Charlotte: The Practical Education of a Distressed Gentlewoman

by Amelia Grace Treader

Freddy laughed, “Twenty pounds we don't?”

  “I never gamble, especially not with you, you know that.”

  Lizzy went in search of her maid, and eventually found her upstairs unpacking Miss Elizabeth's wardrobe.

  “Martha?”

  “Yes Miss?”

  “I need to you help me pack Miss De Vere's gowns and things.”

  “But Miss Elizabeth, I should like to finish with your clothes.”

  “They're not going anywhere are they?”

  “No.”

  “I have things ready that I can wear for the next few days, don't I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can help me with hers first. That way we have space for mine.”

  “Miss, I'd rather get these done.”

  “Martha.” Despite her cheerful and well-mannered surface, Elizabeth Talbot was fully capable of being just as demanding and iron-willed as any other member of her family. Martha knew that dangerous tone of voice and was well aware that it implied an order rather than her usual pleasant request.

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “Thank you.”

  In what had been Miss De Vere's room, as they started taking the dresses and gowns down from their hangers and carefully folding them into a traveling case, Elizabeth commented, “Martha, I'm not sure that Freddy wasn't right to just sell these. They're all so out of date and frumpy. I'd be ashamed to wear one as a masquerade costume, let alone to a ball.”

  Martha agreed. Elizabeth continued, “But if Miss De Vere wants them, then she'd best get them.”

  They were about half-way through the clothes when Freddy joined them for a few minutes. “I heard what you said about these clothes. You're right, even a mere male like me can see that they're so gauche as to be only suited for a dowd or a frump. It's almost a sartorial solecism to be in the same room with them.”

  “It's a shame because Charlotte would look much nicer if she were well-dressed. She needs to catch a husband if she can.”

  “Not me.”

  “I didn't mean that.”

  “Good. I hope that's clear. But you're right, she would look much better in a fashionable gown.” Freddy quietly pulled out an old and worn hundred-pound note and slipped into a sleeve on one of the dresses lying on the top of the pile. It would look like it had been misplaced a while ago and was just now found. Lizzy noticed. “Freddy, that's so sweet of you.”

  “No it's not sweet. It's a speculative investment. If she gets married, then maybe I can deal with a rational man about the farms. Failing that, it won't be so evil when I foreclose on them. Not if she has somewhere else to live.”

  “Freddy, it's still sweet.”

  “If you get the chance, make sure she's decently clothed. Take her to Bath and find a stylish mantua maker if you can. You can practice your matchmaking on her, as long as you leave me out of it.”

  “A ton won't go far at any good dressmakers.”

  “I can give you another note if you need it. Please don't tell her where the note came from.”

  “Why not?”

  “She'd just send it back and I'd have to find another way to shift her.”

  Once the clothes were packed, Lizzy wrote a short note and had the village carrier take them to Miss De Vere.

  The reason the invitation to the ball had not arrived was that Dr. Answorth was going to deliver it when he called on the Talbot's to welcome them to his parish. He and his groom pulled his gig up in front of the house, and were directed to the stable-yard. There was a knot of farmers sitting and discussing something. Most of the farmers stood up and touched their foreheads in salute when he climbed down from the gig. One man didn't. While he was dressed much the same as most of his companions, he was older than most of them and far less sunburned. Dr. Answorth walked to him and asked, “I'm looking for Mr. Talbot. Have you seen him?”

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Answorth stumbled a second at this apparently unhelpful answer. “Where?”

  “Unless you're looking for my son Frederick, here. I'm George Talbot, and you're?”

  “I'm sorry. I'm Dr. James Answorth, the vicar.”

  “I was wondering when we'd meet. I'd heard about you.” He turned to the farmers and suggested that they continue discussions later. “You've given me much to consider. I'd best entertain this gentleman.”

  Joyfully pumping Dr. Answorth's hand, Mr. Talbot asked, “What can I do for you? There's some decent sherry in the hall, and I'm sure you're thirsty.”

  “I wouldn't say no to it.”

  Mr. Talbot led his guest into the house and sat him in the main parlor. He rang and when his butler arrived asked, “Bring us some sherry please, and if you would please, the good sherry I brought from London.”

