by Liese Anning
Lord Harrington chuckled, 'I would have recognised you as Viola's daughter anywhere.'
Dinner was a quiet affair. Verity did not realise that Lady Harrington had persuaded her husband to cancel a long-standing engagement to entertain Verity. If Verity had known the trouble they had gone to on her behalf, she would have refused the invitation.
As they ate, the conversation flowed. It was evident that Lord and Lady Harrington, after six and twenty years of marriage, were still very much in love. Verity was touched by the tenderness they naturally shared with one another. They asked questions about the school that Verity taught in and questioned her about her duties. Unlike that afternoon, at Lady Wrexham's, they did not make Verity feel like she was inferior. They seemed to be genuinely interested in the education of girls. Lady Harrington told Verity about the various school for girls’ she supported back in London. Instead of looking bored and disinterested, like many gentlemen would Lord Harrington also joined in on the conversation.
Once the meal was over, Lady Harrington stood up. 'Verity,' she said, 'we shall leave his lordship to his port and retire to the drawing room.' She smiled at her husband and bent down to kiss him on the cheek.
'I have some correspondence that requires my attention. I shall join you presently for tea,' Lord Harrington said cheerfully to his wife.
The two women returned to the drawing room and sat in chairs opposite each other by the fireplace. 'Miss Stanford, my dear,' she said, 'would you be offended if I called you Verity?'
Verity shook her head. 'I do not mind,' she replied smiling at her ladyship.
'Do you know why your mother called you Verity?' she asked.
Verity shook her head, 'no,' she said, 'my mother never told me.'
'Did you know she had a twin sister?'
Verity shook her head, 'no I did not,' she replied.
They were identical in every way. They wore the same dresses and styled their hair in the same style. Even their names began with the same letter, V. They had lost their parents when they were small children, and they lived with guardians. When they were thirteen, a few years before I knew your mother, both sisters contracted a nasty strain of influenza. They were both very sick, and everyone thought they would both be lost. However, against all the odds, Viola recovered. Your mother always said she would name her first daughter after her sister.'
'How did you meet my mother?' Verity asked a little nervously.
'I met Viola on my first day in London. I was seventeen, the same age as your mother, and my family had brought me to the city for the season. Your mother lived, with her guardians, in the house next door to ours. We were still only girls and terribly excited about the season ahead. We were kindred spirits and became firm friends. Your mother treated me like the sister she lost only a few years ago.'
'You said she had red hair, just like mine,' Verity asked curiously. She wanted to know more about the girl Lady Harrington was describing; it did not match up with the melancholy woman she eventually knew.
'Yes,' she said smiling, 'it was the same shade as yours, and she was so proud of it.' Lady Harrington chuckled to herself at the memory. 'At the time, bright red hair was unfashionable, but your mother's hair was not bright, it was a lighter shade of red, just like yours. Even though it was all the rage, she never wore a wig and she certainly never powdered it. She just curled it and wore it loose around her shoulders, simply decorating it with only a few ribbons and combs.'
'Your mother also had the same honey coloured eyes as you, as well as the same pale flawless complexion. She was tall, elegant, an excellent dancer and she had poise. After her first official engagement, when she was first introduced to society, she was hailed as a nonpareil. Every hostess, who was worth their salt, invited her to their functions. An evening never went past when Viola did not have several invitations.'
'How did she meet my father?' Verity asked curiously.
'Your mother was not only beautiful, but she was also an heiress. Viola had one of the largest dowries of all the debutants that season. She had an uncle, her mother's brother, who had lived most of his life in India. When she was fifteen years old, he died and left her the bulk of his fortune. Her guardians, who were distant relatives on her mother's side, brought her to London that season to find her a husband.'
'Your father, Sir Reginald Stanford, was a very handsome gentleman. He usually steered clear of society engagements, but that year, he was in search of a wealthy young woman he could marry. Your mother fell in love with him from the first moment she saw him. He was tall, with blond hair and bright blue eyes, and he swept her off her feet. Her guardians, who were also the trustees of her fortune, did not like him and warned her about his profligate ways. Even back then, when he was still young, he had a reputation as a libertine, and scandals always seemed to cling to him like mud. But, as they say, love is blind.'
