calm her.

  “Oh, Mr. North,” cried Mildred, looking up. “I am so glad to see you.”

  “I imagine so,” sighed Millicent. “What has set her off this time?”

  “Can you not see?” sobbed Felicity. “Oh, my poor daughter. Ruin
ed. Ruined.”

  “We have only been in town a few days,” protested Millicent. “How could she be ruined in that time?”

  “Look at her hair!”

  Millicent climbed over her mother’s recumbent form and walked to the bed where Maude lay burrowed under the quilts. Whether to hide from her mother’s wrath or the noise, Millicent had no idea. With Mildred’s assistance she pulled down the blankets. Maude was curled up in the middle of the bed, her hands over her recently shorn head. Instead of the long gold hair that Millicent had envied, Maude’s hair was now a short cap of gold curls.

  “Good Lord, Maude,” said Millicent. “What has happened to you?”

  “You do not like it,” wept Maude, reaching for the coverlet.

  “I did not say that,” Millicent exchanged a frustrated glance with Mildred. “I only asked where and who trimmed your hair.”

  “Trimmed? They shaved her bald!” cried Felicity.

  “Felicity, please, you are not helping.” Millicent spotted Merit and Felicity’s maid waiting outside and beckoned them in. “Come, cousin, sit up and take a sip of brandy. It will calm you.”

  While Felicity was being helped into a chair, Millicent drew Mildred to one side.

  “Tell me, quickly, what happened?”

  “Lady Beth invited Maude over for tea after we spent the morning shopping. I came home, for I was tired. While Maude was there, Lady Beth’s maid cut Maude’s hair. From what I can tell, as soon as it was done they both regretted it. Maude came home with a blanket over her head and Mother has been crying ever since.”

  “They will think she is fast,” cried Felicity. “Her reputation will be ruined. No good man will marry a girl with such wanton hair.”

  Maude shrieked and dived back under the covers.

  “Oh, dear God,” sighed Millicent.

  “Perhaps Maude could wear a wig,” suggested Mildred.

  “A wig? Why, for heaven’s sake?” Millicent lifted up a corner of the covers. “I think she looks very well, what I can see of her.”

  “Yes, a wig.” Felicity bounced to her feet and started pacing, jabbing her finger at Millicent. “You must go at once. Get a wig. In the Grecian style. Yes, that will look very well. We never could get Maude’s hair to cooperate for that style.”

  “Cousin Felicity, there is nothing wrong with curls. It is all the rage. We have seen women with just that style at every party we have attended. Personally, I am jealous. My hair is straight as can be and nothing can make it look the latest style. You should be pleased she looks so fashionable.”

  “A wig, Mr. North.” Felicity pulled herself up to her full height. “We shall none of us attend any events until Maude’s head is decently covered.”

  “Do not be unreasonable…” began Millicent, then noticed the close attention the servants were paying to them. Good gossip was currency to servants. Their own status in the world depended upon who they worked for and what the latest on-dits were.

  Glancing around Millicent realized she was standing in the middle of her sister’s bedroom, a place no unmarried gentleman should find himself. Bowing to her mother she drew herself up and retreated. At the doorway she paused.

  “I believe, once you have calmed, you will realize that Maude’s hair is not the disaster you imagine. Her new maid is quite skilled in the latest London styles. Have her put a few ribbons through Maude’s hair and put on her best dress. You will see how well she looks.”

  “A wig,” shouted Felicity. “We shall not leave this house until one is found.”

  The door slammed in her face.

  Millicent turned and wandered through the house not realizing that Merit was following her until the butler cleared his throat.

  “Yes, Merit?”

  “I believe I can aid you with your task. I can recommend a talented barber, sir,” said the butler. “My last employer was a gentleman with an unfortunate bald pate. Every week, it seemed, I was sent to obtain a new wig or to have his current one restyled.”

  “Does he provide for ladies as well?”

  “Oh, of a certainty.”

  “Then, if you would be so kind, go and see this barber and bring back a selection of blond women’s wigs.” Millicent reached for her purse. “How much will you need?”

  “Oh, he knows me, sir, so he will let me have a few on account and I will take back the ones that do not suit.”

  “Thank you, Merit.”

  Once the butler was gone Millicent checked the time by the grandfather clock in the hall. Ton events kept ton hours. Although it was past seven in the evening, it was still too soon to leave for dances that did not start until nine or ten, or later.

  If they were leaving at all.

  It was unlikely that even Merit would be able to obtain a wig tonight and even if he did Felicity was in such a state that she would not enjoy the tension and crowds of a successful tonnish event.