  “The sherry from London?” The butler waited, hoping to have that part of the order rescinded.

  “I suppose Lord Staverton's was saving his blunt on his sherry. Awful stuff.”

  “It is Mountain Malaga sherry. He selected a very fine vintage.”

  “Really?” He turned to his butler, who hadn't left, “Why don't you bring us a glass of both? That way we can see. Also, can you see if Mrs. Talbot is free?”

  While the butler was on his errand, Mr. Talbot asked, “So what brings you to the hall?”

  “To welcome you to the parish, and to pass on this invitation to a ball at the parish hall next week.”

  “A ball? Lizzy will like that. When?”

  “Thursday evening.”

  “Good, Freddy will be back from London by then.”

  “He's in London?”

  “Business. There were pressing issues that required his presence.”

  “I was curious, is he intending to settle here?”

  “Freddy, no, at least not yet. Me, yes.”

  “Can I ask what your plans are?”

  “Martha and I started poor and worked damned hard to make something of ourselves. Well, we've done it and raised two fine children on the way. Too many of my friends worked until the day they dropped and never did anything good or had any pleasure with the money they raised. That's avarice for you, money for money's sake.”

  “So are you planning to retire to the countryside?”

  “Not quite. Freddy's sharp so I'm letting him spread his wings in our London house. I'll still keep an eye on things, of course. Meanwhile, thought we'd see what we can do in the country.”

  “I don't understand.”

  His wife silently came in, and curtsied to the rector, “Vicar, so pleased to meet you.”

  The vicar rose, somewhat belatedly, and bowed in return. “Mrs Talbot, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Martha,” Mr. Talbot continued, “I was just telling the Reverend about our plans.”

  “We want to give some poor children a chance. Make life a little easier for them.”

  “Was that what you were discussing with the farmers?”

  “Not directly, I asked about the parish school, but mostly how their farms worked.”

  “Farms worked?”

  “How did they make money, what banking did they do. The business of farming.”

  “How dull.”

  “Nay, not at all. Most of their needs were very small, a new plow blade might be ten pounds. If you don't have ten pounds when you need it then it might as well be a hundred or a thousand. I was also wondering if some form of insurance would be useful.”

  Mrs. Talbot beamed, “That's my George, always thinking of how to make money work.”

  “Insurance?”

  “Thinking of organizing a pool or a farmer's bank, so if the crops fail, there's something for them. Wouldn't take much capital to start and it could make their lives a great deal easier.”

  Looking at the clock on the mantelpiece and realizing that he'd outstayed a social call, the vicar rose and started to make his excuses.

  “Dr. Answorth, please stay and try the sherry. I'm no connoisseur and if the mountain wine is better I'd like to know why.”

&
nbsp; Finally, freed from the garrulous and tenacious Mr. Talbot, Dr. Answorth found his gig and headed back to the rectory. It was his opinion that the Talbot family, senior, was definitely best endured in small doses. At least the man could learn to appreciate the difference between that dreadful London plonk and Mountain Malaga, even the relatively cheap and nasty Malaga Lord Staverton stocked in his cellar.

  Back at the rectory, Charlotte was also finding that the younger Talbot's were best kept at a distance. As she and her maid unpacked the dresses, they came upon the 100 pound note Freddy had secreted. Immediately she knew what happened, or thought she did. There was simply no possible way her father would either have given her a ton or have forgotten about it if he had.

  “That Elizabeth Talbot! Thinking she can buy my favor with a bribe. I'll give her a piece of my mind when I see her next.”

  Charlotte didn't have long to wait for her chance. There was a loud knocking at the front door, which penetrated even to her upstairs room, and shortly afterwards a maid came up and asked, “Miss De Vere, Miss Talbot was here and wondering if you would like to converse with her.”

  “Yes,” Charlotte fumed, “Dearly.” She strode downstairs, banknote in hand, and confronted Miss Talbot.

  “What is this!”

  “It's a banknote, a hundred pounds from the look of it. I wouldn't wave it about like that. You might lose it.”

  “That's right. What was it doing in my dresses?”