'Her guardians had made it clear to her that they would not give their permission for her marriage to Sir Reginald. If she eloped, she, and more importantly, her husband, would not see a penny of her fortune until she came of age when she was five and twenty. But, your father was a shrewd and cunning man.'
'Viola and I told each other everything. All those little secrets you keep hidden from the world. The gentlemen we thought we loved, those we danced with, even those we dared to kiss. Then one night, halfway through the season, we both went to Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens. It is a place where one can be easily compromised, and you always had to be on your guard against being on your own with a gentleman. Viola became separated from our group and disappeared for about an hour. I was anxious about her, but I was young and foolish and did not want to raise the alarm because I thought she might get into trouble with her guardians. When she eventually came back, she asked me to meet her later that night as she had a secret to tell me. I knew that something terrible had happened to her. The hem of her dress was torn, her cheeks were pale, and her eyes were red with tears.'
'Later that night, I sneaked across the attic, between our two houses, and met her in her room. She told me that Sir Reginald had taken her for a walk, by herself, down one of the deserted paths. And when he got her alone, he had forced himself upon her. But, that was not the worst thing that happened to her. He had made sure that more than one witness had seen him. They did not care that she did not want to be intimate with him, or that she screamed out in pain, they just stood by and observed a young woman's ruination without intervening.'
'The next day, along with one of the witnesses, Sir Reginald went to visit her guardians. The fault, as far as they were all concerned, was solely hers. He had cleverly twisted the facts, and they believed him, and no one in that room thought she was innocent. He made it sound like she had no morals, and he was doing them a service by taking a woman of disrepute of their hands. He made the proposal irresistible, by coming to a financial understanding with her guardians. Sir Reginald would immediately, as her husband, control her vast fortune, and her guardians would come into possession of a proportion of her estate. Everyone seemed to be satisfied, with the settlements, apart from Viola. She was terribly unhappy about the situation, but there was nothing she could do about it.'
'They were married within days by special license. Your father, not wanting to give her guardians a chance to change their minds, made sure the ceremony happened quickly.'
Lady Harrington took a deep breath. She was clearly upset by the conversation. 'But it is what happened next that still troubles me.' Lady Harrington took out her handkerchief from her reticule and wiped her eyes. 'Your mother changed overnight. She was no longer the confident young woman I had known. The vibrant woman I knew, was gone and had been replaced by a quiet mouse-like creature. Her hair that she had always been so proud of was covered up with a wig. I later found out, that soon after their marriage, he had shaved her head. I cannot imagine the humiliation she went through, during those first weeks of marriage.'
'He immediately returned to his profligate ways; he gambled,
drank heavily and flaunted his mistresses in front of her. At every opportunity, he publicly ridiculed her, until she became a laughing stock with the same people that, only a few weeks before, had admired her. She looked miserable. Her guardians, happy with their newly acquired fortune, just abandoned her to her fate. She was now her husband's property, and there was no escape from her prison. I wrote to her nearly every day, but she never replied. Viola was well and truly on her own. She was friendless, frightened and living with a tyrant.'
'How old were you when your mother died?' Lady Harrington asked, after a lull in the conversation.
'Nine,' Verity replied, 'I had just had my ninth birthday.'
'Do you mind me asking: how did she die?' Lady Harrington said softly, 'I never did find out.'
'My mother died when she gave birth to my brother,' Verity said, her head bowed, 'she was never a strong woman, and the doctor had warned her not to have any more children after my sister was born, but my father was desperate for a son.'
'I am sorry, my dear,' she said sympathetically, 'but you were far too young to lose your mother.'
