by Carola Dunn
“The primrose and white cloud muslin first,” Kitty decided, bouncing up the second flight of stairs, “then the green sprig. Which do you want for your first gown, Pippa?”
After a moment’s thought, Pippa confessed, “I fear I cannot for the life of me remember what I chose.”
Her mother and sister laughingly scolded her. Kitty went on to remind her of deep rose mull muslin and violet jaconet muslin, willow-green Circassian cloth and celestial blue lustring.
“You will have to tell me which is suitable for which kind of dress,” Pippa told her as they doffed bonnets and pelisses in their chamber. “I bought at your direction.”
They hurried to the sitting room, where Mrs Lisle joined them a moment later.
“This table is perfect for laying out and cutting patterns,” she said, going over to a large table Pippa had scarcely noticed. “I daresay that is why Mrs Debenham had it put in here. She attends to our needs with the greatest delicacy, never commenting on the difference in our situations. You could not have made a better friend, Pippa.”
“I know it.” Pippa drifted towards the little writing table. “Mama, pray excuse me for the moment. I should like to finish reading this speech while Bina and Millicent are otherwise occupied. Kitty may choose which dress I am to have first, and once it is cut out and pinned I shall struggle with the seams.”
Even as she spoke, she sat down at the desk. One of the drawers had had a key in it, and in this she had locked the manuscript, putting the key on a ribbon around her neck. She unlocked the drawer. Soon she was so absorbed she scarcely noticed the arrival of two laden footmen, the rustle of paper, Mama and Kitty’s soft chatter, the snick of scissors. When a cup of tea miraculously appeared in front of her, she drank thirstily without sparing a thought for its provenance.
Coming to the end of Lord Selworth’s speech, Pippa pondered the necessary alterations. She was almost sure it was going to be too long, even with the over-fanciful passages cut down to size. He wanted to solve all the world’s evils at once.
“Pippa,” Kitty said gaily, “unless you wish this gown to be merely nearly the right size, you must come now and have pins stuck into you.”
“Is it not enough that I shall soon be sticking needles into myself?” Pippa grumbled, but she locked away the speech and mustered her patience for the fitting.
* * * *
Altogether weary of clothes, Pippa changed quickly for dinner. Leaving Kitty to share Nan’s ministrations with Millicent, she went to her mother’s chamber.
“May I come in, Mama? I want to talk to you.”
“Of course, my love. Bister has done everything but put my cap on for me, so we shall not be disturbed.” Mrs Lisle, sitting at her dressing table, picked up her best cap and set it on her head. Tying the ribbons, she went on, “You are a little dismayed, are you not, by the number of gowns I propose to make for you? I promised not to force you to go to parties if you attend a few and find you still dislike such affairs excessively.”
“It is not so much that, Mama, as the cost. “
“Are you afraid I shall fall into debt? You may be easy, dearest. You know your papa’s opinion of those who buy luxuries upon credit and then deprive honest shopkeepers of their due.”
“Papa held no high opinion of those who waste good money on luxuries when others want for necessities,” Pippa pointed out. “I never wondered before, but seeing all we purchased today... Was he not distressed by the expenditure on my Season?”
“He realized the need. When I pointed out to him that in the circumscribed society at home you had little chance of meeting a man you could love, he had no objection to our repairing to Town. Or rather, his only objection was that he did not wish to lose you. He loved you dearly.”
“I miss him dreadfully, still.”
“And I, my love. But Papa knew you would one day want a home of your own. He was a sensible man, as well as an idealist, and he recognized his duty to his family as well as to humanity.”
“Lord Selworth is the same, I think,” Pippa said slowly. “Eager as he is to change the world, his first consideration upon attaining the viscountcy was to provide for his family.”
“Very true.”
“I believe he is very fond of them, but the sad truth is, if he gave away all his worldly wealth except enough to keep them from poverty, his influence would be greatly lessened.” Becoming aware of her mother’s intent scrutiny, Pippa grimaced. “He confuses me.”