  “Didn't you forget it in your dress and just find it?”

  “I've never had this much money in my hands at once, and my father would never have given it to me if he had it.”

  “Oh,” Lizzy smiled, “I'm sorry, that was the idea.”

  “Whose idea?”

  “Freddy's. He said you would look pretty if you were dressed in a fashionable gown, and that this might help you get one.”

  Charlotte paused, Elizabeth's directness and naivety about things was shocking. “Don't you understand why I can't accept this?”

  “No, not at all. It's not like it's that much money. Please accept it as a gift.”

  Charlotte was speechless with anger. Lizzy, completely puzzled with her reaction, continued, “I'm deeply sorry if you're offended. It was meant for the best. I thought you'd rather have the chance to pick out your own gown than if I offered you one of mine.”

  “One of your castoffs? I'd never.”

  Miss Talbot sounded lonely, slightly shy and sad as she said,“I'd hoped we could be close friends, like sisters. I've never had a sister and always wanted one. You'd accept it from your sister, wouldn't you?”

  Charlotte noted the dismay on Elizabeth's face. “Are you really that lonely?”

  Lizzy sniffed, “I know we're vulgar and parvenus, encroaching mushrooms that stink of the shop. I'm not daft. In London I was only accepted socially because I am a rich heiress. The men at Bootle's were making book on who I'd marry. Freddy had it a little better. He had some friends from school. Even then I think most of them tried to touch him for a loan when they were scrapping bottom. It only stopped when he made it clear that he didn't loan money without security. I can't fake it like Freddy can.”

  “So, here?”

  “Here, I hoped I might just have some friends, normal friends.” She paused and sniffed, “I'm sorry if I bothered you.” She turned and started to walk to the front door. The footman called for “Miss Talbot's carriage.” Soon after, the noise of the carriage crunching its way down the vicarage drive could be heard.

  Charlotte was left behind, sitting in the parlor, unsure of what she should feel, and equally unsure of what she did feel. Anger at being 'bribed', but shame at not recognizing it as a genuine gesture of friendship. She said to the clock on the parlor mantelpiece, “I suppose this is what vicars are for.”

  4. A Country Ball.

  Charlotte's ambivalent feelings continued, despite a long discussion with Dr. and Mrs. Answorth in the evening. It wasn't until the next day, when she quietly slipped out for a visit to Staverton that they resolved themselves. There in front of the King's Arms, happily chatting with a couple of other young women, including that dreadfully common Lucy Smith, was Elizabeth. She was clearly recovered from whatever mental anguish she had from yesterday's chat with Charlotte. If she was lonely she was doing an excellent job of hiding it as she chatted with her new acquaintances. Elizabeth was still dressed in her stylish London clothes, although Charlotte thought that today's dress was possibly just slightly less ostentatious than yesterdays.

  Charlotte stood there, undecided whether to pass them by close enough to be noticed without saying anything, to turn on her heels and go back to the vicarage, or to introduce herself, when Elizabeth noticed her.

  “Charlotte! Why don't you come and join us. We were just discussing Thursday's ball.” Miss Smith and her friends joined in the request. Charlotte pointedly ignored it and started to walk past them. Lucy, a prosperous farmer's daughter whose social aspirations could never climb higher than the squire's son, told the group in a loud enough voice for Charlotte to overhear, “That's the Staverton family for you, poorer than church mice, too foolish to hold on to their inheritance, and too proud to talk to decent folk.” Elizabeth told her, quietly, “That was unkind. We can't choose our parents.” Then she ran to Charlotte and started to lead her to back. On the way she asked her, “Charlotte what is the matter?”

  “You seem to be fitting in.”

  “What do you expect me to do, silly? Stay in the hall and mope all day? Don't be so high in the instep.”

  Charlotte let herself be led back to the women. Elizabeth asked them, “Who is a good seamstress?”

  “Why? You wear such elegant dresses?”

  “They are fine for London, but not at all suitable for here.”

  Charlotte asked in a misleadingly innocent voice, “Slumming Miss Talbot?”

  Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, her face stiffened and she replied, “No, Miss De Vere. Finding suitable clothes for the mistress of Staverton Hall to wear. London clothes for London, country clothes for the country.”