  The rattle of plates and shuffle of feet in the dining room told her that the family planned to dine before embarking on this evening’s entertainment and the servants were busy preparing the table. Millicent stood in the hall and wondered what to do. Should she dress for the evening or not? Did Felicity’s prohibition on leaving the house apply to her, Mr. North?

  Since the last thing Shoffer had said to her was that he looked forward to that evening’s entertainment and the plan was that he would send around his second coach for the Boarder family, Millicent went to the study to draft a note. It was possible Shoffer already knew about the disastrous hairstyle from Beth. Still he should be advised that he need not have his horses put to or have his grooms labor unnecessarily with the carriage.

  The note sent, Millicent peered into the dining room. The table was set, food prepared, and servants waiting to serve. Even though she was not dressed properly, Millicent went into the room, sat alone, and dined. If the ladies of the house wanted food they would have to come down and get it, since Millicent also directed that no trays be taken to rooms that evening.

  There were, Millicent decided, as her orders were obeyed without protest, some advantages to being male.

  * * *

  Mildred arrived before the covers were taken away.

  “Are you going out tonight?” she demanded without preamble.

  Millicent shrugged. “I have no idea. I assumed not so sent a message to Shoffer saying we would be spending the evening at home.”

  “Oh, bother.” Mildred sat and stared at the empty plate before her.

  “Do you want something to eat?”

  “Oh, the dessert will do,” Mildred smiled at her sister. “I commend you for the cook you hired. He has a way with sponge cake that I admire.”

  “Thank Mr. Simpson. He took care of all that. And you, was there a particular reason that you wanted to go out tonight? A beau, perhaps?”

  An attentive servant placed a dish of poached pears with clotted cream before Mildred.

  “Beau? Me? Good heavens, no, North. It is my concern for your current status that prompts me to suggest you should not miss an event where you are expected. You are fashionable at the moment. It would not do for the hostesses to discover you could not be relied upon.”

  “You have a point, and Lady Fenton did approach me personally last night to confirm my attendance.” Millicent leaned back in her chair, eyes closed. “What should I do?”

  “While a lady cannot attend a party alone without causing comment, a gentleman may do so at will.”

  “I do know that, Mildred, but the entire point of us coming to London is for you and Maude to parade along the marriage mart.”

  “I could come with you. A male cousin is an unremarkable escort. We sent in our acceptance. Someone should go.” Mildred grinned. “I only say that since it would be impolite not to.”

  “Yes, I see you are motivated by sincere disinterest.” Millicent nodded, even as she shared a smile with her sister. “I suppose we could walk over. Shoffer was right. This house is close enough to walk to most of the best pa
rties.”

  “Walk? Walk to an evening engagement? Never! Mr. North, have you forgotten, we have our own equipage!”

  “Really? Since when?”

  “Since the very efficient Mr. Simpson brought it around.”

  “I did not know that. No one discussed the pricing with me. What size is it? Where do I go to hire a driver or reserve a place in the Mews?”

  “Oh, Mr. Simpson took care of all that.” Mildred waved her hand airily toward the rear of the house. “All we need do when we want to go out is to ask Merit to send for it. Shall we do it now? I should like to make my first foray into society in my own carriage.”

  “Your carriage? Oh, well. But, I should like to know, how much is all this costing?”

  “Does it matter?” asked Mildred.

  “Well, yes, a little,” cried Millicent. “We are not all that wealthy and this year has more expenses than Mr. North’s estate usually carries. Added to that, I was required to grant more than a few of our tenants extensions on their rents or reductions due to it being a poor season.”

  “How am I supposed to know?” Mildred’s raised voice gathered more than a little attention from the watching footmen. “You say nothing to us about money. You say nothing at all that cannot be taken as a joke.”

  Millicent flushed as she realized the truth of that accusation. Like many men of the ton she had considered the women of her family unable to comprehend the complexities of finances. And she was a woman!

  “Please, Mildred…” Millicent stammered. “I am so sorry. I should have done better.”

  “You certainly should have, Mr. North. You used to talk to me about everything and this last year we barely saw you, heard from you. If you do not share your troubles and concerns with me, you cannot expect me to be able to help!”

  “Dear God,” moaned Millicent, hanging her head and pressing her fingers to her temples where a headache threatened.

  “And moderate your language in the presence of ladies. I have noticed a regrettable tendency toward swearing of late. Most ungentlemanly.”

  That at least brought a smile to Millicent’s face.