“My darling, I hope I have not imperilled your heart with my clever scheme! I should never forgive myself. You have had little contact with personable gentlemen, it is not surprising that his attentiveness should disturb you. Remind yourself that he seeks your company because of Prometheus.”
“As I told you,” Pippa concurred. “I know it well.” She gave her anxious mother a reassuring smile, yet she could not have sworn that her heart was not in peril.
Chapter 8
George Debenham dined at his club that evening. “He knows I shall require his escort once we begin to go about in company,” Bina explained as the ladies went in to dinner. “He is making the most of a brief freedom before he is expected to dance attendance upon us.”
“Shepherding five females about will keep him busy,” Mrs Lisle agreed with a smile.
A rooster with a flock of hens, Pippa thought. Or, as Lord Selworth would doubtless dramatically have it, a Turkish sultan with his harem. She wondered whether the viscount would occasionally condescend to escort his sisters. His presence would do much to reconcile her to frequenting the entertainments of the Season.
“So we shall have a comfortable domestic evening,” Bina said. “Millicent and I request permission to display our needlework skills. Dare I hope you will trust us not to spoil your new gowns?”
“Oh no,” said Mrs Lisle, for once visibly flustered. “That is, of course we trust you, but you cannot wish—”
“Indeed we do,” Millicent burst out. “For until you have fashionable gowns Kitty cannot go about with me and that is what I want above anything, and we are both quite good at sewing. At least, Bina has done nothing but fine work for years and years, ever since she married, but I helped to make all the family clothes, shirts and chemises and trousers and aprons and—”
“A complete catalogue is unnecessary,” Bina cut her off with a smile.
“And everything else right up until Wynn became suddenly rich, which was just a few months ago, so you see we can certainly be of assistance. And I am simply dying to see what you have bought and to learn where you found bargains, because the prices in the Bond Street shops are outrageous and Oxford Street not much lower, and when you have been accustomed all your life to counting pennies, it goes against the grain to see them squandered, I assure you,” Millicent said earnestly, “though what grain has to do with anything I cannot guess.”
Here Kitty interrupted to explain to her that the grain concerned was wood, not corn. Mrs Lisle seized the opportunity to gratefully accept Bina’s offer of assistance, so the ladies spent a cosy evening with their needles.
At least, Pippa spent part of the evening with a needle. The third time she pricked her finger, she spotted a delicate India muslin. After the bustle attendant upon swift removal of the bloodstain, she was invited to read to the workers from one of Mr Scott’s novels.
This had the added advantage of curbing Millie’s tongue. Somehow she managed to confine herself to comments upon the story and necessary questions about the sewing.
All in all, it was a pleasant and productive evening, ending with a gown for each of the Lisles finished to the last knot of ribbon.
“We shall do it again,” Bina vowed, “for, you know, Mrs Lisle, in this I am as self-interested as Millie. Until you are able to go about, I must not accept invitations to evening parties, and until Pippa can, I shall not wish to.”
Pippa marked the place in the book and set it aside, and the others folded their work. As Mrs Lisle, Kitty and Millicent left the room,
Bina held Pippa back, closing the door behind the others.
“Stay a moment. Pippa, the last thing I wish is to offend, but I see no reason why you and I should not share gowns again, as we used to.”
“Oh Bina, how can you call yourself selfish or self-interested? You are quite the most generous of friends, but it will not do.”
“Why not? Just because I had the good fortune to meet George four years ago and you were not lucky enough to meet the right gentleman? It would save both labour and your mother’s purse. Change a few ribbons and no one will recognize the dresses. You are as dark as ever, and I as fair, and we were always much of a size.”
“I skinny and you slender,” Pippa reminded her. “The fact is, I shall need few gowns as I do not mean to go about much. Just one or two parties to satisfy Mama.”
“What nonsense, my dear! If you were skinny and I slender, now you are slender while my figure, I fear, is rapidly tending towards the matronly. With proper clothes and the wisdom of four more years—Indeed, I cannot think why girls are thrown so young and ignorant into the world!—there is no reason why you should not enjoy yourself thoroughly this time.”