'I do not think I ever really knew her. I certainly do not recognise the vivacious person you knew. To me she was always the opposite; dull and listless, rarely stirring from her sitting room, and only occasionally visiting me in the nursery. Come to think of it, when she came, she was always accompanied by my father.' Verity furrowed her brow, 'now I look back, I think my father must have separated us from each other on purpose. The last time I saw her, just before she died, she told me that she loved me very much.' Verity's eyes filled with tears. 'I think she knew she was not strong enough to survive the birth.
Lady Harrington came over to her, knelt down next to her chair and took her hands in hers. 'Verity,’ she said as she squeezed her hands, ‘I am so sorry.' Then Lady Harrington leant over and took Verity in her arms and hugged her like she was her daughter. Verity responded and relaxed in her arms, resting her head on her shoulder. 'What happened to you after your mother's death?'
'Before her funeral, I was sent away to school.'
'Oh, my dear,' Lady Harrington said visibly upset, 'you should have been at home with your family.'
'It was a relief to leave,' Verity said with a smile, 'I loved it at the school. The headmistress, Miss Crawford, was very kind to me, and I received an excellent education that allowed me to be independent of my father. I was quite happy to stay there during the holidays. Eventually, my sister Cassandra joined me at the school, and we became close. I did not return to Hadlands, my family home until my father died.'
They were interrupted by Lord Harrington quietly entering the drawing room. Lady Harrington touched Verity's cheek and smiled at her, 'come, my dear, I will ring the bell for tea.'
Once the tea had arrived, Lady Harrington said, 'you mentioned a brother. He cannot be more than fifteen years old. Is he at Eton or Harrow?'
'He was at Harrow, but his guardians allowed him to use his inheritance to buy a commission in the cavalry,' Verity said, 'he is here in Brussels.'
Lord Harrington then said in surprise, 'in Brussels? Which regiment?'
After Verity, had explained her brother's rank and regiment, to Lord Harrington, she then added, 'I did not know he was here until I accidentally met him a few weeks ago.'
'What about your sister? Is she also here with you in Brussels?' Lady Harrington asked.
'My younger sister died last year in a carriage accident.' Verity did not feel guilty lying about her sister. How could she explain to Lady Harrington what had happened to Cassie? She was still in disbelief regarding her sister's fate herself.
'I am sorry, my dear,' Lady Harrington said.
'Have you asked her about our invitation?' Lord Harrington then asked his wife.
Lady Harrington shook her head, then she turned to Verity, 'Verity, my dear,' she said smiling at her, 'I have a proposal for you. I have been discussing your situation with Harry, Lord Harrington, and we would very much like you to come and stay with us as our special guest.'
Verity looked nervously at Lord and Lady Harrington, 'I do not want to put you to any trouble.'
'Nonsense, my dear,' Lady Harrington said dismissively, 'we would love you to come and stay with us.'
'Indeed, we would,' Lord Harrington said, reiterating his wife's invitation, 'we have plenty of room, you know.'
'You were very kind, but I could not impose on your hospitality.' Verity said.
Lord Harrington then said, with authority, 'Miss Stanford, there would be no imposition on your part. You would, in all honesty, be doing us a service. Last year, at the end of the season, our youngest daughter married. She was the last one, of our three daughters, to leave and now our house seems empty without them. Lavinia is particularly feeling their loss. I am out on business during the day and most evenings and Lavinia is often by herself. If you came and stayed with us, you would be able to keep each other company. And I would feel less guilty about constantly leaving her by herself.'
'Yes, my dear,' Lady Harrington said, 'I miss having the company of young people around. Please say you will come and stay.'
'I would have to ask Madame DuPont, the headmistress of the school in Brussels, to see if she could spare me.' Verity replied.
'Good,' Lord Harrington said decisively, 'that is settled. We will all go and talk to her in the morning.'
Chapter 20
By the next evening, Verity had packed up all her belongings and had moved into the Harrington's townhouse. Lady Harrington had been genuinely overjoyed to welcome Verity into her home. It was all rather strange. Verity had never resided in a house like the Harrington's. During the first nine years of her life, she had been locked away in the nursery at Hadlands, with only her severe nurse and her even more foreboding governess in attendance. Then she had resided, all year around in an all-female environment, at the Bristol Academy. Now she was living in a proper home, complete with a couple who doted on each other.