  Charlotte tried to get a further rise by asking, “I hope the coarse cloth won't harm your soft skin. You should stick to your London clothes. Not being from around here or anything.”

  “I could say something about how gauche your dress is and how I would never been seen wearing something in such poor taste, but I won't. Instead, Miss De Vere I will bid you adieu.”

  As Elizabeth started to leave, Charlotte continued, “At least I don't smell of the shop.”

  Elizabeth stopped, and shot back, “I may smell of the shop, but at least I can afford to pay for my lavender water.”

  While Charlotte tried to think of a more cutting riposte, or at least one she could say in public, Mr. Talbot came out of the Kings Arms and called. “Elizabeth, would you please come and join us inside?” Then seeing Charlotte he added, “Miss De Vere? You as well, this concerns you.”

  “Sir!, I'd much rather not. Surely Mr. Cruise can handle any matter of business.”

  Dr. Answorth joined Mr. Talbot at the door, “Miss Charlotte, it is important.” Charlotte and Elizabeth shot mutually venomous glances at each other, but complied with the requests.

  Upon entering the inn they were greeted by a group of the more prosperous farmers and merchants of the parish, including the town's solicitor Mr. Cruise. The men rose from their coffee when the two women entered. Elizabeth was the first to speak, “So father? What is this about?”

  Not to be outdone, Charlotte added, “Yes, Mr. Talbot, what pearl of city wisdom are you prepared to impart to us?”

  Dr. Answorth shushed her. “Charlotte, quiet. This is not a matter for wit, no matter how diverting you think it is. I am beginning to think that the Talbot's are a blessing for the parish.”

  “If so, it's in a blessing in a good disguise as a very rude package.”

  “Please.”

  Once the women were seated, followed by the men, Mr. Talbot rose. He addr
essed them, “Gentlemen and, ahem, Ladies, I am pleased that we have come to an agreement, a charter.” He paused for breath, only to be interrupted by Elizabeth. “Fa-ahter? Not again, you said you were going to stop with business once you moved out of the city. Leave it to Freddy.”

  “Lizzy, my dear, please. As I was saying, an agreement to form a cooperative bank for the merchants and the grange.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, which didn't go unnoticed by Charlotte. As Mr. Talbot long-windily continued with his oration announcing a mercantile creation, Charlotte whispered to Elizabeth, “Miss Talbot, I'm sorry for what I said just now, you're embarrassed too, aren't you?” Elizabeth quietly replied, “A little, I wish he'd just get on with it. All this puffery for what is a very simple thing in the end.”

  “And so,” Mr. Talbot approached the end of his oration, “I ask you to cheer the Staverton and Holt mercantile trust.”

  There was a general mummer of approval. Mr. Cruise produced the charter document, which they signed. Finally, Mr. Talbot addressed Miss De Vere, “Miss De Vere, as you are the last of the Staverton line, and this is your family's ancestral fief, would you please sign?”

  Charlotte shot a panicked glance at Dr. Answorth and Elizabeth. Elizabeth nudged her and whispered, “Don't worry, he wouldn't ask you to do anything dishonorable.” Charlotte carefully stood and looked at the charter. It seemed fine, an agreement to form a bank. “Mr. Talbot, what am I signing?”

  “The charter for our new bank, to help finance the farming and industry in the parish.”

  “Does it involve money from me? I don't have much.”

  “Not at all. It's just that we felt, as the representative of the local nobility, it would be good if you signed. Most of these gentlemen are your tenants.”

  She signed the parchment.

  The morning's business concluded, most of the men went to get on with the rest of the day's work. This left Dr. Answorth, Mr. Talbot, Elizabeth and Charlotte. Mr. Talbot chortled, “Capital, capital, capital. That will get things moving around here.” He then turned to Charlotte, and asked, “Miss De Vere, I somehow feel we may have gotten off on the wrong foot with each other. Dr. Answorth said something to me about a hundred pound note and some dresses. Couldn't quite see what he was getting at.” Dr. Answorth started to explain, but Mr. Talbot continued, “The details don't matter. What does is that we upset you. Can't have that, can we?”