“But I—”
Bina ruthlessly interrupted. “Besides, I shall not let you disappoint my brother.”
“Lord Selworth?” Had he told his sister he looked forward to escorting Pippa to parties, perhaps even to dancing with her at balls? For a heart-stopping moment Pippa wondered, before the brief dream was swept away by the chilly wind of reality.
“Wynn promised Prometheus to introduce you to Society,” Bina reminded her unnecessarily. “He will not feel he has carried out his end of the bargain if you merely attend a ball or two. So that is settled. We shall go through my wardrobe tomorrow and see what will suit you best. “
Pippa surrendered, at least temporarily. Kissing Bina, she said, “How can I thank you, my dearest friend?”
“Pray do not! So tedious,” Bina said with a smile, opening the door. “George gives me a simply enormous dress allowance, you must know. Now, let us set a time. What are your mama’s plans for tomorrow morning?”
“We are to go to Cranbourne Alley to choose hats. That reminds me, why do ladies shop in Cranbourne Alley only in the mornings?” Pippa asked, following Bina out into the passage.
“Because it is an insalubrious district with a great many bawdy houses, and—” At the sound of a gasp behind them, she stopped and turned. “Yes, Reuben?”
One of the footmen had come out from the backstairs in time to hear his mistress’s remark. Crimson to the ears, he stammered, “Was you wanting me to snuff the candles and bank the fire, madam?”
“Yes, thank you, we are finished in there.” As the footman disappeared into the sitting room, Bina continued in a lower tone but without much concern, “Oh dear, I trust the Running Footman will not be all a-buzz with tales of how we were caught discussing houses of ill-repute! As I was saying, in the afternoon and evening, caps and bonnets are not the only wares displayed in Cranbourne Alley. Or so I have heard.”
“I did not suppose you had gone to see for yourself!” Pippa assured her, laughing.
They parted, to retire for the night. In bed, Pippa and Kitty talked for a little while about the experiences of the day, but Kitty soon fell asleep in the middle of a sentence. Pippa lay wakeful, her thoughts returning to Lord Selworth’s speech.
Perhaps she should suggest he stuck to one topic rather than trying to cram in all the ills he wished to combat. The talk of bawdy houses reminded her of Papa’s descriptions of the dreadful lives of women, some no more than young girls, forced into prostitution by pimps and abbesses, or by simple poverty. Pippa had laughed at Bina’s comment, but their plight was no laughing matter. Lord Selworth might be willing to take up their cause.
But Pippa could never bring herself to broach the subject with him, even if he believed the notion came from Prometheus. She had best just work with what he had given her.
She slept. In her dreams, she was back in the sitting room, trying on half-made clothes. As she stood in her shift, Lord Selworth came in without knocking. Failing to notice her dishabille, he swept her into a dance, but everyone else in the ballroom started to point at her and whisper to each other.
Angrily, Lord Selworth accused her of displaying her wares.
Half waking, Pippa muttered, “At least you have realized at last that I have wares to display!” She turned over and went back to sleep.
* * * *
“I thought I might drop in to see Miss Lisle this morning,” Wynn said casually, picking up knife and fork to tackle a rather meagre beefsteak.
Chubby looked at him in surprise over the rim of his coffee cup. “Gurgle?” he said.
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Wynn reproved him. “Just to find out if she’s forwarded my speech to Prometheus yet.”
“Wouldn’t plague her about it, if I was you. Don’t want to vex her.”
“I shouldn’t dream of plaguing her,” Wynn said with dignity. “A man may call on his sister, may he not? And being there, it’s only polite to exchange a word or two with her guests. And if Miss Lisle has sent it off, what more likely than that she’ll mention it?”
“Ah.” Chubby chewed on this proposal and a mouthful of beef, swallowed both, and brightened. “In that case, I could come too. I’ve met Mrs Debenham. Met Miss Lisle, come to that, and Mrs Lisle.”
“Not to mention Miss Kitty.”
Chubby pinkened. “Not the thing for a single gentleman to call on an unmarried young lady uninvited, but I can go with you to visit your sister.”