She was given a large bedchamber at the back of the house. Lady Harrington had amused Verity when she apologised for its size. ‘I am so sorry, my dear,’ she had said when they entered the room for the first time, ‘I know that it is rather small.’
Verity had tried to reassure Lady Harrington. ‘My lady,’ Verity said as she looked around the room for the first time, ‘it is beautiful.’ She went over to the window and looked out to see a charming courtyard garden. ‘And, I have a view of the garden. It is perfect.’
'My mantua-maker will be along in the morning to measure you for some dresses,' she had said to Verity.
'Thank you for your kindness,' Verity had replied, turning around to look at her again, 'but it is not necessary to buy me any new clothes.'
'Nonsense,' was the reply, 'as my companion, you will accompany me to formal engagements, and you must have a smart wardrobe. Anyway,' Lady Harrington then added, 'you are the daughter of a baronet, and your mother's bloodline was second to none. You deserve to take your place in society.'
Verity did not reply because she knew that everything Lady Harrington had said to her was true. She could hardly accompany her ladyship to fashionable engagements, dressed in the sensible dull dresses she wore to work. The previous afternoon, at Lady Wrexham's, she had been given an insight into the strange new world she was about to enter, and there was not one item in her wardrobe that would serve that purpose. However, Verity was not prepared for the sheer volume of dresses and accessories that Lady Harrington had ordered for her.
Verity had tried to dissuade her ladyship from ordering her so much. But, Verity soon learnt that once Lady Harrington had made a decision, there was no point arguing with her. Eventually, after trying her best to stop her, she had given up. Verity just stood quietly as the mantua-maker measured her for her new wardrobe, while her ladyship looked on, making her recommendations for materials, styles and colours.
It was not until they discussed a ball gown, when Verity, at last, found her voice. 'A ball gown,' she
had said with concern, 'I do not think that is necessary. I will never be invited to a ball.'
'Nonsense,' was the reply, 'of course you will be invited. In fact, you have already been invited to the Duchess of Richmond's ball on the fifteenth, and everybody who's anybody will be there.'
'I already have a couple of dresses with me that will fit Mademoiselle,' the mantua-maker said, 'one of my clients unexpectedly left Brussels only a few days ago. She was tall and slim just like Mademoiselle.'
Lady Harrington looked critically at the dresses the mantua-maker had bought and selected a couple for Verity to try on. After some minor alterations, the dresses fitted perfectly. The first was a light muslin day dress with a green bodice and a similar coloured floral pattern on the skirt. The other dress was beautiful and fitted her to perfection. It was a silk ivory evening dress, with had a high waist and a gold embroidered bodice.
Verity would have been more than happy with just those two dresses, but Lady Harrington had ordered more. 'Thank you, my lady,' Verity had said, when the mantua-maker had gone, 'you have been very generous.'
'It is the least I can do,' Lady Harrington said in reply, 'but, my dear,' she continued, 'I have not finished with you quite yet. This afternoon put on that day dress and we will go shopping for accessories.'
'I do not...' Verity wanted to explain to her that she did not require anything else. But Lady Harrington gave her usual reply.
'Nonsense, my dear, I have not had so much fun since I have arrived in Brussels.'
After lunch, Lady Harrington was true to her word. Verity, for the first time in her life, found herself travelling in a smart barouche through the streets of Brussels. The open top allowed Lady Harrington to nod to her acquaintances as they slowly meandered through the cobbled streets. They were deposited, by the driver, in the centre of Brussels. Verity recognised the street, where they were deposited by the driver, from her shopping expedition with Maisie.
Lady Harrington was in her element. She went from shop to shop buying accessories for both herself and Verity. Verity had tried, several times, to stop her from spending too much money on her, but, as she already knew, arguing with Lady Harrington was a waste of time.