“And being there,” Wynn teasingly quoted himself, “it’s only polite to exchange a word or two with her guests.”
“If I can think of anything to say,” Chubby fretted.
“Come now, you and Miss Kitty got on swimmingly.”
“That was in the country. We’re in Town now,” said Chubby inarguably. “It’s different. Not the thing to talk about cows and chickens in Town.”
“I shouldn’t worry, if I were you, old fellow,” Wynn advised him. “The chances are, with Millicent there, neither of us will need or have the opportunity to open our mouths.” He opened his newspaper to the political news.
As usual, the doings of Lord Liverpool and his myrmidons infuriated Wynn. The Prime Minister was still fighting the introduction of a sliding scale to the Corn Law to allow more grain imports. As well as his Tories, many Whig landowners of an otherwise Reformist bent supported him. Wynn itched to discuss this betrayal of the hungry poor with Miss Lisle.
Whoa! He was confusing Pippa Lisle with her father and Prometheus. Just because she seemed quite a clever young woman, he must not forget that she was a woman. Though she had clearly learnt from Benjamin Lisle something of the art of politics, Wynn would have to be careful not to discomfit her by stretching the limits of her understanding.
Tempted, he told himself severely that it would be most ungentlemanly to put her deliberately to the blush only because she was dashed pretty with roses in her cheeks.
“Do put that damn newspaper away and eat your breakfast,” Chubby said impatiently. “If we don’t get on, the ladies will have gone out.”
Solely for his friend’s sake, Wynn obliged. He, after all, was in no particular hurry to see Miss Lisle. Whether she had already sent off the manuscript or not, she would be unable to tell him what Prometheus thought of it for at least several days.
Breakfast despatched, the gentlemen abandoned dressing-gowns and carpet slippers in favour of morning coats and Hussar boots. Donning hats and gloves, they sallied forth un-top-coated, for the sun shone and Spring was in the air.
Had he been striding across the fields at home, Wynn would have whistled. In Piccadilly, he managed to restrain himself insofar as the whistle was concerned, though his gait had nothing in common with the saunter of a Bond Street Beau. As he walked, he looked about him with interest at the shops, the passers-by, the vehicles in the street. He ought to hav
e a carriage of his own. Curricle, phaeton, or gig, he pondered. Not a phaeton; one type was too impractical, the other too staid.
At his side Chubby, also country born and bred, kept pace. Not for several minutes did Wynn notice that his silent companion’s gaze was fixed on his feet.
“It won’t do,” said Chubby at that moment, shaking his head.
“The boots? Damn it, I know we decided not to pay Hoby’s exorbitant prices, but the fellow we patronized did a perfectly good job.”
“Nothing wrong with the boots themselves, it’s the polish. They ain’t got the shine they had two days ago.”
“We’ve been wearing ‘em,” Wynn pointed out as they turned up Berkley Street. “You can’t expect them to look new forever.”
“Not forever,” Chubby admitted, “but for a while yet. If I had a proper valet...No, m’father would think I’d run mad.”
“Miss Kitty won’t care if your boots look two days old. The Lisles aren’t so finical.”
“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t want Miss Kitty to think I don’t hold her in high enough esteem to take the trouble. Besides,” Chubby said doggedly, “whatever you say, Mrs Debenham’s going to expect you to do the pretty. Can’t leave it all to Debenham, five females to squire about. Dare say he won’t mind if I lend a hand, too.”
To his surprise, Wynn discovered balls and routs and breakfasts no longer sounded like an utter waste of time, though he would not admit it aloud. His mother would expect him to accompany his sisters now and then, and he did not want to disgrace them.
Glancing down at his boots, he could not help but note the dullness of the blacking. “Come to think of it, I shan’t make much of an impression in the Lords if I’m not turned out bang up to the mark. And you’re right, the fellow who does for us hasn’t time for a thorough job with half a dozen others to take care of. I’ll hire us a valet, or better, a chap who don’t hold himself too high to cook us decent breakfast, too.”